tales_of_faerun | Entries tagged with character: bruenor battlehammer

Kissed 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:

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.

senmut

Bard Tales (400 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: Drizzt Do'Urden, Regis [The Legend of Drizzt Series], Bruenor Battlehammer, Wulfgar son of Beornegar
Additional Tags: Slice of Life
Summary:

As they travel, they hear tales

Bard Tales

The party of four, one with his hood riding low and pulled tight, had settled as far from the fire as they could. Given the fur trim on all of their clothes, and the striking statue of the one with a hammer, it was easy enough to surmise they were in off of the tundra to the north. They seemed an odd lot, even discounting the hidden one, as the other two were a dwarf and a halfling.

A bard was idly strumming his guitar, and slowly telling a speaking-song, a tale of the region.

"…and evil doers need beware, as the tortured soul of an elf is known to haunt the 'fare. Black as night and driven by thirst, vengeance his for those as laid the curse. Aye, go not by night with evil in your heart, or you too will share the death that is his to impart."

The halfling giggled slightly, looking at the hidden member of the party. "They think you're a ghost? And cursed as well?"

"I think they must speak of another; I've been gone from these parts for years," the hidden one answered, but he was amused. If only they knew his truth.

"… tell you I seen the drow, gone on a dozen years or so. His cloak was magic, hiding him until he meant to be seen, boots that let him walk in silence. His swords blazed with the magic of their speed and keen edges," a man was telling he group fixated on him.

"The second tavern we've taken meals in and heard tells of you," the big man said to his well-covered companion.

"It cannot be me; I carry little in the way of magic."

The halfling rolled his eyes. "Sure. But you do look and act magical, you know!"

"…like a banshee, but silent, they say. To see the avenger is to find death," the story-teller was saying. "There are rumors that he is no drow, but an elf trapped in the form of his cursed enemies, and he seeks the one that did him wrong. All who get in his path — "

"Fireside tales and lies," the dwarf harumphed loudly. "I tell ye now ye should judge by deeds, not supposed powers and fearful nonsense! Heard ye of any goodly folk killed at his hands?"

The covered one seemed to fall further back into shadow as the bard tales were refuted.

senmut

Work It Out (100 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: Bruenor Battlehammer, Wulfgar son of Beornegar, Catti-brie (Dungeons & Dragons)
Additional Tags: Drabble, named character impersonation, Inspired by Poetry
Summary:

Bruenor threatens to call off the wedding.

From Dear by Maggie Smith: Don't you know each other, / don't you live in the air around me,

Legend of Drizzt, Drabble, Gen

Bruenor looked at the pair and frowned, before turning his gaze to Regis. The halfling did a credibly subtle shift of his shoulders and features to show he had no idea why either.

Bruenor studied Catti-brie, spotting the tell-tales of temper. That had him look a bit more closely at Wulfgar, putting that tight jaw and stiff upper neck in perspective.

"What ever the pair of ye have said or done tae each other, I suggest ye both make it up fast, or I'll be canceling the wedding, ye hear me?!"

A low growl, a sigh, and both left — together.

senmut

On the Ice (600 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: Drizzt Do'Urden, Bruenor Battlehammer
Additional Tags: Silliness
Summary:

Drizzt is in a pickle...

On the Ice

Drizzt was still getting accustomed to how to handle himself on the ice when he heard the ominous sound he'd been warned about. The very solid piece of ice he was on apparently had a weak point, and his weight near the edge had been too much. He was already in motion, trying to make it back past the break —

— and then he was catching his balance as the small shelf of ice rocked, and moved away from the broken edge. He spread his weight over the ice, losing the gaff and net both, as one of the leviathans proved to be the true cause of stress, its partial breach swamping icy water over him and his small ice raft.

The raft was out of range for a jump, even if Drizzt trusted himself to manage the footing, and moving more out into the open water than could possibly be safe. Feeling like a fool, he began weighing his options, not having his bow to fire a line, and uncertain if he could use his rope and a dagger to catch anything before he was too far from shore.

"What a fool you are," he muttered to himself, digging through his mind for any way to rescue himself. If night fell before he made shore, he was doomed. Nor could he swim, as the water would kill him in less time than it would take to swim.

A snout suddenly poked up, and Drizzt wondered if he was about to have to fight on his precarious raft, when the great head of a ghost bear rested on the edge of the ice. Hastily, he focused all of his will toward the creature, praying for it to not see him as a meal or an intruder.

The bear yawned mightily as it brought forepaws up onto the ice, and then it… shoved? And the raft began to move counter to the current of the leviathan's wash in the direction of the nearer ice shelf.

"Oh blessings on you!" Drizzt said softly, readying to leap once he was in reach. He gathered himself, focused on the balance, and once he could, he made the jump. One boot still got wet, but he could fix that.

The bear lumbered up beside him, and just rolled into a resting pose next to Drizzt. Once Drizzt had traded his sock and boot for the spare in his pack, he looked at the ghost bear.

"Thank you?"

He got another yawn, and Drizzt fished out a meat roll, putting it in reach of the bear.

The ghost bear ate it, and when Drizzt stood to begin his trek home — the bear followed.

"I live too far from the sea," Drizzt stressed to the bear, and proceeded to argue with the following beast for several hundred feet.

It took pointing out there were no girl ghost bears near Drizzt's home, but his new friend turned around at that, and went back to the sea's edge. Somehow, Drizzt suspected this was not the end of the association.

"Ye look a little out of it, ye donnae have the gaff or the net, and what's more, ye have no fish," Bruenor said, when he found his friend warming himself near the hearth. That alone was suspicious; it was brighter at that spot.

Drizzt sighed, deciding how much to tell of his misadventure.

"The ice broke. But I made a friend, and that friend saw me safe to shore," he admitted with a long-suffering look.

Bruenor gawked a moment, before laughing loudly. "Keep tellin' ye, it's dangerous tae go alone!"

senmut

Children's Crusade (6294 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: Ensemble
Additional Tags: Background Relationships, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Summary:

In a universe where they don't see a way to resist the barbarian invasion, Bruenor and Drizzt send the young of the clan away to survive.

Children's Crusade

From her Da's first suspicions, a wagon had been readied. It was tight, but the elder three of the dwarrows would be enough back up for Catti-brie, it was decided. She had been learning bow and sword from their ranger since showing an interest in both.

None of the young ones wanted it to come to this, but Bruenor still remembered the last time the barbarians had made war on the Ten-Towns and his people. He wasn't going to be caught flat-footed, not when they'd had a cave-in on one of the trade tunnels that still needed repair.

The ranger was out day and night, seeking confirmation of the barbarian plans, while the elders discussed the timing. If they waited too long to send the young away, the passes would be closed. If they sent them and the war didn't come —

"Da," Catti said seriously while the other elders debated. "I take the wee ones as far as the Throat. If'n I see signs back tae the Towns o' war, I follow me ranger's map. If'n I donnae see signs, I camp with them there, 'til ye send me ranger or others tae fetch us home."

Bruenor stroked his beard, considering. "Aye, lass, that's a plan," he finally decided.

He thumped the butt of his axe on the floor and shut the buzzing dwarves up, decreeing the plan Catti-brie had given.

The stop at the pass was not needed. The battle cries had come before they got there, rolling across the tundra in its last gasp of summer. The smoke behind them had Catti and Dulan, the eldest of the dwarrows, trading out the pullers with the pacers, pushing them as much as they dared. Dulan still half-thought he should have been back there to defend the clan, but Bruenor himself had put him as Catti's lieutenant for the long passage.

Auntie, younger by that name, and Uncle, the elder of those, took turns as they could, driving the wagon, but by and large, keeping the beasts calm and willing was up to their young elf, who had some magic over them because of her father. Zanna knew she was too small to do more than gather foods and calm the stocky ponies for the rest, but that didn't keep her from holding her half-size bow and quiver close.

It was a long, long journey to where her other father was, and if he wasn't there —

— they would have worse problems.

The strangest thing about rolling south was that the season was still very much summer, here below the mountains. The dwarf wagon stayed firmly on the road, and anywhere that it narrowed, a great panther was with them to check for dangers.

The six dwarves old enough to know how to use their lances were all blooded alongside their chieftain's daughter, but mostly Guen's presence at every danger turned the tide for them. If they'd run into a wizard, maybe it would have gone worse, but six hundred pounds of a panther that was separated from her chosen ranger, with so many cubs to protect, was a very dangerous thing.

In Mirabar, Dulan minded the wagon, with Zanna's help with the beasts, while Uncle and Catti-brie traded pieces of knucklebone for supplies for the next stretch of the journey. Sharp eyes noticed the trading, despite their precaution, and Catti's sword was blooded on the idiot humans that had thought them weak. She didn't have to kill, though Uncle's strike was probably going to end his opponent's thuggish days.

Other eyes noted the scuffle though, and spoke for them to the guard, before the larger one pushed his way to where he could speak to the pair.

"Horim Half-Orc," he said as they tensed all over despite having spoken for them and been listened to. "You're with the wagon stopped up at the fairground."

"Aye," Catti-brie said, tipping her chin up just before a curious dwarf made it to the big man.

"Ye be wearing a standard not seen here; me name's Foveni Drakebow, and it's strange to see dwarrow and elders doing trade at this time of year."

Catti looked to Uncle, who ceded authority back to her with a half shrug. She was their chieftain's daughter, and in charge, for all she was still a beardless dwarrow in their eyes.

"War came to me lands. Me Da, the chieftain, and our ranger had a plan for us."

"As a ranger of Mielikki, I would be remiss if I did not offer you aid in your passage," Horim said.

"And I stand by dwarves of all clans, if they need me," Foveni answered.

"Mielikki?" Catti-brie studied the pair again, then gave a sharp nod. "I cannae pay ye much, but a knucklebone for ye both, from Ten-Towns, if'n ye see us to Yartar."

"Long journey, but the roads are good," Horim said. "Keep the fee, Lady, as a ranger gives service."

"I'll take the tale of yer clan, for fee," Foveni said. "We'll be at your camp by night fall."

The only thing to set Catti-brie on edge as the two joined them was worry over her 'little sister', as she called Zanna. The ranger had encouraged them to have kinship, and Zanna was too dark to pass for a wood elf to people who had traveled as much as this pair seemed to have.

The dwarf raised an eyebrow, but Horim just nodded.

"You must be related to the drow ranger we used to hear of," he said after the introductions. "Never knew his name, but I heard tales. And Mielikki nudged me to stay here."

"My papa is a good ranger, yes. Mielikki guides him." Zanna looked up at the half-orc without fear. "She asked you to stay here for us?"

"I think so, little cousin," Horim told her. "Do you like that? To be my cousin, since your father shares my path?"

"Yes!"

Foveni just smiled, knowing the girl's bravery had won her friend completely over, given how few children would speak to him at all.

Trade at Longsaddle had netted them rations that actually let everyone feel full, to Dulan's joy. He was learning hunting techniques from Foveni, and had grudgingly taken pointers from Horim on better weapons' handling. Dulan half-thought all rangers must just be like that, with their need to point out fighting flaws.

Their ranger did — had done? — and suddenly Dulan just wanted everything Horim could teach, thinking about home, knowing they might be the last Battlehammers, that the wee bairn might not have her father anymore.

"Help me be better," he told Horim as they walked away of the wagon. "Mayhaps, me clan is no more. Have tae be strong enough to protect me kin, and be a true fighter for Catti."

Horim nodded. "You're already on your way, Dulan. You have the heart."

Arriving at Triboar to find out they were feuding with Yartar, again, complicated matters. The militia were being irritating about 'papers', but between Horim and Foveni using their reputation, they had at least gotten passage to the bridge. Triboar, considered home of Gwaeron Windstrom, didn't want to anger a favored ranger of His Patron Goddess, after all.

The toll, once they reached the fortified bridge, was a different problem. Their supply of knucklebone had been whittled down by trade, and the bridge keepers were not certain of its value.

Catti-brie finally went to where the dispute was, stepping in front of Horim so that he could fully guard her from the rear, if Triboar's militia were thinking of using them as a distraction.

"See here, Sergeant," she said, concentrating on speaking without the dwarven accent so she was clear. "Do you want to be known as the man that turned away a bunch of dwarrows and their elders, or do you want to take what we offer, known to be worth more than gold, so that the very rulers of Luskan argue over trade rights to what Ten-Towns sells?

"If I were you, I'd fear the gods if you choose the first."

The man had squirmed a bit at her early words, and finally nodded, handling the transaction to let the wagon and its protectors pass, with Zanna carefully hidden in the back of the wagon. After all, the Yartar people were being stubborn; she didn't need to add incentive for them to turn her back.

The tree, as promised, was not difficult to find, being so unlike every other tree. They stopped at a respectable distance, and Zanna showed her first sign of nerves.

"What if he's mad? What if he doesn't like me?" the girl asked. "What if he won't help?"

Catti-brie hugged her tight. "Then, like Horim and Foveni said, we ride tae Silverymoon, and take our refuge there. But none of that's going tae happen. Yer papa is a good man, who would pick good people tae know."

Zanna took a deep breath, and pulled Guen's figure out, summoning her. This part her papa had insisted on; let Guen check for the wizard. Guen couldn't be fooled easily, and had lived inside the tree, known the man.

Guen arrived, took in where they were, and bumped both girls for a moment before bounding over to the wards of the wizard's tree tower. She didn't roar; she sat very primly, and drug a paw across the edge of the magic she could sense clearly.

Horim was keeping watch closely, still fascinated by the astral panther, and saw the wizard — elf, as they'd been told — stepped out onto a wide limb shaped as a balcony. They'd parked far enough away that he could not make out the features, but the sound of a voice, and then Guen making a startling high-pitched 'yip' preceded the wizard coming to the ground and striding across the land.

Guen butted into the wizard's legs, walking the man back to the wagon, where Horim waited, letting the young human take charge.

"Ye be Samiar Ravarel, an' I be Catti-brie Battlehammer," the girl said firmly once the man was in speaking distance. "Guen wouldnae have let ye make it if ye were any but."

"That is truth," the man said, looking down at the cat. "But where is Drizzt? Is he hurt?"

"We donnae know," Catti told him. "Me Da and he, they sent us here tae be sure we lived, as the tribes were on the warpath with all they had, and Ten-Towns were nae listening tae either man."

The wizard had to put a hand down on Guen's broad shoulders, steadying himself, and that put Horim's last instincts to rest, assuring him that the children would be safe with this man.

"You have her figure then? He must trust you greatly," Samiar said.

"Nae." She turned a little and Zanna stepped out from between the ponies where she had waited, her eyes fixed on the wizard she'd only heard of. "His daughter carries the responsibility for Guen."

"His dau — " Samiar blinked, looked down at Guen, who merely nudged him to move forward. At that confirmation, he went to where he could comfortably take a knee in front of the ponies, and opened his body language. "Ours, yes?" he asked in a gentle voice, eyes glued to the drow child who was not… quite… full drow in her looks.

"Hello Da," Zanna said. "My name is Zanna. We came, before we went north and found our home, but you weren't here."

"Then I will always regret the time already lost," Sam told her. "Now, let's get you and your friends here into the wards, and talk about whatever your other father has gotten into."

He held his arms open, and she came over, tucking in, which let him wrap those arms around her and hold her close, as safe as he could.

He'd either find or avenge Drizzt, and do all he could by this child and the ones with her.

Catti-brie watched this man, all but a stranger to them, put things in motion to help them settle from the hard journey here. He'd listened, frowning through much of it, but he'd promised he would find help now, not in the spring, once he had new spells on the next day. The thing he called a mansion certainly was, with room for them all, and food to spare.

Through it all, he treated her with respect, listened to Uncle and Auntie, and checked on Zanna repeatedly to be sure she was fine. Guen was satisfied before she had to go back to her plane, so Catti was willing to trust that it could turn out.

She didn't expect, now they were safe, for it to really hit that none of them knew what had become of their kin. Zanna wound up being rocked and held awkwardly when she exploded in tears, while Dulan and she managed the dwarrows reacting much the same way with the help of their elders. Even Foveni and Horim picked up dwarrows to reassure them.

"I'll fill your larders," Horim said. "But what are you thinking to get aid to the tundra at this time of the year? I'd thought to go on to Silverymoon, and ask if the Lady there would ask her sons to aid."

Sam's ears all but pricked up, it seemed to Catti, who had a dwarrow asleep against her now.

"Is that truly Elué then, not one of her kin?" Sam asked.

"That is the name the elves call her," Horim agreed.

"Then, I will make the appeal, by sending on the morrow. I really had no idea; she … well, people do change their minds."

Horim chuckled. "She is a foundation of the Luruar. She took hold of Silverymoon after the Black Horde and has not left."

Sam frowned and Catti-brie saw shadows in his eyes.

"I think… that bodes ill for my family, but I will reach out, for old times' sake."

Elué, this is Sam. I have a situation. My hiexel is outside of Yartar. Please ask one of your sons to come see me.

Sam? Of course. I will arrange a meeting swiftly.

Sam put his faith in those words, then went to help with the day's labor of converting the wagon, along with other supplies, into a cottage to supplement the hiexel's accommodations. He could keep casting a mansion, but the dwarves preferred to have their own way of doing things. Still, magic would be useful for getting building material in place, and Sam wanted to do all he could for this rather unusual assortment of people his daughter — he had a daughter! — called family.

Catti-brie had just finished putting the scupper in place for draining the basins when there was a motion that caught her eye. A day of hard work, and the wagon had a proper water supply and drain, posts already planted for getting walls attached to it.

"Seems a lot of work on your property; ye be sure?"

"We have to get through autumn and winter, so yes. After, if you'll sell me the wagon, it means I'll have a building for unexpected guests or to store things in."

Catti-brie had been about to argue on the selling when the wizard had gotten distracted by a dwarrow trying to help too much. As he'd gone inside with that one and one other that were too young to really do the work, Catti-brie turned to the motion she'd seen, half-hoping that Foveni was already aware.

Horim was off hunting and gathering, and had taken the third eldest of the dwarrows when Auntie had agreed.

What she saw when she focused, just past the magical line that Zanna said protected them all, she saw a beautiful lady, standing even taller than Sam, likely as tall as Horim, though built slender, there just letting go a beast that didn't look quite like a proper horse. It vanished then and there, making Catti blink and wonder if she'd imagined it for a moment.

"Elué, I said one of your sons!" Sam called from the tree's opening. He gestured though and the elegant lady came on to the property, looking about and inclining her head to the dwarrows that had stopped to see her.

"All of ye, go get cleaned up for a meal," Catti said. "Uncle will be bringing it out any time now."

"Well, the unseen servants will be," Sam said. "Join us, Catti-brie? This is the person who can hopefully help us. Also, hello, Elué. Though I suppose I should use your name as it is now."

"No need, Sam. The elves have always called me that."

In short order, the dwarves were situated with food and a long rest break, Foveni was guarding them all even as she shared in the meal, while Sam, Catti-brie, and the lady went inside the tree. Zanna was torn between food and being with her big sister.

"Sit and eat, little one," Auntie admonished. "Then you can go inside."

"Yes, Auntie."

Catti-brie recited all the signs of the tribesmen choosing war, that they had been unified under their two strongest kings, and that the Ten-Towns were refusing to hear all arguments about the danger.

"Me Da, he's the last o' his line. And some said as they all should have gone," Catti-brie said at last. "But me ranger pointed out that if a caravan was seen, it would be the first target, and we'd have little way of holding off thousands of them.

"One wagon, though, that could get away," she said. "Two of our four elders, and every dwarrow under fighting age."

"With this as your destination because?" Alustriel asked, curious but very intent on figuring out how to find the remnant of Catti-brie's clan and see them safely south.

"That would be the ranger's doing," Sam offered. "I knew him… several years ago, apparently."

"He'd made a map, years back," Catti-brie said. "Tae use should he get killed, so his daughter could come tae her kin."

Now the elegant lady's eyebrow rose and she looked at Sam.

"I had no idea, there was a curse involved, and I was apparently not in when he stopped here to tell me originally," Sam said. "Zanna's with the others eating."

"Congratulations," Alustriel said to that. "But, it was a very long and perilous journey. Well-done, Catti-brie, for living up to your station for your people."

Catti-brie truly hoped her face wasn't as flushed as it felt, because that praise from someone so … perfectly put together? … powerful had her all jumbled up.

Quick motion sounds were a warning that Zanna had finished eating, and that was a good distraction, as the girl all but shot into Catti's arms, climbing up to share her chair before peering curiously at the lady.

Alustriel's breath caught as she took in the girl's face. "Oh, Sam. She looks like my youngest. Everyone told me he favored your teacher."

"Yes, she does look a bit like my aunt in the face," Sam said, and Catti-brie noted the same shadows in his face. Someone had died, someone that wasn't being spoken of yet, so someone very personal.

"Does that mean you're family too?" Zanna asked.

Alustriel smiled. "In a way. Yes. My children would be cousins… let's see, dwarves count out several generations, yes?"

"Aye, Lady," Catti answered.

"Sam is cousin, same generation, to the father of most of my children. So you would be of my sons' generation, but separated a step."

Zanna tipped her head to the side, sketched a bit in the air, then nodded. "Can you help us?"

"I plan to do all I can. Depending on what my sons find when they go to look for me, it might take time," Alustriel said. "Tell me, Zanna, did you and your other father ever live with others like you?"

The girl looked wary at that, uncertain, because people were mean to drow, and Catti-brie knew the answer.

"It's fine, me sister," she murmured. "The Lady means nae harm tae yer people, aye?" she said louder.

"Named Ones, no! I did not mean to scare you for them, Zanna. I am asking so I know if I can reach out to my contacts there for more assistance, if needed."

"Tell me the name of one you know, and I'll tell you," Zanna said. It made Alustriel chuckle and nod. "Let's see, you might not believe if I tell you the name of someone that would be known outside their home. So how about Xinval? The priest."

Zanna's eyes got very big. "He's Papa's friend."

Alustriel nodded. "Then, I will be able to ask them for more aid, if it comes to it. But we will do all we can for Clan Battlehammer. And the ranger."

"Good." Zanna looked pleased by that.

Bruenor counted the scouts as they came back, decided it had been worth for all to return and only two were injured.

"Any sign?"

"Nae, chief," Lespur said, binding off the cut along her arm. "We cannae risk another trip out, and the elf would tell ye that."

Bruenor closed his eyes, then nodded with resignation. "Able bodies tae the diggin' crews. Rest of ye rest and heal with Auntie and Uncle. We need ye well, not tryin' with the rest."

"Aye, chief," they answered.

Bruenor looked at the hatch, now sealed, and looked at the pair of guards. "Weld it."

"Aye!" They weren't happy, but the clan came first. Ever since the barbarians had started thrusting spears in the ground and finding tunnels to breach, they'd been pulling further away from the original passages, sealing them in. Winter should put a stop to that soon enough, but the ranger hadn't been seen since he left to gather up as many town folk as he could.

Some of those had trickled in, but even that would stop now, as this was the last door they had to seal.

"The drow is canny," Agorwal said by way of offering hope.

"With much tae live for, aye," Bruenor said. "We keep digging, so by spring we can breach the land and head for safer places. Yer people are welcome tae stay with us, and I'll be the first tae stand surety for ye."

"That is generous, and we will do all we can to aid."

Drizzt hissed as he moved, further aggravating the shallow slice across his lower back. The ghost bear made a low noise at him, which meant Drizzt had to focus and calm his friend, his savior honestly. He'd been caught flat-footed in the harsh sun, with fresh snow glinting it back up into his eyes. If he hadn't been so close to the Sea of Moving Ice, he probably would be dead, or worse, at the hands of the barbarians.

Soon, he hoped the weather would fracture the alliances between Elk and Bear. But in the meantime, many would suffer. The Ten-Towns population was dead, enslaved, or escaped, and now Drizzt had to heal. He prayed Bruenor had closed the last hatch, that they were proceeding with the plan.

He knew, through the grace of his goddess, that the children were safe. His bond to Guenhwyvar had not broken, despite the distance, and Mielikki had coaxed him to meditate on that connection. He knew the children had reached allies, making it easier to focus on survival.

Gingerly, he readied what he needed to clean and cover the axe slash he hadn't dodged fully, and hoped his ghost bear friend continued to tolerate his presence.

The next meeting with Sam's family was in another one of those magic mansions, as six very tall elves, half human actually, had showed up wearing proper winter gear and asked to talk with Catti-brie and the elders.

"We managed some observations," the eldest, Andy, said. "The towns are divided between the tribes, and tension is growing between the two largest ones. The ground is broken onto tunnels in many locations, but they all dead-end, very deliberately and mostly with fresh stone or metal."

"Aye, that was the plan if we couldnae send the tribes back to the frozen wastes," Catti-brie said. "Fall back, close off."

"There are not as many lowlander humans among the towns as we would expect," Ghael, the one who'd been wearing very different clothes that reminded her of Regis under his furs, offered. "Whether killed or holed up elsewhere, I don't know."

"Ones as fought proper might have been let tae come with ours," Uncle said. "We'd nae enow to rescue the lot, though."

"Of the ranger, we saw nothing, but heard much," Dol told them. "He's been ghosting the towns, and causing tensions to flare. I went, invisible in two of the larger ones, and it is said he fights at the side of ghost bears, giant elk, and even the cormorants."

Auntie cackled. "See, that ghost bear was less a nuisance than we thought!"

Catti-brie smiled, nodding, before looking at the men. "Me ranger has a touch with animals. After a ghost bear saved him from the Sea of Moving Ice, it kept coming with him back inland. Got to where he had tae set time aside tae go fish with the beast about once a moon."

"We think the elk that was sighted might have been a sending from Gwaeron himself, as they don't tend to range up in that area," Elin said. "The birds, however… well. They can be opportunists."

"He's up there, somewhere," Catti-brie said to all of that. "And me Da has the clan on the move, like as not."

"They can tunnel through the winter," Auntie agreed. "Come up once they're past the worst of the ice, and come down."

"We will set watches, of course," Thyl said. "To give aid, but we cannot locate them beneath the snow and ice already down."

"Our contacts among Drizzt's people," Del said, and he really did look like Zanna might, despite the colors being different, "want us to bring one of them up to try sending to him. I volunteered for that."

"Thank ye," Catti-brie said. "Zanna will be better for knowing her papa is being looked for."

"It's the right thing to do," Andy said, "but reinforced by learning he is our family."

Catti-brie hadn't considered it that way, but Samiar had said it once or twice too. Kinship certainly mattered to this elf and half-human family, something she approved of.

"Then we wait," she said, nodding. With nothing more to add, Andy went and opened the door, inviting the others to come in and enjoy the feast being readied by his unseen servants.

The five who remained for a few days did more to improve the dwarf cabin, making certain it could hold through the winter comfortably. They also brought food from elsewhere, which meant Horim and Foveni could, in good conscience, move on to their usual winter routines.

That gave Sam plenty of time to examine the curse on the two elders, puzzling through the intricacy of it to try and undo the loss of memory. It was both a delight to him to have such a magical investigation, and a promise to their future.

Catti-brie sat with Auntie and Uncle after one of those sessions, while Zanna and the other young dwarrows were taking lessons in reading and writing from Dol, who had opted to remain through the winter, to give more protection to the children.

"The Tall Ones say there's more of us, in the citadels," she began.

"Aye, shock as that was," Uncle said. "Bruenor will see tae gathering them in, and if the wizard can make us remember, we'll have a Hall tae reclaim."

"What if Da didn't make it?" she finally asked, knowing the clan would keep following his commands even after death.

"Ye donnae need tae be thinking such," Auntie scolded. "But if'n he fell in battle, it'll be Grollo as needs tae step up, or any Hamur that escaped. They're closest tae the king's blood."

Catti-brie nodded, and decided if it came to that, she'd do all she could to support Grollo, until they had their home.

Del had gone to the Promenade, found out who he'd be working with. Once he knew, he left again long enough to find proper winter gear that would fit the drow priest. That had taken a little time, with much double-checking to see what limitations Eilistraeeans had on their garments. Some religions had very strange ones; it seemed the Dark Maiden at least was more forgiving and practical.

While Del did that, the drow were brewing healing potions and elixirs, remembering how driven the young ranger was, and certain his habits had only worsened. Del had been amused by the tales, and also very warmed by the near-universal sigh of relief to know that Zanna was safe with her other father.

"Your opinion on the sun elf?" Ysolde asked, once Del was back and readying his haversack for the jaunt north.

"Sam? I heard a few stories about him, met him only briefly. But he's got my eldest brothers' support, and seemed to be doting on baby cousin."

Ysolde looked half-satisfied by that. "Mother always worried it hadn't been as consensual as Drizzt said it was."

Del recoiled viciously from that idea. "No. No, Sam is very much a man of our family, from all I saw and heard. He really is doing his best by Zanna and the dwarves."

"Alright."

That settled, Del went to get a good night's sleep, so he and Xinval could aim for the limited hours of daylight up on the tundra.

Xinval had never known cold like this, but at least the weather was clear. When he looked toward the settled area, he winced to see the signs of warfare, the way nothing had really been rebuilt in the time after conquest.

"They will not thrive, and more will die," Del said sadly, seeing the gaze. "I wish it were otherwise, but I have seen and been told of the pattern, of peoples conquering, and failing to adapt to settled life."

"A pity. At least drow usually make use of territory they conquer in a way that lets it renew into something approaching a livable life."

Del nodded, then looked all around, hoping for a physical sign of dwarves or ranger… and Xinval closed his eyes to use the prayed-for sending.

~Drizzt Do'Urden, it is Xinval. I have an ally, we are camped on the lone peak, on guard against the humans.~

The absolute amazement and concern in the return sending made Xinval thank the goddess for preserving the stubborn ranger.

~I am near the Sea of Moving Ice, and will head that way. Beware the weather as much as humans.~

"He says beware the weather, and he is near 'the Sea of Moving Ice'," Xinval relayed.

"I didn't memorize phantom steed and don't have a flying carpet, so we will have to wait. But we can move closer to the base, on the side nearer the sea, and if he has not made it to us by morning, I will have new spells."

Xinval nodded, and let the half-human lead the way, trusting his sense more in this alien environment.

Drizzt made it to the secure shelter in the middle of the night. Xinval took one look at him and pulled him down on a cot, focusing on healing with every prayer-spell he had. Even with that, Del pushed an elixir and a potion at him, having never seen a drow look gray, and very worried about the color of the tips of his ears under the thick grease Drizzt had smeared them with.

"Introductions?" the ranger finally managed to say, once they both stopped fussing and he was sitting with a warm drink cradled in his mittened hands.

"Uoundeld Aerasumé, please call me Del, and you are Drizzt Do'Urden, father — one of them — to my cousin Zanna."

Those purple eyes blinked in surprise at that. "The Aerasumé pegasus riders like the one in Waterdeep?"

"Yes. I'm one of her nephews," Del said, smiling as he answered the gist of that question. Xinval nodded for confirmation.

"But he's not claiming cousin with Zanna over that connection, much as our Lady is glad to call you kin," Xinval told him. "The wizard you so carefully never named is cousin to the Tall Ones' father by blood."

"Oh." Drizzt absorbed that, then looked at Del directly again. "Sharr or Kor? Both names came up in his tales."

Del looked like he couldn't decide between sorrow and mirth, then decided to just chuckle a bit and give a half-smile. "If uncle Kor has ever noticed a woman long enough to sire a child, we've never heard about it.

"No. Sharrevaliir was our father."

Drizzt winced. "I am sorry… and Sam didn't know."

"No. Mom broke it to him when he called on her for assistance," Del admitted. "He's muttering 'stupid elves' half the time when he sees me."

"Why?"

"I was still a kid when we lost him, not even twenty."

Drizzt sucked in a deep breath. "With such a powerful cleric as our Lady?! I join Sam in that!"

Del did laugh at that, before shaking his head. "Long since done, but… I think most of the family agrees, even if they don't say it out loud. I made peace with it."

Drizzt sipped his drink, before asking more questions, learning what was known, especially of how the children had fared. They told him, including what was suspected about the dwarves tunneling south, leaving Drizzt in a much better frame of mind.

With no way to communicate to the dwarves, Del steadied himself and teleported both of the drow near the hiexel. Xinval hesitated little, but Drizzt put an arm around his shoulders.

"My dwarf friends know that Zanna and I came from other goodly drow. And Sam…" For that, he merely gestured ahead at the wagon-turned-cabin, and the dwarrows playing in the light snow around the tree. "A most unusual elf."

"So he seems to be. Very well. I could have requested a wizard come fetch me," Xinval said.

"But why should you?" Del asked. "Come and join the feast I am certain my cousin and brother will host, and I will see you home tomorrow."

Drizzt grinned when Xinval smiled for Del's enthusiasm. The trio made their way to the ward line, with Drizzt picking up the pace once he could hear the children.

He paused at the line, but did not have to wait as Sam had come out and hastily allowed passage. Nor did Sam stop moving, though he did hold back when Zanna raced past him and flung herself at her other father.

Drizzt scooped her up, bringing her in close, holding her there, and burying his face in her hair. It was one thing to know she was safe, and another to be reunited.

Catti-brie had jogged over, and her face was soft, but then she noted the stranger, a drow, and remembered her manners. "Catti-brie. Ye must be one o' their people," she offered. "Xinval? I think me ranger said that was the priestly name."

Xinval's eyes widened; not only had Drizzt spoken of them, but the human had remembered them?

"Yes," he said simply.

"Thank ye for helpin' tae find him. And takin' care o' him, because I know he was a mess when ye found him."

"Catti," Drizzt whined, before shifting to reach for her, Zanna on his hip now.

She got a hug, then adeptly took her little sister from him as the sun elf was waiting patiently. She watched as Drizzt took him in, head to toe, before Sam just swept in and engulfed the shorter man in a hug.

"Oh my friend, we have much to catch up on," Sam murmured, as Drizzt returned that hug.

"We know where the hall is, me ranger," Catti-brie said, sitting with Drizzt up in the hiexel's branches that night. He had his cloak around them both, and was soaking up the peace of the stars above.

"Sam did it then?"

"Aye. Good man, that one."

"I think so. He's offered to move the hiexel somewhere between the city of Silverymoon and the Frost Hills. I take it that's where it is?"

"Aye." She leaned over into him. "Ye think me Da — "

"I know he was well when I went out last to sow dissent between the Tribes. I know the clan was making him stay inside and lead the work to dig," Drizzt told her. "I have no reason to believe anything happened to them after that point."

She let out a sigh of relief. "Then, come spring, we go find them?"

"He'll probably yell at me, but yes. Sam said he can manage the young ones as his cousin Dol is staying for the duration, and he will have Auntie and Uncle to aid.

"You, myself, and Dulan will go and try to intercept the clan, so we can guide them toward the Hall. After?"

"After is another plan, me ranger. We'll get there."

Drizzt was able to lead Dulan and Catti-brie to the clan before they even finished breaching the surface in the Spine of the World. Mostly, he thought, because of Guen, who had been more sensitive to the vibrations in the ground. So they were all waiting, and Bruenor was the first up, looking around.

"Took you long enough," Drizzt said wryly.

"ELF! Me BAIRN!"

From there, it was just a matter of reunions, and a bit of talk, but Catti-brie thought they were well on their way to getting things straightened out, and a new home was waiting for them to reclaim it.

senmut

Drow and Moose (300 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: Drizzt Do'Urden, Bruenor Battlehammer, Guenhwyvar [Legend of Drizzt]
Additional Tags: Triple Drabble, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Crack
Summary:

A ranger should have a companion, right? Not just an astral panther?

Drow and Moose

"What's that thing?"

Drizzt looked to his hands to see if he was holding anything Bruenor should not recognize, but no, just his bow in the one hand.

Bruenor pointed past his shoulder, and Drizzt turned to see.

"Oh. That's my new friend."

His new friend's shoulder was just at the top of Drizzt's head, and the broad antlers were nothing like the elk Bruenor was more familiar with.

"Friend?"

As if sensing the skepticism, Drizzt's friend came and shoved him in one shoulder, before sniffing toward his pouch for treats.

"Friend," Drizzt said cheerfully, finding one. "He's a moose."

"No."

The moose looked at him plaintively.

"You can't come into the city."

Drizzt's friend stared reproachfully at the horses being allowed to strut through the gate.

"Hey." Drizzt reached up for the moose's head, getting him to lower it so Drizzt could press his forehead to the moose's. "I will be safe in there, and you can go see if you can find a girl moose, alright?"

The overly large beast considered the feel of those words, then made a noise of agreement.

"I'll call to you, when I come back out," Drizzt promised, and the moose wandered off.

Alces, as Drizzt had chosen for a name, had been uncertain of Guen.

She had been just as uncertain, but eventually they worked it out.

Now, facing a small raiding party of orcs with one off each shoulder, Drizzt smiled devilishly.

"Are you really feeling strong in your gods today?" he called to them, while Guen dropped into a crouch as a prelude to a leap, and Alces lowered his head to put those antlers at orc-face level.

The leader started to raise his spear. Drizzt outlined it in faerie-fire, and both animals took off.

So did the orcs — retreating!

Current Mood: calm
Current Music: "In the End" - Linkin Park

somariel

Quests (2395 words) by Somariel
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Drizzt Do'Urden, Catti-brie (Dungeons & Dragons), Bruenor Battlehammer
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ensemble Cast
Series: Part 5 of Have Your Cake, Part 17 of A Crossing of the Realms
Summary:

While Drizzt is undertaking a ranger's quest, paths converge in such a way as to result in him providing the catalyst for an entirely different quest.

Beginning notes

There are no specific fics that inspired this one, but Drizzt's first meeting with Catti-brie does borrow heavily from

senmut's fic "Walking His Former Path".

And this fic does assume familiarity with the previous fics in the "Have Your Cake" series

Quests

Given the ranging opportunities the Frost Hills offered, Drizzt had remained at Spirit Sanctuary for a few more years after the curse broke, until Zanna was a little older, sturdier, and more able to be separated from either of her parents.

But once Zanna had turned three, Drizzt had found himself becoming restless over remaining there, so a month and a half after her third birthday, the two of them had taken up residence in Silverymoon, with Drizzt contracting with the city as a weapons instructor for the Knights in Silver, and a ranger on call for them as needed.

Initially, arrangements for Zanna's care when Drizzt was out of the city, and Samiar could not take her, had been made with a married pair of Spellguards who had children of their own.

But when Niska Bentleaf had approached Drizzt about working with her to create a lexicon for Drow, she had had her heart stolen by Zanna, and soon enough, her schedule and Drizzt's were arranged to allow Zanna to stay with her whenever possible.

And that was how things continued, until Zanna was five and a half.

1351 DR, mid-spring

A ranger's dreams were never something to ignore, so when Drizzt had started dreaming of snow-covered mountains and cliffs of ice, accompanied by a pull to the northwest, he had made arrangements to suspend his teaching duties and on-call status with the Knights in Silver, brought Zanna to Samiar with an explanation of what was going on, and headed up to Icewind Dale.

Rather than try and find a place in the towns, he had chosen to search for a cave on Kelvin's Cairn, and soon enough, he had found one large enough to make a living space for both him and Lothalninil.

A few days after he had found the cave, Drizzt was brushing out Lothalninil's coat when an adolescent human girl crested the ridge near where the cave sat.

"Please don't be alarmed," he called to her, and he knew she'd only seen Lothalninil at first, from the tension that shot through her. "I am a ranger, shocking as that may seem to you, and this is my friend Lothalninil. My name is Drizzt Do'Urden."

The girl didn't run, but she didn't come any closer, either. Lothalninil snorted, tossing her head, making her forelock flip in the air.

"What be ye, and the not-horse?"

Lothalninil whickered with dismay at being named anything close to a horse, and Drizzt soothed her down before he put the currying tools aside and came to the other side of his friend to be seen more fully.

"I am a drow, a dark elf, but one who has forsaken the evils of most of that people. Lothalninil is a pegasus, and she is as intelligent, more at times, as any speaking being."

The noise said 'decidedly so' from his friend, and the girl wound up grinning, able to sense that much from the sound and posture.

"Why are ye here, then? Ne'er been a ranger that stayed, and the hunters said they been seein' light up here a few days now."

"My Lady Mielikki has drawn me up here to find something that is a threat to the wilds and their natural ways."

The girl tilted her head thoughtfully. "How'd ye know this was where She wanted ye tae come?"

"I was having dreams of snow-covered mountains and cliffs of ice, and the pull of a threat in need of dealing with that my Lady guides me with led me in this direction."

The girl frowned for a moment after he answered, then shook her head. "If'n that's good enow fer ye, I'm nae goin' tae argue."

Then a bright smile crossed her face, and she asked, "C'n I come and visit ye an' yer friend sometimes?"

"If your family has no objections to you spending time with a stranger, young one, then yes, you may."

The girl flushed, as she realized she'd had his name, but not given hers. "Catti-brie, and I'll ask me da. He'll prob'ly want tae meet ye afore he says aye or nay."

"Then I will look forward to meeting him."

The meeting with Catti-brie's father—a dwarf, which Drizzt had not expected despite recognizing her accent as being the same as that of Spirit Sanctuary's dwarves—had happened the next day, and it had gone well enough, largely thanks to Lothalninil's presence, that Drizzt's promise to treat Catti-brie as he would Zanna had been sufficient for Bruenor to agree that the girl could come visit him and Lothalninil as she felt like it.

With that matter settled, Drizzt had returned to the task of outfitting the cave as an actual residence, and just a week and a half later, he had it to the point where he was ready to use his sending stone to ask Samiar to bring Zanna up for a visit and a discussion of—now that Drizzt had a proper home set up—whether she would remain with Sam, or stay in Icewind Dale with him.

Catti-brie hurried up the Cairn towards the ranger's cave, eager to see him and Lothalninil again, and not wanting to risk missing them like she had that morning.

She was so eager, in fact, that it was not until after she had greeted Lothalninil that she noticed that there was someone other than Drizzt in the cave.

But before she could do more than shuffle her feet nervously, a young voice spoke up from the other side of the golden-skinned elf sitting on the couch Drizzt had made.

"Papa, who's this?" And then a child of about five, with skin not quite as dark as Drizzt's, hair not quite as light, and the same pointed ears as Drizzt and the strange elf, stuck her head out where Catti could see it.

"Zanna, this is Catti-brie," Drizzt said, looking straight at the little girl. "Her father is the leader of the dwarves that live in the cleft below this mountain."

Then he turned towards Catti, and said, "Catti-brie, this is my daughter, Zanna Do'Urden, and her other parent, Samiar Ravarel."

"Hi," Zanna chirped. "Lothalninil likes you, so I do too. Friends?"

"Pleased tae meet ye, Zanna," Catti-brie replied. "And if'n yer Papas are okay wi' it, I'd love tae be yer friend."

Samiar threw a look at Drizzt, and after a silent conversation held in facial movements and tilts of the head, Drizzt smiled. "It's fine with both of us."

Turning his attention back to Zanna, he continued, "However, Daddy and I do need to finish our conversation. Would you like to show Catti-brie how to groom Lothalninil?"

"Yes!" Zanna hopped off the couch, and hurried over to Catti-brie.

And as she pulled the older girl towards where Drizzt stored the currying tools, chattering away about Papa and Daddy and Cousin Ellie and Auntie Vehna and Grampa and Nana, Samiar looked after her with a soft smile.

"I think our daughter just answered our question for us," he said.

"Agreed," Drizzt replied.

When Bruenor had decided to offer Drizzt assistance from some of his people to improve the path up to the ranger's cave, he hadn't expected anything else to come of it other than the ranger getting a chance to prove himself to those of the clan who were still doubtful of him.

Which was why he couldn't keep his jaw from dropping when, upon being introduced to Grollo as the lead for the project, Drizzt had studied his face carefully, then asked, "Would you happen to be related to a Micken Hamur?"

Snapping his jaw shut with an effort of will, Bruenor looked at Grollo, who was staring at Drizzt in shock, and said, "Go find Auntie Eldeth, me kinsman, an' bring her tae me office. We need her knowledge o' the bloodlines."

Grollo shook himself out of his stupor at that, and nodded. "Aye, Chief, I will." And then he hurried off to do as bidden.

It didn't take long for Bruenor to bring Drizzt to his office, and Grollo arrived with Auntie Eldeth shortly thereafter, so once they were all seated, Bruenor told his aunt what Drizzt had asked Grollo.

"Was there a Micken Hamur, Auntie?"

"Aye," Auntie said, after a long moment of startled silence. "Naught but a babe of a few months, but aye, there was."

Bruenor let out a gusty sigh, then turned to Drizzt. "Sae how'd ye come tae know Micken?"

"He's one of several dwarves living in the settlement in the Frost Hills that my sister leads.

"Though only two others are survivors of whatever drove injured, elderly, and young out of their home so close to winter, with the remaining five being the survivors' spouses and children."

Bruenor could see both Auntie and Grollo shifting uncomfortably at the idea that a drow settlement might be so close to their lost Hall, and chose to preempt any hasty words from them.

"This sister o' yers is the Auntie Vehna yer lass talks about, then?"

"She is," Drizzt replied. "My sister Vierna, who has been a priestess of Eilistraee for almost two and a half centuries, and First Sister of Spirit Sanctuary for nearly as long."

"D'ye know if'n they c'n remember any more about where the Hall actually is than we can?" Auntie asked.

"They can't, but other information indicates that it is most likely somewhere in the Frost Hills."

"Aye?" Bruenor couldn't help the hopeful tone of his voice as he spoke.

"Spirit Sanctuary's scouts found the survivors between the Frost Hills and the River Surbrin to their east," Drizzt said, "and the ruins of Settlestone are not far west of Fourth Peak."

"Aye, that'd've been the trading point," Auntie agreed. "An' ye said the survivors yer sister's people found included injured and elderly, sae it's nae very likely they'd gotten far from whate'er exit they used."

Bruenor had been thinking carefully as Drizzt outlined why he believed the Hall was in the Frost Hills, and when Auntie had finished what she had to add, he spoke again.

"C'n ye get someone else tae come up here wi' a map showin' these places? Preferably someone who can back ye up on all this?"

Seeing a hint of hurt in Drizzt's expression, Bruenor explained, "It's nae that I donnae believe ye, but we've been wi'out any hope o' findin' the Hall again fer sae long, the more people who c'n repeat it, the better."

"Ah," Drizzt said. "I can understand that.

"And I can use my sending stone to ask Samiar to pass along your request to his cousin's sons—one of whom is a semi-regular visitor at Spirit Sanctuary."

"Aye, that'd do nicely."

In addition to a map with the relevant locations marked, Thyl had also brought both Micken himself, and news of further survivors, who had been taken to Felbarr and Adbar by his older brothers.

And when he returned south with Micken, he carried the news that Bruenor's portion of the clan would be returning to the Silver Marches the following year.

Given the close friendship that had sprung up between Zanna and Catti-brie, Bruenor's decision to return south had generated a strong desire in Drizzt to find whatever had drawn him up to Icewind Dale in time for him and Zanna to join the clan's migration.

But while he had mentioned that desire to Thyl, he had still not expected two other Tall Ones to arrive just a few days later, well equipped to help him conduct a concentrated search.

Despite his surprise, however, he was quite pleased to accept their help, and after settling Zanna under Catti-brie's care, the three of them headed for the Spine, Drizzt on Lothalninil and the Tall Ones on phantom steeds.

That began a regular rotation of Tall Ones coming up to assist with his search, and a bit more than two months later, just a week after the Midsummer festival, the artifact was located.

And once it had been delivered to Elminster for safekeeping until a method of destruction could be determined, Drizzt turned his efforts towards gathering and preserving food for the coming migration, both hunting and fishing for the clan's benefit, and harvesting and drying grasses to supplement whatever grazing Lothalninil might manage on the journey.

1352 DR

The Icewind Dale contingent of Clan Battlehammer, accompanied by Drizzt, Zanna, and Lothalninil, began their trek south as soon as they were certain that the passes in the Throat were clear enough to handle their caravan.

A stop in Mirabar to pick up a guide with knowledge of the lands between the Lurkwood and the Surbrin Hills saw them joined by one Foveni Drakebow, and by the time summer began, they had reached Settlestone, and joined in on the work of restoring it to habitability that had been begun the previous year by the clan members in the Silver Marches.

Bruenor had met with Vierna fairly soon after his portion of the clan had arrived, but for the most part, his initial focus was on fixing up Settlestone.

Once he was satisfied that the work was coming along well enough that it would be fully habitable by the time winter set in, however, he arranged for a meeting with Drizzt and the survivors from Spirit Sanctuary, to work on narrowing down the exact location of the Hall and probable entrances.

Keeper's Dale, and the hidden door within it, was found less than a month later, and after Bruenor had made Drizzt known as an ally to his father and grandfather's dying curse, the ranger scouted the Hall for him, to learn exactly what it was that had driven the clan from their home.

Drizzt's return, with his skin near ashen in color, bearing word of the shadow dragon and its duergar minions, set off a significant hubbub, and while he recovered in the Sacred Glade in Silverymoon, Bruenor negotiated with Alustriel for wizards to deal with the dragon, and put out a call to the Citadels for fighters to aid in defeating the duergar.

However, it was well into fall by the time all arrangements had been made, so the decision was made to postpone the campaign until the following year.

And in the spring of 1353 DR, Mithral Hall was reclaimed, and Bruenor Battlehammer was crowned as its eighth king.

senmut

The End Comes at Last (5237 words) by Sharpest_Asp, Ilyena_Sylph
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Drizzt Do'Urden, Bruenor Battlehammer, Vierna Do'Urden, Zaknafein Do'Urden
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Typical Violence
Series: Part 5 of Oblodra Gloom
Summary:

Vierna's quest is on the cusp of completion.

The End Comes at Last

After much consideration, and a lot of arguing as well as the deliberate hammering on the fact that the dragon had likely taken its hated duergar with it, Drizzt was given leave to go negotiate.

He spent the ice-locked season scouting right up to the area the artifact insisted was the second pool of Shadowfell energy. It was the very last peak in the region called the Frost Hills. He found interesting landmarks, and… an abandoned town built in stone above ground that would serve well as a base camp.

From there, it was a matter of seeking the best route. The clan could not take the one he intended to use to get back to Icewind Dale, across the peaks, but a stealthy trip inside a small town near the peaks let him gain access to better maps. The residents of Rivermoot never knew a drow had raided their town for knowledge, and he skipped off across the mountains as soon as he thought it was warm enough to make it to the dwarves.

He waited outside, near the trade door, making certain he was ready to do this. He had offers he could make, some things that were forbidden, and an injunction to make the dwarves do as much of the work as possible.

He could handle this, he told himself, before finally tapping on the trade door.

The spy-hole slid open, and there was a startled, "Ye're back?" before the door opened to let him in. "Chief said tae let ye in, but yer not tae go past the trade cavern wi'out him, ye ken?"

"Understandable," Drizzt said easily. He slipped in, went to the office, and began setting out the maps and drawings he had ready for explaining it all, to persuade the chieftain to this cause.

Nor was he kept waiting all that long, and he turned to see the dwarf he truly hoped would one day be a friend.

"Greetings, Chieftain," he said in a friendly manner.

"Greetings tae ye," Bruenor replied, "tis still right early, surprised as ye made it through th' passes sae soon, lad."

"I came over the mountains," Drizzt said easily enough. "More of a straight shot from where I was." He indicated the maps, before tapping the drawings of Fourth Peak. "I hope some of these spark a memory."

"Over th' mountains?" Bruenor stared at him, shaking his head emphatically, before he came to stare at the drawings. "Mountains," he said, "and... ye've a fine hand, tae catch 'em sae well."

He picked up one of the drawings to hold it more in line with where the horizon would be, trying to see if it did touch anything in his memory... but nothing came. He shook his head, and put it back down. "That one, at least, nae... why did ye think as it might?"

"More a hope out of a wish to spare you any meddling in your mind," Drizzt admitted. "I went to the Frost Hills. And Fourth Peak," he said, tapping it on the regional map of that area, "is where my sister's artifact says the Shadowfell energy is strongest.

"As unusual as these columns and that above-ground abandoned town are, I truly did wish they'd push through your memory." He shrugged. "Maybe drawings aren't enough. Possibly being there will be. If you choose to come scout it."

"It's a chance tae find me Hall again, lad," Bruenor replied. "If ye tracked the same magic as is on me clan tae this place," he gestured at the drawings, "then aye, I'll go wi' ye tae seek."

He picked up the one of the town, shifting it from near his nose to almost at arm's length, studying it intently. "Dwarves built that," he said, finally, "nae doubt o' that. 'S wrong for humans, an' elves donnae oft build so much in stone.... exceptin' yer people, I'd guess?"

"Hmm, our building with stone is a bit different," Drizzt said, amused. "But on the surface, the drow I have seen tend to take over established places, rather than build anew." He shrugged. "I don't much like the ones I have seen above so far. Their interpretations of religious writings is far too loose.

"But, I am glad you will go to look. As I am hopeful about seeing your people safely back to your home, while also helping my sister finish her quest. It will the right thing for your people, and aid her in remaining safe as well as protecting our father."

"I'd ne'er heard aught good about any drow, afore ye came," Bruenor admitted, "but yer a fair one. I'll need a day or three to see things aright while I'm gone, will that be a trouble for ye?"

"Not at all." Drizzt grinned. "I'll stop back in three days? As it will let me see more of this area, stretch my legs, restock my food," he suggested.

"Aye, that will do," Bruenor decided. "I'll get t'other old ones tae come an' look, mayhap one o' them will recall somewhat, from yer drawin's."

Drizzt inclined his head to that, then picked his pack back up. "My greetings to your clan, and I hope young Catti-brie is quite well."

He'd be glad for a chance to explore, and see more of this strange land.

Bruenor proved to be a good traveling companion, the whole way around the Spine and up into the Hills. The fights they had found in various points had given them each a measure of the other's skills.

Now, Drizzt perched on the wall of one of the buildings in the dwarf-built town as Bruenor wandered from place to place, trying to undo the curse on him by seeking something, anything that might be familiar.

The mark of the trade-clan helped; Bruenor had always known that part of his clan were more distant kin, and they kept their mark on the records they made, handling trade with Ten-Towns for them.

"Aye, elf, this was part of our trading range, for that mark tae be here," Bruenor called to him. He turned and looked at the peak looming up over them. "Ye think it be there, nae further in the hills?"

"The Shadow-energy dissipates as I move away from the fourth one," Drizzt said. "It's stronger at the lower part of the mountain than the top, but then… dwarves would delve low, not high, for ores."

"Aye, indeed."

"Let us rest this night here, and come the morning, explore the strange columns, and the river side if that doesn't aid us." Drizzt dropped down off the wall, coming over to the dwarf struggling to make his mind work.

"And if that fails?" Bruenor asked with a pessimist's eye to the sole goal he had for his entire life.

"We camp, and my sister comes to us, to see if she can heal the memory wound barring you from what we need."

Bruenor scowled, but they had no choice, if they were going to learn the way in.

Using Guen's ability to find portals in the Underdark helped Bruenor and Drizzt find the way in, once Bruenor had found the hidden stair, and was insistent that a door had to exist on the blank face of the mountain.

Guen could not, however, open the door, nor could Bruenor command it to work, but Drizzt's curiosity and tapping along the area with his dagger — crafted by coastal dwarves and then enchanted for a favor done for a witch outside of Neverwinter provided the clue.

Drizzt half-wondered if the blade's enchantments would ever work again or if the door had drained them all as the energy soaked out and let Bruenor open the passage. Ahh, well. That witch wasn't afraid of him and had appreciated his skills. She might redo them for another task.

After that, it was but another adventure, one built on stealth and the memories ever-so-slowly seeping back in as Bruenor told the Hall that Drizzt was their ally.

Even knowing the ancient enemy that had despoiled his home city was here, Drizzt was unprepared for the sheer depth of the evil miasma lurking. He'd never had to deal with such a thing out of true combat, such as when he protected his father's back in House Oblodra, and it made him wonder, especially as the gentle song in his mind faded to a whisper.

Drizzt stood for a very long moment under the moon, letting it pour down on him, before he collapsed to his knees. That Bruenor dropped alongside him, to the point of just lying flat out on his back staring up at the skies, was reassuring; Drizzt wasn't being weak to let the relief of being out of there hit him so hard.

After an indeterminate time, he put his hand on the sending stone to his father.

~Tell her it is the mountain, he is there, thousands of duergar, a pair of hounds, shades, slaves, and a few shadar-kai.~

~You'd better be alright, son of mine, or she nor I will be happy,~ was the gruff but loving reply.

With that done, Drizzt turned his head to look at Bruenor. "Probably not safe to camp this close. Think we can cross the river and find a spot?"

"Aye, elf. That much we have in us," Bruenor agreed, and slowly rolled to get back on his feet. He moved awkwardly, but the regalia had been needed, if Bruenor was going to motivate the dwarves of the region to fight for taking his Hall back.

Drizzt didn't envy him, as the mithral shirt he wore was light but unfitted. It had been too finely made for him to refuse the gift, and Bruenor had promised to have it fitted.

Vierna did not linger long over the communal meal in the Temple, not after the moment Zaknafein had caught her eye and laid his hand on the table in the shape of a 'd' for a heartbeat. She was not hasty, but soon enough she and their father were alone in her quarters, with the protections raised.

"You've heard from him?"

It was not the new or full moon, so that sign had to mean that Drizzt had reached out. For him to have reached out off-schedule, he had found something or there was some trouble beyond what he could deal with.

"The mountain is confirmed as our target," Zaknafein said. "He sounded tired, but reported the dragon is there with duergar, slaves, shades, hounds, and some shadar-kai." He shook his head. "If that boy got close enough to see the dragon…" He let the fatherly threat trail off. In his heart, he knew Drizzt would have insisted on getting that close.

Vierna sighed, raking her fingers through her hair. "You know he would have," she said, "but that isn't going to save him from my shaking him for doing it. With any luck, the damned thing was asleep.

"I suppose we're going to be testing out our Surface gear, then." She didn't bother to pretend Zaknafein was not going to be going with her, she'd have to petrify him to stop him and she knew it. "Hopefully there's a cavern somewhere nearby we can take shelter in."

"I'll leave you to coordinating that with him when you take your own spells," Zak said wryly, certain Drizzt was already planning on staging areas. "I'll need to see what I can, have him map for me, to be able to handle the fighters we take. And the wizards." He did not roll his eyes at that necessity. "Question is, do we let Jarlaxle know, so we can give him time to scout up to the den, given Drizzt being certain it is not far from Menzoberranzan?"

On the one hand, having surprise allies would be a benefit. On the other, if Jarlaxle wasn't careful, their former Matron might become aware of them.

Vierna hummed thoughtfully, tapping her fingers on her thigh in an idle pattern as she considered. "I see advantages to both, but... I think not. He is incredible at defending his mind, but what he doesn't know can't hurt us."

Zak inclined his head to that; he would not have minded the personal benefit of it at all -- and then he realized his son was probably going to be protective of the damned dwarves by the end of this.

"For the better to leave him out then."

"Yes," Vierna agreed, then a corner of her mouth quirked up. "Once this is over, Corvayn said he saw Bregan D'aerthe sigils in Skullport. You could go with one of the caravans down there for a while..."

She flashed a wider smile as her father momentarily glared at her.

She would need sending spells for tomorrow, as many as she could take, and if they went by portal up to the Surface, a teleport as well.

Vierna had waited for true night to fall in Drizzt's region before she reached out with her last sending, on the Surface already with Zak, to get a sighting for her teleport from her brother without being blinded.

How he endured that damned ball of fire, she would never understand.

Drizzt felt her questing send, had warned Bruenor that his family was coming, and found one of the buildings with a distinctive look to one wall and floor, using it as what he sent back in reply to her.

~Here, sister.~ Between the view, and her crafting of the sending stone, as well as Vhaeraun's intense interest in this quest, she had no trouble with the teleport.

Zaknafein, as always, shuddered a little; the effect was close to instantaneous but for her, a cleric of the Masked God, it meant moving through shadows not that far removed from the actual Shadowfell.

It was why Vhaeraun hated this dragon, for normally He was an ally to that realm, yet harm to drow trumped any alliances.

Vierna let go of Zak's hands to move to her brother, frowning as she took in his chilled appearance, and caught hold of his hands even as she greeted him, murmuring the three-word incantation for her healing spell.

Drizzt sighed, but accepted that this was who they were, and let the faintly tingling spell run its course without saying anything about it.

"It is good to see you, Vierna. Father. We're in the abandoned town on the side of the mountain. I thought you'd prefer to be out of the elements."

"Appreciated, but you look like hell," Zak said. "Or did, which means you needed what she just did."

Vierna leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Don't sigh at me; you look much better now. The dwarf has been taking at least decent care of you, I will admit. And yes. I appreciate not being out there. Do we sit so you can tell us, or..."

"He's sleeping," Drizzt agreed, and settled on the floor. "He's wanted me to improve a bit, while we figure out how to both get his clan down here and start building an alliance of dwarves to deal with the duergar.

"As, like we agreed in Rilauven with the fighters and wizards, the duergar are not necessarily our focus in this." Drizzt grinned. "He's thinking the need to kill gray ones will overcome the wariness of working with drow."

"It had better," Zak said. "How many shadar-kai and hounds do you estimate, son?"

"Two hounds; there were two beds in the lair. The shadar-kai? I only saw sign of five of them, but figure at least twice that."

"At least," Vierna agreed, nodding agreement. Two hounds wasn't terrible, the shadar-kai would be more difficult.

And then, of course… there was the dragon itself, the beast that had stolen worship from proper deities to fuel its own twisted ambitions and had destroyed and despoiled drow cities over its millennia of life.

"What is he thinking about the logistics?" Zaknafein asked, itching to have maps, but he doubted his son had had time to draw them yet.

"To go north, bring most of his fighting dwarves, then approach one of the citadels closer to here while the fighters turn this into a proper base camp." Drizzt shrugged. "It's doable, but only just barely, given the distances involved. It still might be spring next year before we can actually undertake the attack.

"But the fighters can move swiftly, without the young and old."

Vierna nodded. "I would not be allowed to make a portal for dwarves, even for this, I do not think," she said thoughtfully, "so that is likely the best that can be done. Have you seen anywhere we can shelter our people, until just before the attack begins?"

Drizzt nodded. "I found what Bruenor says was a stopover cavern, shaped and smoothed with water, for travelers to rest before starting up the road to here. It is not far from the door we intend to use to go in, once we have a wizard willing to passwall in with a dwarf to open it.

"As it only opens outward."

"So you already know where we're staging the army he's going to recruit?" Zaknafein asked.

"I will draw it all out," Drizzt promised. "As I am going to have to be one of the first in, to take the guards on the only bridge that will get us to the area that will make a good standing point."

"A distance attack, I take it," Zaknafein mused. "Best if the wizard that goes in first have a spell on hand, just in case."

"Of course," Drizzt said, refusing to feel slighted that his skill might not be good enough. This was not a time for pride.

Vierna nodded her agreement, as it was always better to have a backup plan -- or several -- at important points of any plan. "So," she said, "what else do we need to know at the moment?"

Drizzt settled in to tell them from memory, to better cement it for when he drew it for them.

Drizzt brought them to meet his ally, this Bruenor Battlehammer who had, so far, taken care of Drizzt when Vierna herself could not, once the wretched ball of fire had disappeared behind the mountains -- at least there was that much for it. Also, Drizzt had crafted faerie-fire lighting for the building the dwarf-chieftain intended to keep as his own, her eyes noticed gratefully as they came in. There was a low fire, but one or the other of them had piled large logs in front of it to block the majority of the heat from assaulting them.

Bruenor was seated on what appeared to be another chunk of log standing on end, and Vierna appraised him curiously. Very healthy, she thought, by his broad shoulders, solid chest, and massively muscled arms. Thighs and calves, too, had all the brawny thickness of dwarves. There was nothing at all attractive about him, but his face was at least calm and thoughtful.

"Bruenor Battlehammer, heir of Clan Battlehammer, this is Vierna Do'Urden, my sister and a cleric of Vhaeraun, as well as Zaknafein Do'Urden, my father and Weapon Master to many." Drizzt gave a smile for adding that bit. "My father will likely coordinate the effort to remove the dragon, with my sister's guidance."

"Yes," Zak said. "Greetings. My son says you have a plan to get your fighters here, but building alliances may push the restoration of the Hall until three quarters of a year from now?"

"Aye," the dwarf replied, nodding once. "Won't be many dwarves as won't want tae come an' aid with re-takin' a dwarf-hall as has been run over by stinkin', wretched gray ones, even with a false-god dragon in the mix... but it'll take time tae get where I need to be tae talk with them. Feedin' 'em, too, on th' way here an' while we're camped, is goin' tae take a fair bit o' talkin' on, too. Especially tryin' tae do it in spring... but it has tae be done. Sooner, the better -- and nae, no for me own pride. Durned dragon could turn intae a threat tae th' whole region any time."

Vierna nodded -- she understood all of that, and she could see the problem feeding so many fighters might bring. The Surface seasons made more impact than the life-cycles of the fungi of the Underdark, but it was still a problem. "That all seems reasonable," she said mildly.

"Seems the region should help make sure they're not the next victims," Drizzt said, seriously, and so perfectly logical yet mercenary that Zaknafein silently wished Jarlaxle a fortune. At least some practicality existed in his son.

"Drizzt has a point. Even if it is just providing food and adequate water to you and your allies, the dwarves will not be the only ones at risk once the dragon awakens," Zaknafein said. "It cannot return below, as we tore away its seat of power not long after it vanished to find your Hall.

"And it evidently refuses to return to the Shadowfell, implying that it has no further power base there."

Vierna let herself make an amused noise, looking from her brother to her father, but had nothing particularly useful to offer at the moment.

The chieftain's lips had pursed under his beard -- or at least, Vierna thought that was the expression -- but he had nodded at Drizzt, and again at their father. "Ye've a point, Drizzt, ye've a point there. Will have tae see what th' humans say, once I've me folk here."

"Too bad we can't manage a surgical strike to remove the dragon first," Zaknafein said with a sigh. "But it's too risky."

Drizzt considered, thinking, then shook his head. "I know we could get in, probably even stealth our way to the lair easily enough. But the dwarven curse would see us as dangers, and then we'd need to get out before the duergar reacted… too many variables." He then looked at Bruenor. "We had the responsibility of getting to the leadership that was left, in the effort to retake our city.

"It worked well, I think, but it had been planned all my life."

"Indeed," Vierna agreed, "it had. But I agree with both of you, I do not think it could be done. We were blessed to get through our attack with no more losses than we took, and we weren't facing the dragon."

The chieftain nodded. "Aye, an' while I could keep th' curse from touchin' Drizzt, I donnae think as I could manage that fer ye two. From what he said, yer god an' mine, they're nae friendly."

"No," Vierna replied, "they are not. And while He has put that aside for the common goal of this dragon's death, yours have... little reason... to have faith in that."

Drizzt nodded. "So, you two take the drawings I made today to plan our part of the assault, I see Bruenor back to his people and remain as a liaison," he said. "Once we have the dwarf side settled, we go from there?"

"I can't see much else to be accomplished right now," Zaknafein said. He then looked at Bruenor intently. "Take care of my son, and he will see you restored to your throne."

The chieftain seemed to bristle for a moment, skin around his blue eyes tightening, but then he nodded. "Aye, he's a good lad, an' a stubborn one, too. Figure as you're right."

Drizzt came and clasped hands with his father. "I'll see you both next spring, if not sooner," he promised, before turning to his sister, to let her decide their parting gesture.

She took a step closer, clasped his upper arms, and brushed a kiss over his cheek. "Stay in touch," she told him, smiling, before she stepped back. She would get back underground, with their father, before teleporting them back to the Neverwinter coast.

"May Vhaeraun keep you both well," Drizzt offered.

"And may you not find more trouble than usual," Zak said, before joining his daughter to leave.

Things went mostly as planned, with the 'mostly' falling on the side of 'not wanting evil drow involved' on the part of many of the allies that were reached out to. In the end, those mostly human cities agreed to provision the army, but provided nothing else in turn.

At least Silverymoon's refusal had come with a letter of apology for bowing to political necessity, which somewhat cooled Drizzt's anger over ignoring both the expertise his people brought and the threat to the entire region. He supposed that a city at the confluence of trade but far from the true grain baskets would have to be expedient.

Other cities had not been as polite, and outright hostile in their refusals.

The dwarves, on the other hand, had been firmly told from the beginning that they were using one evil to banish another, and the least sign of treachery would break any alliance in place. Drizzt had rolled his eyes; they were neither smiths nor miners. His people were coming to fulfill a god-given quest, and leaving to reap the rewards that Vhaeraun would give them. Any who died facing the dragon were assured of a place in Vhaeraun's personal legion in the afterlife.

Drizzt, who had lived with the dwarves in the entire time it took to assemble, was going to be leading the way in. The drow would flow in behind him, set up the needed pathway and protections for the army to get to the other side of the chasm. After that, the drow would strictly be hunting those things of the Shadowfell, with the Do'Urden men protecting their cleric for the fight against the dragon.

It was as planned as it could be, and in mid-spring, the time came for the attack.

Zaknafein had reason to be proud of his children. Drizzt had made the shots necessary to guard the bridge, and picked off a number of duergar as the initial staging happened. While the wizards were pouring corrosive spells and acid ones out to deal with the shadar-kai, Vierna was leading the clerics in keeping the dragon from escaping, and adding their own attacks to the beastly god.

He'd seen Drizzt and Guenhwyvar engage the hounds, meaning that protecting Vierna had become his sole focus. Nor was it easy, as mobs of duergar, goblins, and kobolds ignored the certain death to try and get to those who dared attack the dragon.

There was no way to dimension lock the entire battlefield, and there had been no way to anchor the spell to a living thing before Vierna had spent weeks in prayer and meditation, working out -- with her god's help -- how to make it so. That had been the greatest of the spells she had cast, and only the anti-magic field Nalatar Ssambra had cast in front of her had kept her from falling to the dragon's killing word. Blade barriers and wind walls protected their flanks at the greatest distance she had been able to cast them, and several of the others had helped ring in the dragon with the same spell to keep it within their range.

Vhaeraun had been generous, and the flame strikes that fell on the dragon from her, and from her cleric-sibs, were darkfire, so much less painful to their eyes. Swords and daggers manifested from their soul-stuff stabbed at the dragon's eyes and nostrils and sought soft places in its hide and joints, while every time the dragon cast a spell the cleric next in the list tried to counter it with their most powerful dispel magic.

Not every attempt succeeded, but enough did, and finally, finally, the great beast slammed into the side of the gorge and toppled headfirst down into the rushing waters of the river, sending up geysers of water... and the awful weight of its presence, the 'dragonfear', vanished.

It was dead, it was dead, and her joyous laughter rang out across the battleground.

Around them, the wails and shrieks of denial, of disbelief that rose up in the duergar ranks fortified the dwarven army. There would be no mercy, no relief to the ancient enemies as Bruenor led the charge time and again, resplendent in the fitted armor of his grandfather.

The drow, all of them that could, drew in tight to their clerics, with the less wounded gathering the bodies of those they had lost. Zaknafein was ignoring the itch to kill more duergar, scanning for any more Shadowfell inhabitants --

-- but every fighter he had picked had been ruthless in the moment the dragon fell. Sneak attacks, sudden brutal surges in strikes… the shadar-kai lay as dead as the dragon. That let Zaknafein look for his son, unconsciously counting their people as he did.

Drizzt was the last back to them, bearing one of Zak's fighters across a shoulder, and only one sword in hand. While Vierna looked every bit as exhausted as could be expected, Drizzt looked gray for some reason despite his burden.

"Who has the gate spell to get us out of here?" Zaknafein called when the numbers lined up, after he counted the dead and injured supported by others. It was a potent reminder that they were not staying for the aftermath, and gave them all focus.

"I'm not going," Drizzt said, passing the fighter off to one of the others. "I have promises to keep here."

Vierna wanted to protest, wanted desperately to protest, but it was true. She beckoned to him, though, and got hold of his cheek to push the one healing spell she had memorized for the day into him. "If you get hurt after we are gone," she told him harshly, "it will be centuries before I forgive you."

The gate spell went up, and Nalatar began ordering the rest of the Temple through. Vierna had a responsibility to stay to the end, despite her exhaustion, so she did, keeping her eyes out as barrier after barrier dissipated as their caster went through the gate.

Zaknafein made sure his son's second sword was merely sheathed, then briefly gripped him by the back of his head, as the exodus was happening. "Stay strong."

"Always," Drizzt said, having nodded to his sister's admonishment. He took kept watch, as even their father had to go through the gate before Vierna did, to hold to the full quest. Drizzt, being contaminated by the Dark Maiden, did not count against her, for all he had been her legs and eyes through it.

Once the last of their dead and living were through the gate, Vierna stepped backwards through it, and a moment later, it winked out.

Drizzt breathed out a small sigh of relief, to know this was done… and went to find Bruenor, to join the king he admired in the final push to reclaim the Hall.

At long last, the slayer of Chaulssin was dead, slain by His own people. Vhaeraun would keep close eyes on Vierna Do'Urden; she was definitely proving her worth.

"I release all claim on the ranger," He said absently.

"He was never going to fit in, but I will do nothing to break his appreciation of Your people," His sister said beside Him. "Well done, My brother." She left Him then, not remaining to see how Her approval had added one more sweet balm on this day.

Oblodra Gloom
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV Part V
* Links will work as parts are revealed

senmut

A Darkening of Gloom (5161 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: Bruenor Battlehammer, Drizzt Do'Urden, Vierna Do'Urden, Zaknafein Do'Urden
Additional Tags: Ensemble Cast
Series: Part 4 of Oblodra Gloom
Summary:

Vhaeraun entrusts His Masked Traitor with a quest, and a dwarf hall holds the key.

A Darkening of Gloom

1167 D.R.

Bangor Battlehammer wiped away the blood from his son's face, ignoring the attempt to scowl at him for it.

"Me boy," Bangor began, using the quiet voice, the one that spoke of serious tidings. "We cannae hold the upper levels much longer."

"Donnae be sayin' that, me da," Bruenor said, a coldness gripping his heart. At forty-seven, or near enough, he was too close to being an adult to give in to wanting to grab his father's apron and hold on tight, but there was something —

— something terrifying, more than the shadows that whittled their clan down in slow attrition.

"Our king, me own Da, he's gettin' the elders and the dwarrows and the babes," Bangor said, ignoring the protest. "Bruenor, ye have a duty to the clan."

That the duty was with those being gathered was left unsaid, but Bruenor exploded against that fate.

"Me place is defendin' me Hall, with me blood!"

"NAY, boy! Ye be the heir now! Ye will take them, and ye'll find a place, and ye'll grow strong! If'n we can collapse the bridge and drop the stair, we'll be behind ye!" Bangor told him with a hissed, harsh tone. "Ye take them tae Dwarvendarrow, wait three days.

"If'n we donnae come… ye go on, and ye be the king they will need!"

Bruenor met his father's eyes, saw the resolve there, and gave one more try.

"Can ye not be the king?"

"Nay, lad; yer Grandda has said all those above and below certain ages tae go, an' the rest o' us tae trap the shadows here. We owe that much to the Realms outside our Hall."

Bruenor wished he had a beard to soak away the tears trying to come to his eyes, and flung himself in for one last hug.

Bangor gave it, and Bruenor knew, even as he would wait, this would be the last he saw of his father.

Haerinvureem contemplated the tooth once more, then surveyed the forges all around him. Too much light and flame for his liking, but that was what the duergar existed for. They would mine, they would craft, and he would have objects made of mithral to build his new hoard around.

Who needed a drow city that would eventually rebel? Let Kyorl, pleasing as she had been at times, reap those surely-bitter rewards, even let her keep those he had shaped with Shadowfell magic and her psionics. He had gleaned so much knowledge from the soul trapped in the tooth, and now he held a lair befitting him.

He had only to deal with those that had managed to escape.

The hush on the land, a moonless night, and dread filling them all as it was their third one present with no word from the Hall had every dwarf wary. Those that kept Dwarvendarrow, a trading clan, were down to a handful, as the trade season was not yet upon them. They had dug out maps, likely places to go that wouldn't put the small and weakened clan at risk of falling under other, more powerful clans.

Come the morning, Bruenor would have to give the order. His cleric, an old dwarf with hands that shook but a presence that defied fate, had reinforced that the elders were to listen to their heir, even if he was nearly beardless.

The seeping pulse of magic came on the bloodlines, twisted divine energy seeking the heir, seeking all with claim, riding the very splash of potent curse magic invoked and reinforced by a dying king and his son in the Hall. Bruenor felt a blind panic, despair that threatened his very will to live, while it cast out from him to take all those who had escaped.

By morning, the rag tag band of elders and young, with that handful of trade dwarves, were bolting for distant lands, compelled to go as far as possible, to escape the danger that none of them could remember any more than they could recall where they were running from.

1337 D.R.

In Rilauven, a priestess found herself drawn into a dream.

The small family had, through Vierna's religion, found ways to stay hidden, and move away from Menzoberranzan. That city was beginning to open up to heavier trade -- in and out -- in order to reacquire its prestige and standing. Zak was able to work as an instructor, Vierna was polishing her skills as a cleric, and Drizzt was getting much of the education they had not been able to provide him in their former way of life.

To find this dream soaked in the red-tinged swirling clouds of her Lord's presence was worrying, to a degree, but she knew her standing, knew that whatever the summons was could not be about her actions.

"My Lord?" she asked, wondering but not afraid.

She had had no sense of that there was some particular upheaval or trouble that needed her, no awareness that anything was changing...

"My priestess," He answered her. "I have a task for you. The dragon… it was not present in your former city. And all that My informants have found, it did not return to the Shadowfell." The mask that was His symbol formed at a bit above her height, giving the impression of His presence in drow form, though not clearly. "I wish you to discover the destroyer, and orchestrate his ending."

"As You will it, my Lord," Vierna answered, though she did quail slightly at the idea of seeking for something her god did not know. "...perhaps if I seek for its magical signature -- with something like a compass, but tuned to it -- it can be found. I had little experience of it directly, but..."

Vhaeraun let the impression of a smile show in the shadows of His form. "You are a gifted priestess, skilled in designing artifacts." His pride in her radiated with warmth. "Use any resources necessary; I want that murderous upstart ripped from existence!"

She luxuriated in that pride, in His pleasure in her, and smiled back, radiant with delight. "I will do it," she told her Lord. If He thought her idea was reasonable, it would work, as long as she crafted well, "and Your desire is mine as well."

He left her with that pride, with the knowledge she was His favorite, so that she could finish out her rest and begin fresh.

1343 DR

Drizzt focused past the glare on the still snow-covered ground and then looked back to the talisman Vierna had gifted him with. In the six years since Vhaeraun had presented her with the task, the family had established themselves as a force to be reckoned with. Zaknafein and Drizzt often worked in tandem to acquire the materials needed — if it was in the Underdark.

Drizzt had spent his years learning Common, learned all he could of the Surface under the tutelage of Nalatar Ssambra, one of Vhaeraun's more academic-minded clerics. As Nalatar did not mind Drizzt's oddities, it had freed them all of concerns that Drizzt would be attacked, and forced into exile for killing the drow stupid enough to do that.

No one doubted that it would be self-defense or that Drizzt would prevail; he was both too kind to attack first, and too deadly to lose.

That education though, had led to Drizzt occasionally journeying above, finding things his sister decided she needed to craft the device.

And when the thing had stubbornly insisted that the two greatest concentrations of shadow-energy on the Material Plane were either back toward where they had come from or in the frozen wastes, Drizzt had volunteered to handle the next steps. He had to find the energies, investigate if it was the despised dragon and more of his minions, then report back to his sister and father with what he found.

They would decide from there, on how to handle it.

Drizzt had scouted where the energy was concentrated, and found no way inside. However, he trusted his sister's magic, he trusted Vhaeraun's power behind it, and his own tracking skills said people used paths near here. He took up a watchful point, enduring the cold with his hat, gloves, and cloak to protect him alongside the occasional use of cantrips to warm his face and hands.

He at least got to be amused by the family of ermine that decided he wasn't a threat, and from them, he learned he was watching for dwarves. That meant he'd have to be extra cautious, as dwarves were one of the races that Vhaeraun generally disapproved of, though not as much as He did the duergar.

Finally, a group of them came out, a hunting party it looked like, and Drizzt bided his time, letting them tend to business. It would be better to approach them after they had a burden to slow them down, and had used energy hunting.

On their approach back, Drizzt slipped down to wait in the approach so that when they rounded a curve, he was there, cloak shove back, arms crossed over his chest, putting his hands far from his hilts.

That did not stop them from scrambling to drop the pole drags and reach for their own lances, hammers, and axes.

"Peace, dwarves. I come in honest search of answers, and seek only to parlay," he told them in Common. "My name is Drizzt Do'Urden, son of that House in Rilauven," he added. "I wish words with your cleric or leader."

"Ye expect us tae believe ye, sorcerous drow?"

Drizzt stood his ground, still not drawing, not dropping his hands to be ready to do so. "I wish to talk," he said in a gentle voice, but the resolve in his posture was firm.

"We don't 'parlay' with evil ones," the speaker snapped.

"Then go your own way, with your kills, and I will wait. As long as it takes for you to be tired of me up here," Drizzt told him, leaping up suddenly enough that they could not give chase and the one lance someone chucked like a spear fell well short.

Bruenor Battlehammer did not like mysteries, did not like evil races, and did not like threats to his clan. That there was a drow in his lands was all three of those things at once.

Two days after the hunters came back with the tale, he put his full kit on, shoving the helmet into place, and stomping out with axe and shield at the ready. He did not want this to drag on, but also didn't want to endanger his clan.

He went out through one of the hidden doors, and worked to try and get behind the drow's position.

He came face to face with the most gigantic cat in all of existence, lounged in a sunbeam, blinking great golden eyes his way.

"Don't mind Guen," came a voice a bit above them. Bruenor, having been startled by the cat, had never noted the drow perched like a goat on a narrow ledge.

"Ye need tae be leavin' me lands!"

"And I am on a quest to find out why your lands are saturated in the energy of the Shadowfell," the drow said calmly. "That is all I am seeking, good dwarf."

Bruenor scowled, not understanding, not really, but the drow dropped to the ground, and the cat sat up, yawning widely. Those teeth were as massive as the rest of it!

"The talisman I'm using to track the energy is very fixated on you, right now," the drow said. "My name is Drizzt Do'Urden, son of that house in Rilauven, and I truly only need to ask questions about the energy."

"Why would it be fixed on me?" Bruenor asked, wary, but confused by the drow being polite and non-violent.

"I don't know; have you been targeted by a Shadowfell spell?"

"I donnae even ken what a Shadowfell is," Bruenor began, "but there be a curse upon me clan. Mayhaps it is what ye seek? Ye have a plan for dealing with such?"

"Not yet, but if I may talk at length with you, perhaps we can be certain, and I will find a way to aid."

Bruenor brought his shield arm down, then lowered the axe. "Bruenor Battlehammer, an' ye best not be lying."

"As my father and sister are fond of saying, I lie poorly," Drizzt told him with a smile. "Guen, go home."

The cat came to her feet, circled him once, and vanished in a fine black mist.

"Bah, magic!" Bruenor grumped, but he turned to head down to the trade door. "Come on, then, an' let us talk in comfort!"

Settled into a room made for trade negotiations, with water at least shared, Drizzt settled to the business of convincing the dwarf of his words.

"This," and he pulled the dial with its moving arrow out, showing the arrow was fixated on Bruenor, with a faint quiver, "was crafted so I could find concentrations of Shadowfell energy on the surface. My sister had determined the quarry we sought was no longer below the faerzress line, when she first was charged with finding it."

"What be she looking for, and why?" Bruenor asked.

"A shadow dragon, that enslaved our original city for much of her life, and had destroyed another drow city," Drizzt explained. "He was not present when we took the city back, and her god is demanding his death."

"Her god, but not yours?"

Drizzt ducked his head a little. "My nature runs in other directions. I am drawn to the surface, to the ways of the wild areas," he explained when he looked back up. "I hear the call of others, but have not had time to explore that, because I am part of this quest."

Bruenor shook his head. "Seems strange, but good of ye tae put family ahead of yerself."

"Family, always," Drizzt avowed. "It might be that the energy here is not related to the dragon I must find, but why is it here and so steeped on you? That is what I need to learn, and then, if it is unrelated, I will ask nothing more of you."

Bruenor's brow furrowed, and he shook his head slightly. "We've nought tae do wi' magic, but... whate'er drove us from our Hall cursed us, cursed our memories, an' almost all th' elders as escaped wi' us died well afore their time. I was nought but forty-seven, an' there's only four left as were older'n me when we were driven out."

"Only a couple of years older then than I am now," Drizzt said with a sad look his way. "My sister was a very young priestess when the dragon came to our city.

"But what you are saying, goes hand in hand with Shadowfell magic. It is a reflection of the Material Plane, in many ways, but cast in perpetual twilight, with a sense of hopelessness. Or so I was taught."

"Hopeless..." Bruenor murmured, and slowly nodded, "aye, that's how they were. Gave up wantin' tae live, out of our Hall, an' laid down an' died, soon as they'd passed on what they knew as they had tae."

"I am sorry for your losses," Drizzt said clearly, and honestly. Do you have any idea where, even roughly, you were driven from? That might aid me in tracking this down properly."

Bruenor frowned again, heaving out a long sigh. "The first place we remember bein' was Mason's Hole, almost intae th' Lurkwood, but north, still in th' hills. Afore that... nae, we've no idea a'tall. Sits hard, nae knowin' where our home is."

Drizzt started to answer, but something drew his attention to the door.

He looked to see a small — human — child edging around the door to come in quietly.

Bruenor noticed her too, and opened his mouth.

"Da," the child said in the most imploring voice.

"Catti-brie, I have business, and things tae say that aren't fit for a bairn's ears," the dwarf said with a gentle tone.

"If the child needs you, I can go wait outside again," Drizzt said with infinite patience, watching the child fearlessly study him.

"Nae, no need for all that; believe ye have honor." He got up and walked over to the child, hefting her up on his hip. "Catti-brie, me girl, meet Drizzt Do'Urden, come tae ask questions about bad magic."

"Hi."

"Hello, Catti-brie," Drizzt said with warmth. "May I have your father's attention for just a little while longer?"

He noted the posture of the dwarf shifted favorably, and the girl considered thoughtfully.

"Yes. Talk to me at meal?"

"If — "

"Seems ye have an invite to eat with us," Bruenor said in amusement.

"Then yes."

The girl hugged Bruenor, slithered down and raced off, letting the men get back to talking.

"I'll need to get my map out, but I think I my search may be coming close to an end," Drizzt said, moving slowly to get into the pack's bag of holding where he kept his precious copy of the surface map.

Bruenor watched him, but with more interest and less hostility, as Drizzt drew out the map and spread it between them, then shifted a bit to see the labels better. With some squinting and muttering, and careful consideration of the legend, Bruenor finally tapped a place. "Here, or close enow..."

Drizzt nodded grimly, then pointed out the line of hills reaching down from the Spine of the World. "These are called the Frost Hills. And that is close enough to where my city is, the one I was born to and helped free, that I chose to come here first.

"As that is the general area my sister's artifact also says is steeped in the energies of the Shadowfell. It may well be that the dragon, when it left our city, attacked your home. But, it might not be. I cannot say for certain, yet concentration makes me hope so."

Bruenor frowned, deeply, before he slowly nodded. "I'd nae notion we were sae close tae drow as that makes it sound, but yer lot live deep, deep down, aye? Well beyond our mines. I've nae doubt me da an' grandda cursed our home when they died b'hind me, but... might no' have been strong enow tae take down a dragon..."

"It was worshiped as a god," Drizzt said, "which by draconic ways actually makes it a minor one. We chose our strike on the city when it was away, on purpose, intending to use the full city resources after to destroy it.

"Only, from what we heard, as my family had to leave for various reasons, it never came back." Drizzt shrugged. "It had duergar armies — we saw very few of those while we took the city. Dragon-warped drow, shadow-fey, shadow-hounds… we did see more of those, minus the hounds, than we did the duergar."

"Grey ones?! Stinkin' grey ones as might be in me Hall?!" Bruenor had meant to ask about the idea of becoming a god, but that idea had wiped all else away.

"Likely, if this other energy pool is your Hall," Drizzt said. "I will have to take back what I've learned to my sister, and then, if she thinks it correct, I could return here to plan further?" Vhaeraun might not want to deal directly with dwarves, but death curses were not an easy thing to work around.

"Aye," Bruenor said, after he had fumed a little more, "I donnae think me clan can kill a god by ourselves, wi' nae proper cleric o' our own, even wi' yer artifact there tae lead us back. Ye'll be welcome, though I'm nae sure about yer sister..."

Drizzt chuckled. "She is an ends justify the means person, and her ends are to complete the quest her god gave to her," he said. "I don't know what she will suggest, but ridding the Material Plane of that particular dragon outweighs most other things for her.

"And she does not like to be at odds with me, so she tends to not do things that upset me."

"Well, that last at least, I can understand," Bruenor said, nodding slowly, "an' havin' th' same goal is a help, aye."

"We'll find a way," Drizzt told him firmly. He started folding away his map to put it in the bag of holding, content to let it rest at that. He'd take a meal with them, and then begin on his way back down to his entry to the Underdark.

Drizzt made his way up to the temple of Vhaeraun in Rilauven, feeling a bit more certain of the hypothesis he'd formed, as he'd taken the time to judge the distance to that second pool of Shadowfell energy by how strong the artifact reacted between the two places, aligning his memory of the Underdark maps to the Surface one he carried.

That other place was definitely very close to Menzoberranzan.

Not for the first time, he wondered if his mother had done well for herself, what she was actually like, and if it really was as bad there for one like him as his father said. He had no way of knowing, and if his spirit-uncle, Jarlaxle, had said anything about Matron Malice to his father, it had not been relayed to him.

The guards and acolytes he saw on his way carefully did not impede his way; startling him always led to an embarrassing defeat at his hands, and no one really knew how to deal with him outside of Nalatar and Drizzt's own family.

Soon enough, he was at the apartment his sister and father kept, having not yet decided on their own living space, and tapped at the door a specific way to be let in.

The door came open in invisible hands -- Vierna's invisible servant, then, extension of her will -- for him, and he came in to find her stepping out of her private chamber, a welcoming and relieved smile on her lips. "Welcome home, little brother," she said aloud as she came across to him.

He smiled broadly, sliding his pack off in a fluid motion so he could embrace her fully, having truly missed her and their father both.

"I think I've had success, sister!" he told her when she — and he — were willing to part enough to speak properly.

"Oh? No, wait, you just got home. Go enjoy a bath, and I will send a bat to fetch Father from the training grounds. When you climb out, I will conjure us a meal."

There had been an incident, a few months ago, of compulsion-spells placed on some of the kitchen slaves to poison and pollute (everyone assumed by one of the Llothite priestesses across the way), and Vierna was still summoning any meal not taken in the dining hall where there were greater protections.

Drizzt scooped up his pack, went to put everything in his room, then saw to getting that bath, holding onto the good news for now.

Zaknafein turned the rest of the class period over to one of the senior students, admonished them that everyone had better be healthy for the next day's class, and gone home at the summons.

He came in to see Drizzt just coming out of the bath chamber, vividly outlined by the heat of the water he'd enjoyed and only in a pair of loose pants.

"Good thing you're not going out any time soon," he said.

"Know I'm safe in here, and anything attacking would be met with the full weight of the Temple behind it," Drizzt answered, but he grinned and came over to hug his father.

Zaknafein chuckled and hugged his son in tight to him, aware some of the warmth was transferring to him, but Drizzt was not wrong. This was as safe as they could be, behind the Temple's walls and Vierna's personal protections. "I suppose you have a point."

He shifted, holding his son out at arms' length, and appraised him closely. "You don't look as though the Surface did you any harm, at least."

"It doesn't, other than the loss of my levitation," Drizzt answered. "For whatever reason, I am well-suited to forays up there, and I enjoy it. The sun gets a little harsh, but I adapt."

He looked his own father over, giving a nod. "Teaching suits you… or are you doing other work again?" Early on, he and his father had handled a few security concerns against nearby duergar.

"Teaching, mostly," Zak replied with a half-shrug, "nothing outside the city recently."

"Excuse me, the what of your what?" Vierna's voice came from the table, where the scents of good and food now drifted into the air.

Drizzt turned her way, then started over there because food was never to be wasted in his opinion. "Nalatar warned me that prolonged exposure would lead to losing one or more of my abilities. Only the levitation is gone. If anything, my darkness is stronger."

Zak frowned; why hadn't his son mentioned that before going off? Well, that would be the infamous stubborn streak, he decided, making certain Vierna hadn't stopped him. He joined them at the table, quiet offer of gratitude in his head for the food.

He'd made peace with the god that preserved his daughter.

"Then I'm making you a ring to replace it before you go out of this city again," his daughter said, her hands braced on her hips above her hilts as she sat down.

"Has anyone told you that you fuss too much?" Drizzt said mildly, but an impish grin touched his lips, as he reveled in being loved by his sister. He'd observed enough drow in this city, remembered the uneasy alliance in their rebels, to understand the truly deep attachment within their family was unusual.

"It's not as if you could have known which would go in advance, so now we know, your sister fixes it, and we keep moving forward," Zak said, reaching for his food. He wound up smacking at Drizzt's hand for trying to take the same stuffed mushroom he'd wanted, but it, like the comment earlier, was all in play.

Once the meal was done, and they'd settled in the living room, with Drizzt sprawled on the rothe hide spread on the floor, they focused more on business.

"Two major repositories of Shadowfell energy visible to your artifact, Vierna," Drizzt began. "One was in the direction of Menzoberranzan, so I chose to ignore it at first, in case it was the residual effect of his occupation there, seeping upwards.

"I turned to the other one, and wound up having to wait a bit to be able to go, as the Icewind Dale is in the far north, and I had to wait for the passes to melt." He paused and wrinkled his nose. "I do not like the surface drow living in the Neverwinter Woods. They are barely more than brigands, preying on anyone that moves through there with no motive but terror and easy riches."

"You didn't get into a fight with them?" Zak asked, getting a sharp negative.

"I know better."

Vierna wrinkled her nose as well, shaking her head. Brigandry and sowing terror for its own sake and easy profit was no fit testament to what their Lord wished, and such folk vexed her. "Thank you for not," she said, stretching out one bare foot to wriggle it under his side affectionately.

He laughed a little, then got serious. "I found, once I could go up, a dwarven stronghold. These dwarves were displaced from somewhere else — they can't remember exactly where — in about the year that the dragon started being absent from Menzoberranzan regularly.

"And with what they can remember, I think they are from that other energy pool, which puts it in the surface mountains above our former city. When I was coming back, I paid attention to the way the artifact reacted and eventually got to a point that was halfway between the two sources to verify my guess.

"I think we have an ally in unseating and killing the dragon!"

"But dwarves," Zaknafein said, knowing that was going to be a sticking point.

"If the chieftain I met is right, the way in from the surface will be hard to find, and death-cursed on top of it," Drizzt said. "We need them."

Vierna frowned, worrying at her lip, as she turned that problem over in her head several times. "It is useful to know what the dragon may have been up to, but... concerning, that dwarves could be so confused about how to return to their hole. I will have to pray about this, Drizzt, and I do not know what answer I will receive. Tell me more. How did this dwarf treat you? Tell me everything that might sway my Lord to their favor."

"The hunting party did not want to parlay with me," Drizzt said, "though they did apologize later, once I was allowed inside. The chieftain came to meet me himself, geared for a battle, but was willing to speak after a time, with no blows exchanged.

"Granted, Guen was right there, and she does make people pause." He grinned for his protector's presence being so formidable. "He took me in, we spoke at length and said it seems reasonable. They are all fogged over everything before the driving out, and the Shadowfell energy is present even in those born after." He looked at his sister intently. "Blood curse maybe?"

"Most likely," Vierna nodded, "given what you say. I cannot think what else would do such a thing, unless they carried some talisman with them unwittingly... but you would have found that."

"And I did not, during the few days I remained with them," he agreed. "From a tactical point, given where Menzoberranzan sits, in addition to the other cities of svirfneblin and duergar, it seems wise to put a power in place between them and the surface, to delay anything their gods demand which might interfere with Vhaeraun's eventual plans."

Zak blinked, and carefully did not smile at hearing his son think in that manner. It was likely only an excuse to allow him to help this misplaced dwarf clan, but it was sound reasoning.

Vierna, though, did smile at him -- she'd asked him for things that might help her, and he had given the best he had. "I think that is a very good point," she told him, nodding. "Well done, little brother."

Drizzt looked pleased with himself.

"If not, we're just going to have to trust our son to rally an army to get it done on his own," Zak said dryly. "Wouldn't that be interesting?"

Being called 'their' son never failed to make Drizzt happy; Vierna had raised him after all.

"Interesting, perhaps, but I would prefer it otherwise," Vierna said, smiling at Zak.

Oblodra Gloom
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V
* Links will work as parts are revealed

senmut

Besieged by Memories (3896 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
Relationships: Drizzt Do'Urden/Alustriel Silverhand
Characters: Drizzt Do'Urden, Alustriel Silverhand, Bruenor Battlehammer
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Ensemble Cast
Summary:

When Alustriel touched Drizzt on the road that first meeting, neither was ready for the experience.

Besieged by Memories

Drizzt was angry. Her reputation, her demeanor, that compassion in her eyes were all at odds with her actual actions, and he really did wonder why he'd ever held any hope of finding a place on the surface, away from his people.

Maybe his words were petulant, maybe they were sharp. She was in his space, her hand coming up with the palm cupped to touch his face. He could have evaded, but her eyes, her compassion as confusing as it was, held him right there, and her hand touched his skin with a coolness that would have been refreshing --

Happy carefree children playing. Trying to console a younger sister. Lashing out for being taken from all but one. Strained relationships.

An attempted assault that had awakened her magic.

A drive to succeed, to excel. Loves and children, losses, wins, so many places that defied even his traveled experiences --

-- he heard a noise, realized it was his own grief at this wash of memories mingling with a sound from her.

His anger was just and she wished there was any other reason for the fire she would all but see burning in his eyes. His hurt was palpable to her, and she moved before she had considered her actions. Alustriel meant to say more to him as she touched his skin --

A child enduring pain, over and over. Quiet moments with the one that hurt him. Pride in a task done well. Unending pain and exhaustion.

Further exhaustion tinged in pride and satisfaction, joy even. Lost, utter confusion. Betrayal. Painpainpain... Loneliness. Madness. True friendship,

An emptiness and lack of awareness followed swiftly by soul-crushing grief.

More loneliness coupled to wonder and frustration. Slow understanding. Loneliness followed by a new friendship. Several dangers and near death experiences --

-- there was a sound, maybe a threat, and she needed to pull out of the alien places glimpsed in the memories, that love/lack of understanding for one sister, the eventual hate for others except for the father.

Bruenor had known his elf was acting strange, but to come awake to a cry of pain from him and another voice was disconcerting.

Worst was spying his elf with a tall, radiant woman clad in the finest of silk and adorned as a ruler. Regis sitting up and murmuring 'Lady Silverhand' turned his concern to anger, even as Wulfgar stirred on his bedroll.

The woman's hand was cupped on his elf's face, and Drizzt had brought his own hands up to that and her other arm, as if holding on for balance.

"Drizzt," he called gruffly.

With difficulty, or so it looked to the Companions, especially the experienced dwarf that counted one dark elf as friend in the fullest sense of the word, Drizzt managed to pull back, breaking contact with the Lady.

"Peace, Bruenor," he managed to say. "I..." He cut off those words, and Bruenor would have paid three mithral shirts to know what Drizzt had almost said. "The Lady came, to express her reasons for what happened earlier tonight. Perhaps to offer better aid?"

"Yes, of course," Alustriel said, looking fairly flustered for a woman that commanded a whole city, and whose guard had defended her honor so fully.

She looked at Bruenor directly, hand stealing not to Drizzt's but to Drizzt's sleeve, and he allowed it.

What was going on in his elf's head?!

Whatever it was, he wasn't getting answers this night, as Drizzt caught his eyes with an almost pleading look to let it go. With the Lady offering clues and aid, Bruenor let it go... but before she left, he had an ultimatum for her.

"Ye get things straightened out for me elf tae go as he pleases, or there'll be nae trade tae yer town, any more than for those louts as turned us aside for saving their lives!"

Alustriel's eyes snapped, but not at him, and she looked at Drizzt in the next moment. The ranger gave a brief nod to her, some unspoken words between them it seemed like.

"Find your Hall, good chieftain, and come back to my city to rally those you need after. The gates will open to Drizzt, and all of you."

She vanished away in a sparkling light, leaving Drizzt staring after the space she'd been in.

"Drizzt, my teacher?" Wulfgar began.

"Either more rest for us all, or let us move on," Drizzt said. "The ground is easy enough for me to see from here."

"Ye haven't slept yet, so another few hours in this spot," Bruenor countered that nonsense, but he understood enough to know not to ask questions.

Yet.

Alustriel was a flurry of activity from the moment she came out of her rest. She did not need sleep, and using the hours before dawn to sift Drizzt's memories had revealed tasks she could complete to better apologize to him.

She was still shaken by how much her new soul-mate had been through, and left with a staggering impression that it had all happened so recently. She hoped her own life hadn't hammered him as hard, given the much longer span of events.

And, she admitted, far more happy memories in the mix.

To her eldest sons, she bequeathed the quest of learning about a child, a moon-elf, that had survived a drow raid in recent decades, possibly the only one to do so. Drizzt's uncertainty as to where had been easy enough for her to focus harder on details, and those trees grew only in a small region of the North.

To Elminster, and whomever of her sons or sisters he trusted, she gave the responsibility of finding and containing the deadly Crenshinibon. Elminster had actually yelped at her over her shocking revelation that it was buried at Kelvin's Cairn.

Those two tasks turned over to diligent hands, she wrote a letter, politely inviting Jygil Zelnathra to apologize for allowing her Riders to use lies to cause strife in Silverymoon via the merchants they both traded with. Bending the truth over having a witness to events -- she had Drizzt's own memories, and knew any of his friends would also testify -- she pointed out that such actions might lead to a lack of trust from those merchants that came to Nesme via Silverymoon.

With that in hand, she took herself to the Cloister, to sit breakfast with the Ladyservant, and see if Mielikki had opinions on current events.

Per Tathshandra's own rules, they only chatted about the weather and gossip of the city, nothing of consequence, until the breakfast ended. At that point, Alustriel looked at her friend and sighed softly.

"I must ask if your Lady has had opinions of yesterday's events?"

"You could say that," Tathshandra said. "There's been an agitation in the vigils for days now, and it took yesterday for us to determine why. All of us senior clerics received a not-so-gentle reminder that Mielikki accepts anyone of any kind, so long as their hearts belong to the Wilds.

"Yet, I have been here long enough to understand your hands were tied, once we connected that to the rumors of a drow brigand -- "

"Brigand, my foot!" Alustriel could not help but interject. "The Riders lied about how they came to be attacked by the ranger and his friends."

Tathshandra's eyes gleamed. "I knew there had to be more to this than was said. You are certain?"

"As if I saw it for myself," Alustriel avowed. "The Riders were beset, several down already, when the Companions gave aid. When the fighting was done and the Riders noted the skin color of the ranger is when it ran afoul, and even the one supposed attack on them, the arrow shot at the Rider? Was done as a warning for an attempt to do unto them before they were done unto."

"Hmm." Tathshandra, having those words to meditate on, turned inward, and when she received a resounding affirmation of the truth of it, she looked back to Alustriel. "What have you in mind? We can but charge the higher interest rate, revoking the friend of the city discount given to those that accepted the word of the Riders."

"I had in mind a more direct idea." Alustriel handed her the letter, and Tathshandra read it. The Ladyservant smiled with glee at the implications.

"Let me add a letter, in my official capacity, stating they have thirty days to apologize, or all letters of credit will become due for any of their citizens doing business with our treasury. I can then send them by my goshawk, for speedy delivery."

Alustriel nodded, smiling. "I would be grateful."

Tathshandra pulled her writing kit over to begin, but she looked at Alustriel briefly. "Between friends, how did you come to be aware?"

"A brief meeting, with unvarnished truth confirmed by magic."

Wulfgar and Regis were sleeping, and Drizzt knew he should take advantage of the peace of the Herald's Holdfast to do so, but he had a feeling —

— and there was Bruenor, rolling off his cot to come and sit beside him.

"Lad, the other night, with the Lady? Ye need tae talk?"

Drizzt didn't want to, but… he also couldn't understand. Maybe Bruenor could help him?

"I saw her entire life. I can even pinpoint memories, if I focus on them. And I don't know why. But she… she got all of mine, I think. There was no magic she did, as it hit us both in the same moment."

"Och, no wonder ye were shook as bad as all that," Bruenor said softly. "Have a few in the clan as had it happen, not many."

"What is it?"

"It's the mark of a soul-bond. Happens more among long-living folks, but can happen tae any," Bruenor told him. "Guess I'm going tae have tae get used tae the Lady, as none that could be right for you would be all bad."

Drizzt half-smiled. "She was only trying to do right by her people. I… I know that now. I … her memories of that were strongest, newest."

"Memories in their rawest form can't lie, e'en if we teach ourselves tae remember the hard ones differently," Bruenor said. "She still has tae fix it, ye hear?"

"Yes, Bruenor." Drizzt opened his hands from where he'd unconsciously clenched them, braced against that whirlwind of memory in the back of his mind. "I feel terrible for her seeing my life to date."

"Oh, are ye finally admittin' ye had a rough road?" Bruenor teased him. "Lad, if she's meant for ye, she can handle it."

"I hope so. And… this is all for the future. Quest first."

"Aye. Need tae see this through."

Alustriel, having pondered through the memories, but realizing she lacked cultural context, reached out to her dark sister.

~Dearest, if you have a Lolthite noble male willing to come stay with me and educate me on his society, I would appreciate it.~

~That is a very specific request, but I will ask Elkantar if he is willing, or someone he trusts.~ Qilué was very puzzled in her reply, but did not set up a new sending, allowing Alustriel to go and find Korvallen.

He needed to be warned she was preparing space in her life for a new potential partner, especially because of Drizzt's species. She carried her lunch basket with her, going to find her dear friend, and waited for him to extract himself from observing a knight and squire training for tandem fighting.

"Elué?"

"Lunch, your room, so we may talk."

They adjourned upstairs, and she set out the food for them while he cleaned up. The light lunch was mostly for him; she ate a few treats, but was mulling over her words for him as she engaged him on his duties and what things he needed to share.

"Spit it out, whatever you're not saying yet," Kor said at last.

"You know me well, old friend." She covered his free hand with her own. "I have a new soul-bond," she admitted. "And you needed to know."

Kor pinched the bridge of his nose. "Dare I ask how and whom?"

She enjoyed his moment of theatrics, before sitting back in her chair to regard him. "The ranger from the incident with Nesme."

"The drow?!" was all but snarled, with him staring at her in shock and denial both.

"Yes, Korvallen," she said evenly. "And… Kor, I am asking you to give him a chance. I won't share details, but I can tell you he has known more tragedy in a short amount of years than nearly anyone else I can name.

"He's very, very good, a favorite of Mielikki, and as soon as his duty is done to the dwarf chieftain, I mean to have him come stay, if he will, to learn more of who we might be."

"Why in all the abyss did Khalreshaar pick a drow?" Kor muttered as he wrestled his emotions down.

"Quite stubbornly over Drizzt's," and she stressed the name, "misgivings about any divine interactions."

Korvallen studied her, then sighed. "I want Kolarven to meet him. And then I'll decide how I handle him."

"That's all I can ask then."

True to her word, Alustriel had calmed the city.

Drizzt didn't come.

Eventually, she learned why, and worried, the entire time Bruenor was on his path, with that fiery spirited daughter of his, to go aid his friends.

By the time the Companions, minus Regis, were back and had cleared the Hall, she had in mind to invite him directly to her city, and was preparing a letter to send by one of her Knights —

— when word was carried to her that the drow ranger had come to her city on his own, and was taking lodging at the Rusty Blade.

"Did the informant say how the meeting at the gate went?" Alustriel asked the page, a bit nettled that she hadn't been able to make reassurances first, and that he was so close, yet so far.

"Yes, Lady. Wil said the squire was all polite and none of the guards were rude a bit," the page said.

"Thank you."

It seemed she would need a different message, and a different courier… no, a Knight would do, if Kolarven was off duty and willing.

Drizzt was still soaking in a tub in the inn's bath room, having paid for the hot water, when a half-human wood elf in a stylish shirt, a long layered skirt that swished around the ankles, practical boots, and a sword belt entered.

A pair of dangling gemstone earrings were coming off one ear, and a single stone sat on the lobe of the other ear. Drizzt had never, in all his life, seen someone that looked quite like this person.

"You have to be Drizzt Do'Urden," the person said cheerfully. "I am Kolarven, Knight in Silver, though not on duty at present. I'm glad to finally get to meet you."

Kolarven turned a bucket over beside the bath and sat on that while Drizzt tried to understand the idea of a elf-blooded person being glad to meet him.

"I could get out and dressed to make this less informal?" Drizzt managed to find the wit to say.

"And waste a good hot tub? I still see steam; no, you soak. Rangers often don't have such luxury." Kolarven smiled broadly, then hesitated. "Unless… are you bothered? I presumed, you see, that using the public bath instead of asking for one for your room — "

"No," Drizzt said, cutting in. "The idea of private baths is still an odd one for me."

Kolarven laughed at that. "Oh, so our dark kin kept that custom, at least for some? Good to learn that."

Drizzt wound up smiling in response to that glib reply. "Well, if you bathe alone, there's no witnesses if someone tries to strike, hmm?"

Kolarven winced. "Ahh, yes, practical side. No fewer than three, I bet?"

Drizzt nodded. "Five is better," he added. "And I think I am pleased, if startled, to meet you."

"Don't be. I'm just glad Alustriel asked me to be the one to come bring her message."

Drizzt blinked. First name usage for a leader didn't startle him too much; Bruenor was called by his name as often by his title, sometimes more depending on who and why it was needed. But … she already knew he was here and sent a message?

What if it was negative?

"Well, I am honored a message would find me so soon after arriving in the city." He reached for the scrubbing stick to get at his back, focusing on getting clean rather than all the doubts in his head.

"She said you are more than welcome to come with me to the palace, to choose a suite there — and on a side note, the baths in those suites are wonderful — and enjoy the use of the library there."

Oh. Drizzt's memory of joy for the books that Montolio had shared with him must have guided that offer, but still, he should be careful not to abuse such privilege.

"If I were to ask you as a person, maybe even as an elf specifically, if I should accept that offer, would you advise me?" he asked seriously. "The very last thing I wish is to cause even a perception of wrongness to the people she protects, and the allies she requires."

Kolarven rolled their eyes and then shook his head. "Nesme had to issue a full apology. The Ladyservant — she's the head of Mielikki's church here — was going to revoke every single letter of credit if they did not, for offending the Forest Queen."

Drizzt stopped scrubbing and just stared at the Knight. "Why? How? I am so confused."

Kolarven stared back. "You… alright then, let's leave it at the ways of the Named Ones being strange. But I urge you to accept, if only so I can wheedle you into showing me your blade-work. I've heard tales from those that went to aid in the Hall, and you sound like a master of swords!"

"I am good," Drizzt agreed, "but I feel I can improve. My father was faster, had more maneuvers than I have yet learned."

Kolarven grinned. "Oh, you are going to be fun to get to know! You will come?"

"Tomorrow," Drizzt said, after a moment to think. "I would prefer my dealings with the staff there start after a rest and other things."

"Then come to the Knight's wing, ask for me, and I will see to everything!" Kolarven then gave the best directions to come directly to their entrance, before taking their leave.

Drizzt looked up at the knock on his door, having just truly settled into the entirely too generous suite about mid-day. He'd gone to the Sacred Glade for vigil, then been invited to breakfast with the clerics at the cloister, been interviewed by the Ladyservant herself, and met someone who actually knew Montolio when he was young.

He rose and went to the door, expecting Kolarven —

— and opened it to find Alustriel herself, in her morning dress and robes of court. It made her only slightly less regal in appearance than the night on the road, and Drizzt realized he was holding his breath as he appreciated the radiant waves of goodness that seemed to roll off of her.

"Come in," he said as he made himself move back.

"I hope you've had a good stay so far," Alustriel said, following him to sit on the divan with him after he had closed the door. "I was going to send you an invitation to visit, was actually ready to write it, when they told me you were here."

Drizzt ducked his head. "Bruenor has more work to do that does not need me, Catti-brie is occupied with helping there, Wulfgar is settling his own people who have no love for me," he said. "I decided, given the aid you gave my friends, to risk seeing if I was allowed in yet."

Alustriel nodded at that, before tipping her head. "If, by chance, I had not managed to set matters right, what would you have done?"

"Explored," he said swiftly. "Mapped out possible dangers to the Hall. Found the differences in the lands here versus those I have traveled before."

She rested her hand on his, nodding to all of that. "I am relieved that it was resolved.

"And now I have two pieces of meddling to share with you, that I have seen dealt with since our first meeting."

He turned his hand under hers, to lay them palm to palm, and found that more electric than any contact with another speaking being he'd ever known. He did look at her face, eyebrow arching.

"The child you protected was found," Alustriel began, almost flinching for opening that raw wound. "She… needed care, for her mind. That is now being provided by the elven cleric you likely saw in my memories so often."

"Scharick?" Drizzt asked, uncertain, but trying to filter the memory of names called.

"Charic, yes," Alustriel told him. "She will see Ellifain — the girl's name — to a better way of looking at life around her. One of my sons and his consort have been helping."

He had to close his eyes, just soaking in the knowledge that the child he'd protected, that had cost him his father, lived and would be well in time.

After several moments he opened them, and inclined his head deeply. "Thank you for that. The second though?"

This got a grimace from Alustriel. "That vile abomination that is called Crenshinibon is safely locked away under the protection of the oldest, strongest wizard in the realms. I promise you that it can offer Elminster nothing he hasn't already had or decided was a waste of his time."

Drizzt snorted. "Even I have heard that name. The Wandering Wizard, Eternal Meddler, and a few other less flattering things are said around campfires on the trade roads."

Alustriel laughed softly. "I should get you to write them all down, and see if he's heard them all. It would amuse him." She squeezed his hand. "It will take more time to deal with the balor — really, Drizzt, you must learn to tell small lies!"

"I was tired!" Drizzt defended himself, but he smiled as he said it. "I have most of a century to prepare for that; don't fret over it."

"With any luck at all, Drizzt, I hope to very much be a part of your life in that time," she told him softly. "What I have seen through you tells me quite strongly that the soul magic landed correctly, that you are one that I wish to hold close in my life."

He drew in a deep breath, and nodded, not trusting his voice yet. He held tight to her hand though, and let those words settle, soothing his aching need to belong with a person and a place at a deeper level than even Icewind Dale had given him.

"All I am, Alustriel Silverhand, is in your keeping, as long as you wish me here," he finally said, decision made. She studied him gravely, then drew his hand to her lips, kissing it lightly.

"We will learn how to keep each other safe, and whole, then," she agreed.

senmut

Full Phase Met (1,663 words) by

ilyena_sylph &

senmut
Fandom: Forgotten Realms/Legend of Drizzt
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Warnings Apply
Characters: Vierna Do'Urden, Philomena (Canon-Inspired OC), Drizzt Do'Urden, Ensemble Cast
Additional Tags: Canon Divergence, Female Friendship, Background Relationships
Series: Part 9 of Sisters in Spirit
Summary:

The Hall regained, futures growing

Full Phase Met

No one had been able to pry Drizzt out of the lower part of the Hall until he found the gate the dragon had kept. His growing silence, the scowl on his face, all warned Bruenor his friend was more injured in spirit than body, but then again, Drizzt's nature was just that stubborn, to keep pushing past the realm of exhaustion.

However, once a tall, silver-haired woman had come and dealt with the gate, Bruenor could win the battle of wills, and he ordered Drizzt to go find one of their allies for healing.

When Drizzt emerged outside, with the sun beating down, making him actively flinch, Thyl happened to be looking that way. He'd been told this was Vierna's brother, and while they had some of her clerics here, under glamour rings, he felt a duty to get this taken care of quickly.

No drow was meant to be ash-gray.

"Here, Drizzt," Thyl called, as he whistled for Steelheart -- he was out of magic, despite Mom's spellstar -- but she wouldn't mind the short flight to Spirit Sanctuary. "You look terrible. Let's get you to your sister, mm?"

Drizzt looked at the half-human, considered saying he should see who he could help in the camp of wounded, swayed, and gave in.

"If your friend does not mind," he said, still in awe that all of the pegasi had come to investigate him when they had staged for the invasion.

"She won't," Thyl replied, certain of it as Steelheart touched down a few feet away. "You don't mind taking us over to the other peak, right, lovely?"

Steelheart snorted and swished her tail, before turning her head to get a better look at Drizzt and making a worried nicker.

He brought a hand up and petted along her neck, before waiting for Thyl to mount. He concentrated hard -- that was not easy -- and got himself up without hurting the beautiful being that she was.

"Thank you, both of you."

"You're welcome," Thyl said, as Steelheart turned her head around to stretch past Thyl's leg and nose Drizzt for a moment. He shook his head a little at that, before Steelheart straightened back up and launched into the air, her wings beating hard as she headed north around the mountain, leaving the busy camp behind and soon out of sight.

Drizzt wound up leaning against Thyl's back, as fatigue -- and worse -- sapped at him once he was no longer moving on his own.

:Your brother comes,: Eilistraee, so glad to feel this goodly ranger within Her song now, sent to Vierna so she would get free.

Vierna freed herself from her work of the moment and headed out onto the ledge, looking to see from which way -- and blinked as she saw Thyl and Steelheart, with Drizzt behind her friend on the pegasus. Even from so far away, her brother looked terrible and she worried the entire time until Steelheart landed barely more than a wingspan away. "What happened?" she demanded even as she came to make sure he didn't fall as he slid off Steelheart.

"He only just came out of the mountain," Thyl said. The invasion had taken place two days before, Vierna knew.

"Had to find the dragon's gate and be certain it was sealed," Drizzt managed to say.

"Which means he was probably away from light," Thyl added. "And the clerics haven't actually had time to deal with the shades, given how many injured we had."

"Oh for the Moon's sake!" Vierna exclaimed in exasperation, shaking her head at her brother even as she got his arm up over her shoulders to help bring him along. Where... unlike all of the other drow, her brother would need sunlight and moonlight, so that let out all of the deeper chambers, but -- ah. That would work.

"Bit of a walk, but there's a summer workroom that's windowed by a wall of force. Mostly for sewing and weaving, or writing. Has a couch at the moment, but we'll move a bed in once I've done some work -- though you may have done yourself permanent damage, if you rested before you came here," she fussed, worried. The damage shades could do, that creeping cold drain of strength and vitality.... it needed to be treated promptly, and two days was too long. No wonder he looked so awful. "Thyl, you look almost as bad as he does, but are you up to brewing him a vitality draught? You know where everything is, get Ellie to help you if you need it."

"I can do that, Vierna," Thyl promised her, setting off to get it started.

"Haven't slept since it started," Drizzt admitted. "I don't remember if the shades came close enough. The pool of the dragon's evil was just so thick in the lower levels, sister. It hurt as bad as graduation, and I had to be in it longer."

Vierna blinked at him as they moved, trying to make sense of that... and then she hissed under her breath. "You can sense evil, as though you have the spell? No wonder you look so terrible, even without having been awake for... three, five days? You're going to turn my hair black," she muttered, as she opened the door to the long, bright room and helped him to the couch. A few moments of removing all the gear he no longer needed, and she had him lying down so she could set to work on repairing the damage he'd done to himself.

"It's not usually this bad. I rarely stay in it, usually just long enough to kill or destroy the source. Even that damned crystal wasn't this bad, or the balor," he muttered. "First time being steeped in it a while, since leaving the mind flayer city."

"...those are entirely too many terrible stories I haven't heard," Vierna said, deliberately calmly, "but we'll have time for that. Shush a moment and let me concentrate, though."

Drizzt closed his mouth, and then his eyes, because while the light was his promise that he was free, right now it hurt.

He did not let himself sleep, worried by his sister's words, and paid attention to her presence instead. It was cool, calming, and gentle on all of his frayed nerves.

Vierna quietly sang her way through healing prayers, finding quickly-bandaged wounds and dealing with them, before turning her attention to the abuses he'd heaped on his body, the buildups of fatigue chemicals and toxins -- and stimulants -- that needed to be wiped from his system. It was easier on the patient to do this small spell by small spell, sacrificing her other spells to it, rather than start with her most powerful spells and force divine energy through a body not accustomed to it.

Drizzt found the healing to be soothing, and he relaxed, bit by bit, his control against sleep slipping away as she made his body whole and well once more.

Vierna found her spells, brought by Eilistraee, bolstered, as the amulet he wore warmed to further soothe him, and knew his goddess was also paying attention to the abuses he'd heaped on himself.

Eventually, he was asleep, but the damage was under control, and she didn't think he had done harm to himself that would last. She'd make him wake for Thyl's potion, but for now, Drizzt was as strong as she could make him, and sleeping safely where she could watch over him.

Mid-Winter

Mena came and pressed a very cold hug to her sworn-sister, laughing at the faint yelp as the cold went through Vierna's robes.

"I came straight to you from outside," Mena said with a grin. "So, it seems there's a romance brewing in Silverymoon. Drizzt says hello, he misses you, but he's learning a lot."

"I miss him too," Vierna replied, "but what do you mean, a romance?"

Mena started piling her travel cloak and pack by the door to carry to her room later. "Your brother." She smiled impishly. "I don't think he really knows how to navigate it, but he's fallen so hard."

"For who?" Vierna demanded, more than a little worried, her eyes narrowing at her heart-sister's obvious amusement.

Mena came and took her hands, squeezing. "Someone who knows very well how difficult this could be for him. Mother, and she is just as struck by him, if I am reading it all correctly."

Vierna squeezed back, but she also just stared at her oldest friend in utter confusion. "I... your mother?! Of all the people I could have imagined you might say, she was nowhere on my list!"

"I think they've been mutually struck since their first meeting," Mena told her. "But it is a slow-moving thing, and I'm only really seeing it because I see them away from everyone else."

Vierna nodded slowly, and considered this idea. He was certainly experienced -- in the travel and encounters sense -- enough to make his own choices without her fussing... but oh, she was glad it was Mena's mother. Alustriel was wise, kind, and good to a level that Vierna could be certain that even if it went badly, the archmage would do her best not to hurt her brother. "Well... how very surprising, indeed."

"I think it's wonderful. She's stayed a little distant from most people since Papa died, and he's a very gentle person, who follows all our ideals." Mena grinned. "He won my Uncle Korvallen over, Spellguard Niska has pretty much adopted him, and he's very popular with the pages."

"Really? Come tell me all about how he's doing," Vierna encouraged, pulling her sworn-sister along with her to sit for a bit.

Mena went happily, and started filling her in on all she had learned in Silverymoon. Their family was tied together, all because she'd been curious about the drow so long ago.

senmut

Night's Light Shining Bright (4,772 words) by

ilyena_sylph &

senmut
Fandom: Forgotten Realms/Legend of Drizzt
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Warnings Apply
Characters: Bruenor Battlhammer, Wulfgar son of Beornegar, Regis, Catti-brie Battlehammer, Drizzt Do'Urden, Vierna Do'Urden, Ensemble Cast
Additional Tags: Canon Divergence, Reunions
Series: Part 7 of Sisters in Spirit
Summary:

The party divides, and a family reunites

heading goes here

The group of dwarves had clustered around Bruenor, as Dhaeln's memories had unlocked inside the Hall, and he had them more strongly. Wulfgar and Regis sat on the edge of that group, with Catti-brie torn between their sides... and her ranger's, who had come out and immediately found the nearest tree to put his back to, slumping there.

They'd had a brush with shades, and found horrors, but the weight of that much evil had been hardest on him in many ways.

"Cleric," Drizzt called softly. "I am translating the duergar words as 'dragon-god' and 'Shimmergloom', to go with the scale we found. Do your people have any resources to research this?

"Whatever the Shimmergloom is, its evil is like a miasma at the lowest point we explored."

"Not at our home," Ravenna said, "but the larger community further south should. I will send to a friend there after I rest, to learn what they know. A deep dragon or a shadow dragon seem most likely to me, though."

Regis shuddered again, still bothered by the shades that had swarmed them. A dragon was more than a little beyond what he wanted to deal with, no matter that Wulfgar and Drizzt had killed Icingdeath.

"I agree, and lean to the shadow type, for the shades that roved the corridors," Drizzt told her. "Rest, priestess; I intend to call Guen now it has been a day and some from her last advent, so she can guard us."

He suited action to words, and the cat soon appeared, making a low noise at how worn her drow felt.

"Keep us safe, so we may rest, my friend?"

She flicked her ears in 'of course' and sprang up into the tree above him to find her vantage point.

Ravenna nodded and stretched out more comfortably, soon sound asleep with her own people and the great cat there.

Bruenor studied the woman who'd so willingly gone to sleep with them all around her, thought of her healing and the work she'd done in his Hall... and decided he might just like her.

"Wulfgar?" Drizzt called to him next.

"Sleep, my friend. I know that place weighed upon you greatly," Wulfgar said, rising to go and find his own better vantage. He felt a deep pride that Drizzt would entrust him with the safety of their party. Between himself and Guen, they would be undisturbed.

Dhaeln looked as the ranger settled in with his cloak over his eyes, and then back to Bruenor. "Good lot ye've found, me king."

"Aye," Bruenor agreed gruffly, "that they do be." He was tired, too, and worn down with horror and grief, but —

He switched into dwarven and said, "Tell me about these folk ye live with. Nae secrets, but. She said something about us being neighbors."

Dhaeln snorted. "We'll be allies, me King, with them. Up on Third Peak, cut deep into a cliff, there's a whole village of the dark elves, and them as they've helped that didnae want tae leave," she began. "Established up there my lifetime and a bit a'fore that.

"When the Hall fell, was some of their scouts found us a'fore we'd crossed the river. Took us up, and saw tae havin' us healed. Lost Old Rook tae his injuries, but the priestess as was helpin' him was beside herself with grief for it. Made me think as if we'd found good people. Bhaestaem and Ezrigith agreed, come the spring, and we stayed on, though tracks had been found crossin' into the Moon Wood."

"Lost the pair of them o'er the years," Halan took up then. "But we kept on, us and Micken who came out in a sack. Took up their smithin' needs, helped them see when tae brace, where tae cut. And Micken, he's in charge of all the stores."

Bruenor considered that for a few moments and nodded, accepting all of that. "Well, then. Good enow. I'm fer some sleep, Dhaeln, ye ought tae rest as well."

"We went in fresher than ye, but aye. That lad of yours can wake me for next watch," Dhaeln said.

"Drizzt will take it. He can't sleep more than a couple of hours," Catti-brie told her. "So sleep yerself out."

Drizzt noted Bruenor was awake, and slipped over, silent as anything, to sit beside him.

"What now? You found it. There is a terrible evil inside, you have new members of your clan, and there is enough time to reach Icewind Dale, possibly even get them moving before the passes close, if Catti is right and they were already packing.

"Is that our next step? How do we see to getting the allies you will need? Not just dwarves to deal with the duergar we saw, but the dragon itself?"

"Why are ye always full o' the hard questions?" Bruenor muttered at him. "Aye, needin' tae be rousting the clan, but thinkin' me girl could stand with Dhaeln as me voice here, while I get them. Have Wulfgar go back with me, but leave Regis here with her." He then looked at Drizzt. "I'll nae have ye trekking back that way, when people o' yer own kind are right here.

"Ye stay, meet with them, then keep an eye on me girl with me clan down this way, aye?"

Drizzt's heart hammered. He would go where he was most needed, but that… made sense.

"Steer clear of Luskan," Drizzt said, instead of addressing the emotions swelling in him. "And don't pay too close attention to the cairn's burial spot for the crystal. I will seek aid in dealing with it, once I have a feel for these drow."

"Mind your steps along those lines, but aye. Mayhap check to see if we've a tunnel that goes near enough, fetch the thing out in a chest, but like as not we cannae," Bruenor agreed. "We'll sort out if Dhaeln or one o' her two wishes tae come with us, and if they'll allow for Catti-brie and Regis tae go with ye up their way."

Drizzt nodded at that, before watching their friends — old and new — who were still asleep.

The division of the party happened in accordance with Bruenor's wishes, with Dhaeln sending both Micken and Halan to back up the chieftain and barbarian. That left her to take Ravenna, Drizzt, Catti-brie, and Regis to their home once the other four moved out.

"Ye have tae understand, seein' where we live and bein' let tae remember is a large amount of trust bein' given," Dhaeln told them. "Any of ye thinkin' yer at risk for others tae take the knowin' from ye? Say it now, and we'll put ye at a safe place tae wait for yer kin and friends tae come back this way."

Drizzt surveyed Regis and Catti alike. "If you wish to go with me, as I must see this place, but you need to not remember the way, I know there are ways to do that." He looked at Ravenna for confirmation.

"We have a memory draught, crafted to replace the time there with a memory of a long rest and good food in a safe place," she agreed.

Catti-brie stood there and considered for a few moments. "I donnae ken anything about magic," she said bluntly, "so I donnae think I c'n judge. But if we're tae be allies, we'll need tae know where ye be, aye?"

"I've never managed to manipulate you with the ruby, Catti," Regis said, "your mind is pretty strong. Mine isn't. I want to go and see, but I'll take the draught when we leave. Or... Drizzt, Guen could take us into her plane, and you could bring us back once we're there? Then do the same when we want to leave, so I wouldn't have to forget?"

"Guen would do that." He looked at Ravenna. "Will that be sufficient, to get them inside without them knowing the path?"

"More than." She was amazed by the solidarity she sensed in them all, the bonds that had formed with this young ranger who had been too cut off from them. "When we are closer, I will tell you it is time," she added.

"Catti?" Drizzt asked, to see if she accepted that. "Guen would love to show you her home, I am certain."

Catti nodded. "Aye, that'll do. Mayhap yer folk can help me figure if it's safe for all of ye for me tae know th' way, once we're there."

"Sounds good, aye," Dhaeln said, pushing off to start the way back. "Were it solely tae me, there'd be no need, but Spirit Sanctuary is awful needed, for those like yer friend, and others. The lowlanders, they wouldnae understand."

The first scout to spot them whistled back with 'visitors coming', then gaped as a large panther appeared, and vanished again with two of them, leaving Dhaeln, Ravenna, and the stranger that was drow. Ravenna being with them was the only reason the scout did not add a warning call.

Ravenna had heard the whistle, and looked for her sib, wondering who it was this day, even as she chuckled. "Well, now they know we're coming," she told Drizzt cheerfully, "and no doubt your Guen gave our scout quite a shock."

He smiled. "She seemed very happy to get to take them. It saved Regis's life, the first time she did it."

He glanced around, and made out the very carefully concealed scout. "I admit, when I saw drow markings in the Moon Wood, I feared what it meant."

"Use the blazes, not with magic, tae keep us from wanderin' intae the elves," Dhaeln said. "But if you dinnae know about us, that would be concerning."

"I, too, would have been concerned," Ravenna admitted with a slight smile, "thinking them guides towards raids. But any drow new enough to the surface to be on a raid would not note them, as their eyes would hardly even note the difference."

"I can see that now," Drizzt said. "And I learned in school that not all males are literate, outside of certain symbols."

"Why?" Dhaeln asked.

"I don't know for certain, but I believe it is to keep written records from being passed between the men to incite revolt?" Drizzt offered, looking to Ravenna for her thoughts.

"I find that likely," Ravenna agreed, "though I'm not sure, it seems reasonable. If the Masked God's followers could slip texts into the commoners, or even the males of the Houses..." She nodded. "It would make things more difficult."

"What is this Masked God?" Drizzt asked. "I ... Lloth is the only deity, by my teachings. I know She lies. I know the gods of other peoples are real. I am fortunate to have the alliance of one, after all. But... how much of what I know about drow themselves is a lie?"

Ravenna's breath hissed in between her teeth, and she raked her fingers through her hair. "Goddess bless, which of the cities are you from?! There aren't that many that She's managed to force that lie over -- sorry. Poor form to answer a question with one of my own.

"Vhaeraun, the Masked God, is my lady Eilistraee's twin brother. As rebellious against their mother now as Eilistraee is, though at first He followed the Spider-bitch in Her attempt to destroy the king of the elven gods and take His throne for Her own, and still has much of that rebellious and malicious nature."

Drizzt wrinkled his nose to hear that. "I am from Menzoberranzan," he said. "They said in school that sometimes She would take drow form and walk there." His eyes glinted. "Would that I'd ever seen such, with the skill I have now."

Dhaeln chuckled. "Donnae go biting off such large chunks, lad. But the sentiment is a good one."

Ravenna stopped dead. "You're from Menzoberranzan," she finally managed to say, shaking her head a little, "and with your name... Have you ever heard the name 'Vierna Do'Urden'?"

Drizzt's entire posture tensed before he could guard himself. "Once. From the man I know to be my father, and I was told never to say it around the Matron or elder sister of the House," he told her. "She was a daughter stolen from the House long before any of us younger three were born."

"I suppose a Matron might call it stolen," Ravenna replied with a soft chuckle, smiling, "but we would say rescued. She is First Sister -- our leader -- of our community. We thought it had only to be coincidence, that you must be from another city that had a long-sundered branch of the family, because for two of a single house to escape that city is almost beyond belief. But then you said you were from Menzoberranzan. Oh, you are going to be so very welcome, cousin!"

Drizzt stared at her, stunned beyond all belief, and wished, for the moment, Catti-brie was still at his side. Family? Good like him? A leader of this place?

"I knew father was not like other drow, but to learn of a sister that way... likely his daughter for how poorly he managed his emotions about her... this feels impossible."

Dhaeln laughed. "Ye brought me king -- me friend, who I've thought was dead since we were wee -- back tae me, ranger, an' we've set foot again in our Hall, which we've nae seen for two hundred years. 'Tis a week fer impossible things."

That helped ease the shock, and Drizzt wound up smiling. "Now I am most eager to meet your leader, Cleric, and learn more of this improbable, if not impossible, series of events!"

Ravenna smiled at him in delight and nodded. "Indeed, come on," she said brightly and picked up her pace to make her way to the hidden entrance to the village, looking over her shoulder with a smile before she slid through the rock and waited on the other side.

Dhaeln waited, giving a motion for Drizzt to go on, and he did, holding his breath at first. When he emerged on a broad ledge, with cleverly concealed openings into the cliff, he smiled brightly. Dhaeln came behind him, and gestured broadly.

"Home, for the last couple o' centuries. We've put a bit in the working, tae keep it all hidden from those that fly."
"It is... exceptionally well-done," he praised.

"We think so," Ravenna agreed, and called out to one of the goblin children to go tell the cook they would have three guests for dinner, drow, human, and halfling. The child hopped up and ran to do so with a laugh... the orc and drow child he had been playing with abandoning the game to follow.

"This way, I know where Vierna will be, and I think you would rather have such a reunion more privately," she added, and made her way into one of the openings and down the passage to their First Sister's working space. "Vierna," she called, "we're here, I'm coming in."

Vierna had made herself keep to her tasks rather than go running out, but she put everything away and stood up to come around her desk at the words. "All right," she called back, and waited.

Drow, orc, and goblin, playing together, seeming happy even as they were given work to do -- Drizzt had no idea what to make of it. He wanted to bring his friends back right then, but... he also did not want to burden them with his emotions of this reunion.

They could wait a bit; it had not been so long that they would be in any danger.

He followed along, even as Dhaeln turned off to go handle her part of telling Micken's and Halan's partners those two would be gone.

Ravenna opened the door and came through, standing with her back against it with it fully open to let Drizzt in.

Vierna looked from her friend to the stranger -- and her heart nearly stopped, because the young drow standing there looked so much like her mother in a masculine guise, and wore two blades with such easy confidence that she had no doubt, suddenly, about his parentage, or his relationship to her. Her hands signed greeting in the House's language, a gesture she had almost forgotten, as she tried to convince her throat and mouth to work.

That motion, her face so like his own, and her genuine emotions on seeing him did much to convince him. "Hello, sister," he signed back, hands out of practice with the drow subtleties after so long with dwarves, but it was intelligible. "I am amazed to meet you, Vierna Do'Urden, of whom I only had a few hushed words from the Weapon Master," he said aloud, in Common.

"Zaknafein spoke of me?" Vierna asked, surprised, even as she came closer, stretching out her hands to him. "I -- I couldn't believe you could really be family, when I heard your name, it...."

"Is improbable, yes," he said, taking her hands gladly. "And he spoke of you because I'd tried a maneuver you had also used once. One he conceded would work against a less-experienced fighter.

"I think the similarity of trying made him feel strong emotions." He squeezed gently. "But he said I must never speak of you in Mother's hearing, or Briza's."

"He was no doubt right in that," Vierna said, as she squeezed his hands in return, still amazed, shaking her head a little in amazement and surprise. "I... he was the one point of good in the entire House for me, though Nalfein could be kind at times. If it suited him."

"I... would not know that," Drizzt said. "I am third-born, of Malice's sons, spared because Dinin killed Nalfein the night I was born," he told her. "A fact I did not learn until an argument with Dinin while I was in school."

Vierna hissed in a breath, shaking her head. "I am sorry to hear it... but given that you are standing here now, I am very glad that you lived."

He smiled for her words, then sobered. "Perhaps, if you have fondness for Zaknafein, you should not be," he cautioned, "as my actions directly led to first his death, and then the loss of his body."

There was grief stamped in every line of his body, in the forced attempt at a calm delivery of the words.

Vierna looked to Ravenna, who nodded and slipped out, shutting the door behind her. Then Vierna tugged at his hand and said softly, "Come and sit, Drizzt."

She had a fine leather couch, thickly stuffed, off to the side of the room, and she moved that way with him. Once they were both sitting, with her turned towards him, she said just as gently, "If you will, tell me? I will hold no grudge, I promise you, unless you yourself slew him in cold blood -- but you grieve too much for that to be true."

He settled, then dropped his eyes for a long moment at her words. He did feel some guilt, but knew that it truly lay on their mother, on the goddess that drove their birth city to such violence.

"I brought disfavor down on the House, due to actions I chose. Briza or Mother must have determined it was I who had done it, heard my confession to Fa -- Zaknafein, possibly. I had left, to clear my head and plan for how to get both of us free. In my absence, they sacrificed him in my place. Maya, our other sister, taunted that he chose it in my place."

"Ah, goddess," Vierna breathed out, grief ripping through her that their father had suffered such a fate. "No... call him father, he deserves that," she said softly, "far more than our mother deserves that name."

She sat considering for a little while, before she reached over and laid her hand on his. "I believe he would have," she said quietly, "to protect his son... as he must have thought he had failed to protect his daughter. Whatever you did that Lloth disapproved of, I have no doubt it was something praiseworthy."

"Drow don't have fathers. They have rumors of sires," Drizzt said dryly, but it was with a biting edge to it. "I should have realized much sooner. Briza let it slip, and he confirmed it, the night I lost him," he told his sister. "Only, after I'd been gone from there for ten full years, they sent a hunter after me, after I'd bested Briza and Dinin -- he's the brother I mentioned between me and Nalfein -- when they tried.

"The hunter wore the body of my -- our? -- father. But it was driven by Mo -- Malice's spirit, until nearly the very end of it."

Vierna shuddered in revulsion and dismay, tightening her hand on his. "That... that is abominable. I have never heard of such a spell -- but I never went to Arach-Tinilith, so that is no surprise. I would have been beyond terrified, to have such a thing seeking me, if it had his skill and her hate combined."

"I hurt, to see it," he admitted. "And wanted, desperately to save him. But he was not really alive again, nor truly undead. She could not beat me, and I used our training to push enough of the control to him that he could make a choice.

"He told me to flee the Underdark, that he was at peace, and then he made use of the acid lake we were fighting near, to deny her his body for all time," Drizzt summarized, but the pain in his voice and eyes told Vierna he had not, ever, grieved in truth.

"...at peace?" Vierna murmured, marveling -- but she could think on that later. Right now, she had a soul-wounded little brother to comfort, if he would accept it. "That action is very much our father," she said, as she kept hold of his hands. "But by the moon, it must have been horrific for you, little brother. I... I had so little time with him. But you were a fighter, he would have had you to train for years. I grieve for him," she admitted, tears she wasn't trying to fight beginning to streak down her face, "but it must have been so much worse, for you."

He met her eyes then, and seeing her tears, he closed his own eyes, holding on so tightly to her hands. "Four wonderful years. He shaped me to be his heir, exactly what Matron Malice wanted, but I was too different. More even than he was. He could learn to hate all drow, even himself. I... hate what they are made into, but wish so much that it was different for them all."

"You were like me," Vierna said, and slid closer to him, leaning her shoulder in against him. "So much like me. ...let yourself grieve, Drizzt. I'm with you."

He hesitated, but she was offering as freely as Catti-brie would, and he closed the gap, letting himself breathe through the pain of reopening that wound, his tears coming with the freedom to grieve with someone who had actually known Zaknafein.

It took a long while before he could pull himself together, having been granted that permission to finally lance the grief.

"I ... thank you, Vierna, for helping me go through that. I am sorry to carry such ill news. I wish I'd just told him to come, right then, when we had truth."

She had just held him against her and swayed a little bit, letting him weep -- her own tears soaking into his hair as she mourned the loss of her father all over again, now knowing he was dead, not just lost to her -- until he calmed, and then she let him slide away if that was his wish.

"You are more than welcome, my brother," she told him, lifting her hand to first brush away her own tears, then -- more gently -- the last of his. "Wishing," she said wryly, "unless one is an archmage, gets one very little. And yet we can't help it. Is that what makes us sentient, I wonder, the longing to change things?"

"Perhaps," Drizzt said, even as his heart thrilled to hear her voice a philosophical point. How many such questions had he asked of himself, or his friends, when they indulged him. "Oh!" He did shift away, finding the figure. "Now that I have met you properly, I really should bring my friends back from the Astral Plane.

"It was our compromise to guard the secret of this place. And it would not be good to try and do it in here. I stand surety for both Catti-brie Battlehammer, daughter of their chieftain -- well, king now -- and Regis the Halfling. As I have known them for years to be goodly people, even if Regis came from far different beginnings on that road."

"How in the names of all the gods are they in the astral plane?!" Vierna asked, even as she stood up. "No, my working-room is not really large enough for two more people," she agreed, "besides, I keep things rather darker than my dwarven friends prefer, and I assume a halfling would have much the same preference?"

"And Catti is human, though dwarf-raised," Drizzt agreed. "As to how, my Companion is an Astral Panther, bound to this statue, but very much her own entity, not a magical construct."

He stood, following her to somewhere to be able to call his friends to the Material Plane.

"How fascinating," Vierna said as she led him back out onto the main ledge, with its incredible view over the valley between their mountain and Fourthpeak, turning to watch curiously.

Drizzt held the figure, crouching down out of habit, and called, "Guenhwyvar, my shadow, come to me with our friends."

The familiar mist formed, and then Guen was there, Catti-brie on one side, and Regis the other. Regis beamed at Drizzt, then turned, as Catti was, to see who was with them.

"Catti-brie Battlehammer, Regis; meet my sister, daughter of my father, Vierna Do'Urden."

Vierna smiled at them both, saying, "Welcome to Spirit Sanctuary, oh friends of my brother."

Regis looked at her, then at Drizzt, and said, "I think I could have guessed that, from looking at both of you, but... how?"

"It seems our father sired goodness," Drizzt said brightly, smiling to indicate he was at peace with this.

"Greetings, Lady," Catti-brie said. "And greetings from me Da, Bruenor Battlehammer, who charged me tae be makin' allies for our clan."

"It will be good to have an ally in these mountains," Vierna replied, smiling at the young woman, "though I am no Lady. I am First Sister here, but only because my folk continue to tell me they prefer me to lead. Priestess, cleric, or just 'Vierna' is more than fine."

Regis moved over and hugged Drizzt, nodding with pleasure to see his friend so happy. "Well, good. I'm glad."

Drizzt returned that hug, then rested his hand on Guen's shoulder as she was regarding Vierna. "My sister, this is my friend Guenhwyvar, who has saved my life and freedom more times than I can count."

Guen rumbled softly, greeting -- and warning not to hurt Drizzt.

"Behave, my friend," Drizzt said with a chuckle.

"She's as protective as us, where me ranger is concerned," Catti-brie said.

"I am glad you are, Guenhwyvar," Vierna said, "my brother has needed it, I am already quite sure." She looked at Catti-brie with a quick smile, including her in the comment without saying it directly. "Would you like to be shown around?"

"Aye, we would, as just the stone work I can see is lookin' impressive," Catti-brie answered. "And I know me ranger is curious as his cat."

Guen made a playful protest.

"You mean she is as curious as her drow?" Drizzt teased lightly.

Vierna chuckled and began to show them around, taking the same route she took with every new drow who managed to escape to them, showing off the work Dhaeln and Halan and Micken (and the spouses they'd brought home) had done to make things better than she had imagined.

Catti-brie took the lead in asking questions about craftsmanship, Drizzt asked about the way work was divided out, and Regis listened intently, trying to find a way to make sure he understood how to keep the dwarf-drow alliance solid in the future.

senmut

Battle in the Hills (6,045 words) by

ilyena_sylph &

senmut
Fandom: Forgotten Realms/Legend of Drizzt
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Warnings: No Warnings Apply
Characters: Bruenor Battlhammer, Wulfgar son of Beornegar, Regis, Catti-brie Battlehammer, Drizzt Do'Urden, Artemis Entreri, Ensemble Cast
Additional Tags: Canon Divergence, Canon typical violence, Minor Character deaths
Series: Part 6 of Sisters in Spirit
Summary:

The party of hunters come to battle with the Companions and allies

Battle in the Hills

Entreri's nerves had been itching, but it did make some logical sense that the drow would remain with the halfling as the dwarves and barbarian advanced. The sun was bright, and the halfling was the weakest member of the party. Both would be perfectly capable of making up ground in the evening, once the other three made camp.

As soon as the drow showed himself again, with the halfling at his side, Entreri thought to wait and see, something about the way the drow had moved so his hands nor front could be seen making him suspicious. He opened his mouth --

-- and the damned wizard was already commanding the construct to rush the pair. He drew his sword and dagger, knowing her haste had set the fight in motion.

Three arrows streaked in, faster than even Entreri would have thought possible, as the drow spun at the first sound. Two went straight into the creature, and the third punched through Sydney's left shoulder as if she were no more than a practice target. Entreri was mildly impressed at how quickly the drow had changed target and to such effect.

Micken had frozen at the first sound of the bow's thrum, and he looked back towards them. The huge, fleshy monster looked both obscene and completely unconcerned with the two heavy shafts in it, which was not a good sign.

Now there were a woman's screams in the air, unpleasant but not enough to bother him when they'd been being trailed. Anything that didn't care about arrows in it was going to require a whole lot of killing, he thought, and he lifted the whistle to his lips and blew his call on it. No sound filled their ears, but anyone with a ring from the Sanctuary would hear and know he needed help.

Drizzt had moved his third arrow both for the mage having been visible and after realizing the construct was nothing truly living, and it would not go down to his bow. He discarded the longbow, drawing both swords.

"Now, Regis," he told his friend, who was carrying the figure of wondrous power so as to let Drizzt continue forward to meet the attackers.

"Guenhwyvar, Drizzt needs you!" Regis told the figure, waiting for it to appear... taking the vacated place Drizzt had been as he rushed the trailing party.

Beside Micken, Wulfgar had turned, hammer coming to his hand rather than being unhooked from its place upon his back. Likewise, Bruenor shifted his axe from the handle hold to the haft, and turned to follow his friends into battle.

Jierdan made a startled noise at the sudden appearance of a tiger-sized, onyx-black cat charging towards them along with the drow, but he held his ground. Without Sydney's magic, they were going to be in trouble with four fighters and the cat -- and him having to keep their prisoner from escaping or joining the fight.

He considered the options for a long moment, then shifted his grip on his sword, snapped it up, and knocked Catti-brie squarely in the temple.

She had not seen it coming fast enough, and slumped unconscious at his feet, freeing him to go tend Sydney while the damned assassin held his ground.

Drizzt noted the construct was trying to angle for him and Regis both, ignoring the cry to his gods from Wulfgar. The assassin -- as the swordsman must be, given his complexion was similar in hue to Regis -- was avoiding its path but also intent on Regis.

Drizzt threw his will toward his shadow, his Companion, the great cat that had saved his life countless times, toward the wizard he'd shot. He gave his attention to the assassin, trusting his student.

The construct took the full impact of Aegis-fang to a knee, showing that Wulfgar knew to apply his wits to the fight. It stumbled, but tried to regain itself to obey the command to get the prey.

Jierdan dropped to a knee beside the wizard, saying only, "Sorry," before he grasped the fletching in one hand, the shaft in the other, and focused his strength on breaking the fletching off. It had punched straight through her shoulder, he was going to have to pull it the rest of the way through -- and it was best to do that without the fletching.

She shrieked again, nearly kicking him in sheer reaction from the pain, but she did know what he was about. "No need," she gritted out, and gave him a sharp nod of 'get on with it'. He switched his grip to the bloody part on the far side of her shoulder, other hand on her, and yanked.

Guenhwyvar knew what her drow needed her to do and ran at full speed for the wizard, growling as she saw there was another helping her. Well, she could kill two. The wizard was still on the ground, at the moment, so the other first. Only another few strides.

Regis was absolutely terrified, seeing Artemis Entreri coming for him -- Entreri never worked with people! -- but he ran -- not for his friends, but for the nearest tree, halfling feet working as well as his hands to get up. He'd give Entreri some trouble that way, at least, without endangering his friends any more.

Bruenor was running hard, and under full steam, he was damned fast for his size and speed, but he was not going to reach the swordsmen before they engaged. The construct, though, that he could hack down to size. It might be a horrific abomination, but he had experience cutting things to pieces, as long as he'd lived near giant-kind!

Aegis-fang came back to Wulfgar's hand with the barbarian halfway back to where the construct was. Like Bruenor, he knew that it was their duty in this fight. The name of his god was on his lips, eager to rid the realms of this crime against all things natural.

Entreri paid little heed to the halfling. Regis could not run far; once he had dealt with the drow, he'd have his paycheck in a sack. Then the drow was there, and the first crossing of scimitars on his own blades fired something new within him, something almost like an emotion, because this drow was at his own level!

Regis got himself settled high enough and securely enough that he could use his mace if Entreri came up the tree after him, and looked out to see what was going on. Drizzt was keeping pace with Entreri -- no surprise to him -- in the clash of blades, Bruenor, Micken, and Wulfgar were attacking the terrifying creature that was... turning back towards Drizzt despite being chopped at? No! Drizzt couldn't fight them both!

Guen was... disappearing behind an upthrust rock, about where the wizard had been? Regis only heard a man's scream for a moment, then silence. A moment later, though, he heard Guen cry out in distress, and -- cursing himself all the while, he climbed back down from the tree and started to run to where she was.

Micken cursed a stream of obscenities as his axe bloody bounced off the filthy, stinking, monster-creature's body. At least Wulfgar's hammer was doing some good, he thought, as that knee -- after a third hit -- failed to hold the creature's weight up.

Entreri half-saw the halfling going around them, but honestly he could not have disengaged and knew it. The drow was too fast, and had reach with both blades, keeping his dagger away from any meaningful strikes. He narrowly avoided a gut slice, moved into the opening, and took a minor wound across his bicep as the drow moved in riposte.

There was a raw hunger growing, a need to destroy this effigy of himself who was weaker, had to be weaker, surrounding himself with friends!

Bruenor grunted as the construct's hand tried to sweep him out of the way, but he slammed his axe into the flesh, wrenching hard to try and tear connective tissues apart. It coincided with Micken's next chop, before Wulfgar brought Aegis-fang up with all his might, breaking part of the thing's head open.

Regis made it to where Guen was, and gasped in horror at seeing her crouched over Catti-brie, washing the girl's still face with her tongue. "Guen," he said, "Guen, I'll take care of Catti, go help them kill the monster before it gets to Drizzt!"

Further up the mountain, on the road down from Settlestone, two dwarves and a drow wearing a wood-elf illusion were racing down the road, following the tug of their rings and the sounds of battle to one of their own.

Guen made a noise, but agreed with that order. The enemy wizard was dead, the soldier was dead; Regis and the cub -- Catti-brie -- would be safe, as long as Guen helped end the big threat. She knew why her targets had been chosen that way, that she could not have attacked the big thing first without fouling Wulfgar's line of sight. Now, with them all on top of the thing, she could go and start tearing it apart too.

Entreri needed to disengage. The analytical part of his mind knew that. It also knew the chances of actually breaking free and escaping had dissolved the moment that hammer had been flung with such force and then gone back to the barbarian.

His eyes narrowed, pushing the fight tighter, to try and get rid of one of those curving blades and at least kill this noble mockery of his own skill!

"Get a torch, Micken! Get one lit for this!" Bruenor called to his kinsman, as the construct just kept striving, no matter how many holes Wulfgar managed to put in it. Even his own axe, a masterwork passed down to him, was struggling to get a bite out of the creature.

Hells, Micken thought, but it was a good idea. Fire often did damage to things immune to weapons. He broke away from the fighting and ran for the trees to make a torch, grateful so many of them were pines and would be thick with pitch.

Drizzt had thought for nothing but the fight on his hands. Not since that awful day above the acid had he fought like this... but it was not even like that, for there was nothing but blank efficiency (no passion, no heart, not even hate) in the human he fought.

Regis crossed the rest of the distance to Catti-brie and knelt down beside her, anxiously feeling for her pulse, watching her chest with his heart in his throat until he saw it rise and fall. She was alive, oh, thank all the gods, she was alive. He pulled the small knife from his boot and started cutting through her bonds, muttering curses under his breath.

Wulfgar brought Aegis-fang down with all his power on the other knee to smash it, hoping to immobilize the creature. As he did, a roar of challenge sounded, before Guenhwyvar was on the upper part of the thing, claws and fangs shredding the magical skin in ways that no blade ever could.

Entreri twisted his next attack, and was able to draw blood along Drizzt's forearm, but only with the sword. He had not had to fight at this level in some time, which meant this might boil down to endurance.

Catti-brie groaned slightly as Regis had to move her to get at the last binding, but she was still out, the bruise turning livid at her temple.

Once he was finished working on the bonds, he moved to start trying to wake Catti, taking her shoulders and shaking her slightly. The bruise at her temple worried him, but if they had to run from the monster, she had to be able to run with them. "Catti, Catti, please wake up..."

Micken got a torch together -- it was a pathetic torch, but it would be enough he hoped -- and ran back to near the fighting, waiting to light the smeared pitch and pine-knots bound into it until he was close, so as not to waste any of the fuel. Once he had it lit, he dove towards the broken knee to jam the burning torch inside.

The thing went berserk, flailing and smashing at them and Micken threw himself backwards -- but it was no longer trying to make it closer to the deadly clash of blades a few feet from them.

The noise and motion did nothing to break Entreri's concentration, slipping the grip on his dagger to a reversed hold as he spotted a potential pattern to exploit in this deadly dance. He weighed the chance the drow had a counter for his next move, discarded the possibility as it relied on forfeiting the length of the sword to only use the short blade, and committed.

Wulfgar snatched Bruenor by the collar at the first jerk of the construct, and got them out of the range, stumbling down onto his butt as the adrenaline-fueled strikes left him primed for forward motion, not retreating. Bruenor thumped down to a knee, just as off-balance with his own momentum, but he shoved up to turn and see how he could aid his friend --

Guen yowled and leapt free of the thrashing monster, and was still thrown by a blow of one arm, but she was thrown towards her drow and the human attacking him. She rolled as she hit, getting still closer to the fight, and lunged forward at the human's side, slamming into his ribs with her jaws wide open.

No skill, no amount of training, could defy the force of a tiger-sized maw combined with the inertia of six hundred pounds of feline. Drizzt spun fully away, knowing the assassin was done for, looking to see how he might aid another, never mind his breathing being harsh in his own ears from the exertion. His stamina had been severely tested in recent weeks, and this fight a more severe one than he'd known in twenty years.

"Regis!" Drizzt called as he saw the creature was thrashing but steadily catching fire.

Catti-brie opened her eyes, unseeing at first, but realizing she was being held by familiar hands. She heard the shout, trying to make out the word in it, but her mind was still addled.

"Hi Catti," Regis said, "it's me, don't hit me, you're okay. They're dead," before he lifted his voice and shouted back, "Here, Drizzt!"

Guenhwyvar felt a blade sink into her, snarled -- her mouth was too full to roar -- and raked one paw across the face and throat of the human that had hurt her drow. Blood poured out, and she shook her head hard before releasing the body under her. It twitched -- really? -- and she leaned down and bit the throat out fully.

The creature was still thrashing around in rage, and Micken ran several strides away, pulling it with him before it veered back towards his king and the barbarian.

Drizzt looked at the creature then, and all of his revulsion at its unnatural state, that it wasn't even a proper undead creature, coming up to swell into anger, anger that pushed away his fatigue from the fight.

"Bruenor and Micken, get a couple of saplings down for Wulfgar. Get that thing staked through its wounds so it can burn in place," he called, all authority as that thing was despoiling the very wilds he was meant to protect. He started moving toward Regis, wary in case the halfling was being used as a hostage behind that slight rise.

Catti-brie leaned her head into Regis's chest, fighting not to cry, not to lose it now it was all said and done. Her Da was out there -- she'd have to tell him -- and Wulfgar, and even now her ranger was coming to them.

Regis wrapped his arms around her close as he could, rocking her, not knowing what to do or say and frantic with worry that she hadn't spoken.

Micken nodded -- not that the ranger was going to see it -- and went to put his axe to use. Bruenor started to follow Drizzt's instructions, but wheeled back when he heard it lumbering towards his student.

Breathing. That was what Drizzt always said to focus on when things got overwhelming, and she started the way he'd taught her... just as he got there. He took in the sight of Regis holding the human that was most precious to him, and the anger fueling him took new levels. Guen had gone to keep the construct contained, and reacted to that rage with a particular vicious rip and tear that pulled more flesh off the leg not burning yet.

Wulfgar started throwing his hammer, using it to knock the construct back, rather than engage it directly. He aimed high, the cat stayed low... and they just had to hold on for it to either fall apart, or the flames to take full hold of it.

Regis looked up at Drizzt helplessly, keeping his arms close around Catti, and just waited.

Micken came back dragging three saplings, half again as tall as he was, inch-thick and cut down to points one one end, and dodged out of the way of the rampaging monster -- it had taken to ripping at the ground and rocks, the grip of its hands pulverizing rock to gravel -- to get to Wulfgar. "Knock the bloody thing down again?"

He wasn't entirely certain it would burn completely, it looked as though the fire was stopping where one chunk of corpse-flesh was stitched to the second, but it was definitely worth the try!

As he and Wulfgar managed to get a stake through the shattered knee, his ears picked up the sound of running feet and clanking armor, and he turned his head to see a very welcome sight. Halan, Dhaeln, and -- he wasn't sure which of their clerics that was, under the ring -- coming to them. "Hail, me kin!" he shouted in glad welcome. "Litlle help here?!"

"I'm not close enough yet!" the cleric shouted back -- and that was Ravenna, who'd come from the Promenade.

"Have some patience, lad; we're running hard!" Halan called to him, but -- that was the Foaming Mug! On the other dwarf, and as red of beard as Dhaeln had described their king to them!

"Catti-brie," Drizzt called very softly, as he knew he could not actually help destroy the thing.

She pulled her head up to look at him, biting at her lower lip, before locking eyes, drawing strength from him. Slowly, she stood, after a gentle squeeze of Regis for comforting her, and glanced once at the bodies. She did not regret it... but it was all so stupid and a waste.

"Me friends," she managed to say, before she looked at all the noise.

Regis got up alongside her, and peered at the two dead in confusion -- he knew neither of them, not by sight or clothing, and why would Entreri have worked with anyone? He never did that! He patted Catti's back gently, at her words, before he went around the rock to see what the shouting was about.

Ravenna slid her hand to her pendant as she got into range, stopped running, forced her breath to steady, and pointed at the creature with a hiss of the dispel magic prayer.

In front of her, all the stitches and staples that held the monstrosity together glowed a brilliant silver-white... and disappeared. A moment later, each section hit the ground separately, and a hideous stench rose from them.

"Ugh," Wulfgar said, turning away from the mess and foul odor. "But, it seems magic can be useful."

Guen stalked off a bit, then scratched dirt up and at the pieces before bounding to her ranger and friends. She slipped right up to Catti, encouraging the woman to use her for support.

Drizzt did not rush to Catti-brie, but he did come up on the other side of her, fingers lightly resting on her forearm, before he took full note of the elf and dwarves that had joined them. He steeled himself for the reaction he usually invoked and they went to join the others.

"ME GIRL?!" Bruenor bellowed, even knowing he had kinsmen to meet.

"Aye," Micken said, "so it does." The shout from his king made him twist around, and he blinked at seeing a human young woman, not a dwarf lass, but... that was definitely an angry father's voice. He moved away from the stinking mess towards Dhaeln and Halan, as Ravenna made a face at the disgusting, rotting mess.

"I don't have anything on hand to deal with that," the cleric said unhappily, "I wish I did. How disgusting."

Regis' shoulders slumped at Bruenor's shout, bracing for whatever came next.

"If everyone will start for the trees, I will see this cleaned up," Drizzt said mildly, hating that Catti felt the need to squeeze his arm to comfort him. He gave her a small push to meet Bruenor, even as Wulfgar nodded.

"My teacher will see it done," he said in his low voice of challenging anyone to nay-say that.

"C'mon, Guen, let's go," Regis said, not sparing Entreri a single look.

Catti managed to walk, not run, to her father, despite herself, and bit her tongue on what needed to be said until they were away from the battlefield.

Ravenna blinked, having heard the words -- both from the very large human and the other drow -- and said, "An unusual gift, but a welcome one," before she turned to get back to the shade. The illusion of wood-elf did nothing to help protect her eyes from the sun.

Once they were all close together, Micken said, "Me King, these be Dhaeln Cragmaw and Halan Thrake, and this be Ravenna, one o' the clerics o' me folk."

"Aye, and well-met, but words will wait for the trees," Bruenor said, too busy checking his girl over. "Och, lass," he said in a soft tone, taking in the bruise at her temple, her road-worn look, and the haunting in her eyes. "Let's get tae a place tae take care o' ye," he said then, unhappy, but not willing to bluster through it. His anger was for Regis, but that too would wait.

Drizzt waited until they had moved on -- to gain his composure from the calm way the cleric had reacted -- then sent a heartfelt plea to the wilds to send its cleaners, the carrion crows and other scavengers.

All of his own tangled emotions, and the love of his Goddess for him, had them coming swiftly, to attend the fetid, putrid mess.

Ravenna felt a ripple in the world, and looked over her shoulder to see scavenger-birds that loved decay coming on on swift wings, and reached her hand to Micken's whistle, contacting it to stop the call to the rings with the connection. She dipped her head to the dwarven king, and followed along until they had found a place under the trees wide enough for all of them to sit down. She moved to kneel in front of the human girl, extending both her hands. "May I aid you? That looks painful."

"I... Aye, Lady. My eyes are blurred and it's hard tae think," she said, her accent as strong as the dwarf's that Ravenna did not know yet.

Drizzt felt a satisfaction for that, and released the remaining anger. He did a sweep of all three human corpses, retrieved his bow, then jogged to catch up with the group. Luskan, it seemed, had been the source of the other two, but why?

She nodded, and laid her hands very gently on the girl's temple and one rope-burned wrist, murmuring a quiet healing prayer as she turned one of her higher spells into the healing. She watched as the lump and bruising faded away, as did the abrasions at her wrists. "Micken, are you hurt? You others?"

"I donnae thin -- och," Micken stopped in mid-word as pains from being swatted at by the creature made themselves known. "Mayhap a bit, but see tae me king an' his companions first, aye?"

Ravenna rolled her eyes exasperatedly and turned to the oversized human and the dwarf. "Saers?"

"Wounds taken in battle -- " Wulfgar began.

"--will slow ye down, an' I say you let the wise woman do as needed," Bruenor growled at him. Wulfgar chose not to dig his heels in, and went to kneel in front of the elf. Once he was done, Bruenor looked at Micken. "A chief doesnae take respite a'fore his clan," he said firmly.

Ravenna turned and flashed a bright, cheerful smile at the king for that, and extended her hands to Micken to deal with his variety of bruises. "A bit?" she muttered at him, feeling the spell take hold, before she looked to the -- Goddess Above, he was young!! -- male coming towards them all. "Cousin," she said mildly, "come let me see to those wounds I see."

"They are -- "

"Goin' tae be dealt with!" Bruenor informed him, and Wulfgar grinned as his teacher meekly obeyed.

Yet, when Ravenna touched the young drow ranger, the effort to affect healing within him was higher than with the others, as if something resisted.

She frowned, and exerted herself while trying to remain gentle. Perhaps he was -- oh, Goddess, she'd forgotten... "My healing should not cause one like you pain, cousin," she said gently. "Don't fight me, let me help."

"I am not fighting it," Drizzt said, confused, "but... it will not hurt?" A distant memory of the potion he'd drank, after that ambush on his pursuers. He willed himself to let down any inner defenses he'd been holding, not wanting to make life harder for any faerie that was willing to help -- even touch! -- him.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Not a bit."

As she saw him relax, she tried again, throwing herself at the healing -- and this time, it took better, closing the cuts on his exposed skin.

Drizzt inclined his head to her, then went to sit where Guen could love on him, away from the others a bit. She rubbed her head into his chest, then flopped with her head over a thigh while he started cleaning his blades, much as Wulfgar was working on his hammer.

Now, Ravenna put out her hands for Bruenor, waiting for him to come closer so that she could heal him. So many healings so close together had depleted her spells a fair amount, but she wasn't particularly concerned by that. She had her three around her, now, and apparently more allies.

She raised an eyebrow at Micken and tapped her thumbnail against the glamour ring, wanting to know if all of these would be all right with a second drow, or if she should retain her illusion.

He shrugged, uncertain. Then he decided, if she was asking, to be dwarf-blunt. "Me people, they're not as all seems," he began. "But ye already know drow can be good."

Drizzt looked over at him, then Ravenna. "I admit I am curious about how well you have handled my presence, given other reactions on this quest."

Ravenna looked from face to face, decided to trust Micken, and pulled the ring from her finger, reverting to her own appearance. "A ring of glamour," she said, "the only one we possess, and a great treasure for that it allows one of us to trade or help others without being attacked. I am Ravenna, priestess of Eilistraee."

Bruenor stared at her, stared at Drizzt, stared at her again. "In all me years, I'd nae heard of a single goodly drow, an' now, two o' ye?"

Drizzt was startled more than any of the others; he had lived twenty years without seeing a single other drow, let alone hearing of a good one from all the people he had been able to trust in those years.

"You... there are others? Not just me?" slipped out before he could wrap his stoic nature around him like a shield.

Catti-brie's heart ached all over again for him, knowing how alone he had felt even with the friends he'd won from her clan.

"There are," Ravenna told him, her chest aching for him, for the shock in his purple eyes and the youth in his voice. She put her hands out for him again, wanting to comfort him. "We are few... terribly few... out of all the drow who exist, but you are not alone. We have sought for you for almost all your time on the Surface, after word came to us from a friend of Dove Falconhand. But you cannot be scried out, and you traveled quickly. We would not have left you alone so long, cousin, if we could have helped it."

"Cannot be scried..." he murmured, letting her have his hand. Guen decided to lick her for that, pleased, even as she stayed close to her drow. "Mielikki, possibly, guarding me from drow who would harm me?"

"Whatever it is, me elf, ye have others now. But yer still bound tae me quest, ye hear?" Bruenor said, with a hint of bluster now.

Drizzt chuckled, having needed that. "Indeed, my friend."

He called on Mielikki? Of the nature gods, Ravenna supposed she was preferable, having an elven aspect and holding their nearest major city as her stronghold. She kept hold of Drizzt's hand, squeezing it gently before she turned her head to look at the dwarven king.

"Maybe so," she said, before continuing on. "King Bruenor, as we will be neighbors, and it is the desire of my dwarven friends to know what drove them from their home... unless you object, I will accompany you at least back to the ruins?"

Dhaeln snorted, but she'd save arguing with her king for if he decided to be a fool, not before. "Tis more than good tae see ye again, Bruenor, tae know ye an' more o' our folk live. Who're these wi' ye, me king?"

"Ye be welcome, cleric, as we've had none of our own for many a year," Bruenor decided, as his elf had decided to trust her, given the lack of protest at being touched. "This be me girl, Catti-brie. That one there is Wulfgar, son of Beornegar, an' a finer lad ye cannae find."

Wulfgar straightened a little at that praise.

"Regis Rumblebelly -- stop fidgeting, an' know I'm angry, but ye be my friend, and ye had reasons in that head o' yers." He then gestured to Drizzt. "Me elf there is Drizzt Do'Urden, and the durn cat -- ye did good, cat -- is Guen."

Dhaeln nodded to each of them, corner of her mouth quirked at the repeated 'me elf' -- that was so very much like the dwarrow she remembered, blunt, gruff, and protective. "Greetings tae all of ye. What caused all this, though -- monster like that thing be nae cheap -- tae come after ye?"

Regis sighed, raking his hand through his hair. "I don't know. I mean. I know Entreri -- the human you killed, Drizzt -- was after me, but he never worked with anyone else! Ever! So where the monster and the wizard and the other one came from, I don't know!"

"Luskan," Drizzt said softly. "And given the wizard, that creature... I think I was the target."

"Ye were, me ranger," Catti-brie said. "I was there when the mage in the High Tower sicced the pair on ye, because of the battle last year."

That got a nod. "I feared as much, once I found the Luskan coins in their pouches."

Wulfgar frowned at that. "It is a problem, then, to leave that thing buried where it fell?"

"Possibly. Probably, even, but I have no allies to trust in this."

Ravenna and Dhaeln exchanged a look, but decided not to pry -- something that had sent a creature like that so far was something that was worth being secretive over, and they were newly met.

"How came ye tae be in Luskan, me girl?" Bruenor asked, still entirely confused on that part.

Catti-brie looked away, then looked at Regis. He flinched, and her eyes grew misty, realizing he was going to feel the guilt of this for years.

"I'd gone tae claim Regis's belongings. The assassin caught me, questioned me, and ... Da. Fender, Grollo... they came for me that day."

"What?" Bruenor asked, his jaw dropping a bit and concern for his clan surging up in him. "I -- nae, me girl, I --" He almost turned on Regis in a rage, but made himself breathe instead, only glaring.

Dhaeln gave a high, sharp keen, remembering both of those dwarrow as the friends of her youth, now lost only months before they could be restored to her, and Halan made a similar sound of mourning and loss.

Micken, though, looked to Ravenna. "Sister, do you think...?"

"I'd be willing," she agreed, "so long as their bodies still exist. It would be their choice, though, and you dwarves are unpredictable about such things."

"We keep the bones, and with them, as our clan was preparing tae march in hopes of Da's success, they'd be wrapped, to bring home," Catti-brie made herself say, holding her father. Regis had started to move away, but Wulfgar caught him, dragging him down beside him.

"I will quest for what you need, if they choose it," Drizzt said firmly. "We are on the verge of finding their home, and Bruenor will need them. They will choose duty."

"Well, then," Ravenna said, nodding. "When they come, I will talk to them, or one of my sisters will if I am unavailable. What I will need is diamond, quite a bit of it, but we can talk about the details later."

Drizzt nodded, looked at Wulfgar who half-shrugged; he would gladly adventure with his teacher.

"He left me there, Da, after the killing," Catti said, glossing over the slaughter it had actually been. "But I knew ye needed tae be warned! So I came... with the caravan rolling out. But... he caught me, killed the tradesman on the wagon I was with.

"Been unable to find a way to escape since."

There. She had managed to lock up the worst of it -- and Drizzt caught her eyes. He was worried, but would not press around strangers.

"Oh, me girl," Bruenor said, getting his strength together again, wondering at the cleric who offered to exert herself so for his folk's sake. "Brave of ye, me girl. Elf, it's a right good thing ye an' the cat did for him, for me clan's sake."

Guen rumbled softly. Drizzt just nodded.

"They laid in wait for ye at the city, Silverymoon," Catti-brie said. "None too pleased tae be thwarted there."

Drizzt snorted.

"The ruler there turned Drizzt away, and we refused to enter without him," Wulfgar said. "Though our teacher seems to have made kindly with her on the road, while we slept." He made sure his voice had a slide indicating personal asides, to tease.

That made Drizzt duck his head. "She was protecting her people," he redirected. "And gave us all the aid we needed."

"Turned out well enow," Catti-brie said. "That one, I think, would have used the crowd to knife ye in the back afore ye knew he was there, had ye been in the walls."

Ravenna shrugged slightly, not about to debate politics or try to defend a stranger. "Any that would use a monster like that flesh construct are better food for carrion than living, in any case. Whatever they intended, it is done now. ...are all of you hungry, or do you wish to reach the ruins before a meal? It is not from us."

"Ruins first," Bruenor said. "Then we can sit and eat, a'fore I take the memory potion the Lady has given us."

"Agreed." Drizzt stood gracefully, and the swords were sheathed with effortless skill and speed. "Up, my student! You are dawdling!"

"Not all of us are made of springs, my teacher," Wulfgar rejoined, a smile as he slipped Aegis-fang on its strap at his back so they could begin their journey again.

senmut

Ice on the Marches (3,480 words) by

ilyena_sylph &

senmut
Fandom: Forgotten Realms/Legend of Drizzt
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Warnings Apply
Characters: Vierna Do'Urden, Alustriel Silverhand, Drizzt Do'Urden, Ensemble Cast
Additional Tags: Canon Divergence, Female Friendship
Series: Part 4 of Sisters in Spirit
Summary:

The Companions enter the picture

Ice on the Marches

1358 D.R.

The idea of a dwarf, a halfling, a barbarian, and a drow was the beginning of a tavern tale, if Alustriel had ever heard one in her life. She was entertained, though, as Shardra Harpell related this particular tale of the 'Companions of the Hall', as her cousin Harkle had dubbed them.

" —gar, and finally Drizzt Do'Urden who was — "

Alustriel wondered why that name had a ring to it. She did not think any of her children had said it in her presence. She kept listening though, even as she tapped her anklet in a tight focus to her ranger and bard sisters.

~Oh sisters mine, has one of you whispered the name Drizzt Do'Urden in my ears before?~ she asked in a merry mood, as Shardra spun her words with as much skill as any Harper.

~That… oh, right. The drow that Montolio DeBrouchee took in, the one I mentioned, oh, twenty years ago?~ Dove said. She started her own sending then. ~I'd asked Thyl to make sure he was watched for, as he was far from either major group of his people.~

~My people had whispers of a drow haunting the roads for … several years after that, but then he vanished,~ Storm tagged onto the sending. She then set her own off. ~I am on my way there, so I'll ask more when I arrive.~

~Oh, I will get to see both of you? And maybe meet him? As I am coming up to research an old ranger spell,~ Dove added.

~I look forward to it. Until later, my sisters,~ Alustriel said, to return her full focus on evenfeast's socializing.

Several days later, it was a much different mood for Alustriel as she took the report from the Moorgate. She'd already known how heavy her heart was around this, but hearing that those with the drow were injured and had refused to enter only added to the pain of her choice.

If Storm or Dove heard of everything that had been stirred up by the Riders, this could still spiral into desperate measures. She had to head it off. Fortunately, she had ideas on how to aid. A visit to the Companions, with the full weight of her sovereignty to offer apologies and explanations was one step. The next would be potions to heal, and in the dwarf's case, to mend his memory once they found their clues. She could also point them at a resource few knew to reach out to.

And finally, once that visit was done, she would reach out to Spirit Sanctuary, and see if they could — or would — keep an eye on the region near Herald's Holdfast to lend aid if needed.

Yes. That would help begin to ease the debt she now owed one she had wronged who did not deserve it. After, and telling them both of the measures in place, she would encourage her sisters to bring tensions in the city down. Storm was good at that… as long as Alustriel trimmed her reasons for temper down first.

While Alustriel had been allowed to know where Spirit Sanctuary was, she had never actually been there. She opted to leave that visit for the next night, as her pulse was still ringing with the reaction that actually meeting Drizzt Do'Urden had invoked in her.

He was a man cut from the same cloth as those she had allied to throughout her long life. His ability to let go of his anger was nothing short of amazing, and his spirit absolutely shone with dedication to the protection of others.

Her fingers were itching to commit that first impression into some form of art, but business had to take precedence. Later, she promised herself, she would savor it, especially how electric it had felt to touch his cheek, to try and console him against the bitterness.

Focus, she chided herself inwardly, pushing that giddy sense of connection with him to the back of her mind.

With all of her duties done, and Storm on a mission to scold the city into remembering their duty to good folk of all kinds, Alustriel slipped out of the High Palace on a phantom steed. She could be to the priestess and back well before dawn, having memorized two of the spells.

Alustriel politely landed on the broad lip of the plateau where Spirit Sanctuary was cut into the cliff. She was very impressed with how little illusion was used to keep it from being visible, as they had cut deep into the rock, supporting it with timbers and eventually shaped pillars. Approaching from the air or looking down from any part of the mountain itself would not reveal it. The pathways that led to it were obscured, she thought, surveying the area with magic detection, but even there she could see efforts to keep the village from being noticeable.

She let the phantom steed go after dismounting, and waited right where she was for the guards she knew had to be on duty to decide how to handle her. Nor was it a long wait, as she saw — ahh, they had gone directly for Vierna it seemed — the cleric coming out of an entry Alustriel had not yet noticed.

She smiled, to try and set the tone for this meeting, given she was asking for a favor from them.

"Greetings, Lady Vierna," she called warmly.

"Greetings, Lady Alustriel," Vierna replied, coming to within arm's reach of the powerful archmage, studying her face for a moment before she returned the smile. "You are welcome, of course, but what brings you to us in the middle of your night?"

It could not be that Mena or Thyl were hurt, their mother would hardly be smiling if there was anything truly wrong.

Alustriel took a breath. "A matter of some travelers that will be near the lower portion of your territory," she began. "Because of tensions in the Silver Marches, I had to deny one member of the party entry, and all of them chose not to continue their quest within my walls.

"I was... very upset to do so, but the Riders of Nesme had forced my hand with ugly rumors ahead of their meeting with me."

Vierna frowned at the mention of the Riders of Nesme -- her people had had one or two unpleasant encounters with the bigoted humans -- and more at the idea of them causing trouble for her friends' mother in her own city. "I am sorry to hear it," she said, "and... you wish us to keep our eyes out for them? What are they questing after?"

"The quest is for the dwarf's lost Hall," Alustriel began. "I don't know if you were established here already when Mithral Hall fell, but that is what they seek. I have pointed them to the Herald's Holdfast to see if they can find more information there."

"We had only gotten established," Vierna said, as her eyes widened in surprise, "but -- another survivor? Truly?!"

'Another' -- Oh that warmed Alustriel's heart further. "Thyl's and Mena's elder brothers aided with rescuing those that found the Moon Wood. Bruenor Battlehammer, though, apparently had a contingent that wound up all the way in Icewind Dale, and I had no idea of it until this tale reached my ears."

"A true Battlehammer," Vierna said in shock, her eyes still wide even as her mind kicked over into planning, into working out how to help this kinsman of her people. "I'll have to wake Micken, maybe Dhaeln, if you will tell me how to find this 'Herald's Holdfast' so he can go to them..."

That made the Arch Mage blink. Not just having succored survivors, but living ones here? That was providential news!

"The Holdfast sits on the eastern side of the Moon Wood, closer to my city. I was suspecting, however, that whatever clues they find will push them up into this region.

"I never knew where the Hall was, but had an impression it was closer to this region than not," Alustriel told her.

"I have never been able to remove the curse of forgetting my few suffer under," Vierna admitted, "Eilistraee does not entirely understand it, so..." She shrugged a little helplessly, sighing. "We know it cannot have been terribly far, because Micken did not have sores from his wastes, and the old one could not have fled far with his wound. There were spans of bare rock, though, that made it impossible even for my people to be certain where they had come from."

Alustriel nodded. "And so few of the elders survived for long after, with even some of the older youths succumbing to a malaise of the spirit," she murmured sadly. "I am grateful to know your people aided." She gave a warm smile. "Well, I will craft a map showing where the Holdfast is, if you wish it.

"But in truth, I had a secondary concern for you, and this is the part that pains me to admit." She met Vierna's eyes steadily. "The Riders had caused the merchants concern because of the drow in the party. Too much of our trade comes from that road, for food and goods we don't produce in our city."

"A drow?" Vierna blinked, several times. "Moving openly, in company with others? Are they one of Qilué's people, then? None of mine are away from me..." She trailed off, before she frowned a little more. "I am sorry to hear it, but I can understand your decision. They're idiots, but many humans are. Do you think the trouble will last?"

"No. Storm is in the city, enlisting aid in turning popular opinion," Alustriel said. "And so is Dove, who stands guarantee for the drow, having encountered him about twenty years ago, or nearly enough.

"He apparently vanished into the Far North, and has only now emerged, yet -- " Her voice trailed off as she tried to find words for the sense of Destiny she'd seen around the ranger. "He seems touched by things yet to come, and carries a gravity that leads me to believe his stalwart friendships with the other three were very hard won."

"I am glad to hear that," Vierna said, as she nodded. "Thyl and Mena came to tell me there was one your sister had met who was now wandering, but... his travels never brought him to us. I was sad about that, from what they told me of her encounter with him. He sounded like someone I would like to meet. Perhaps I will, now!

"Friendships outside our own are most-often hard won," she agreed quietly, sighing. "I was very lucky in meeting Mena as early as I did."

That brought a smile to Alustriel once more, as she was fond of her ever-adventuring daughter's ways. "I am personally grateful as well." Through that friendship, there had been aid, several times, that had impacted her family. "Where may I settle, to work on the map for you, Vierna?"

"This way," Vierna said, and brought her to one of the workrooms. It was empty at this hour, and with the shutter closed, the candlelight would bother no one. "Did you happen to get this wanderer's name?"

"The Harpells have dubbed the band the 'Companions of the Hall', and named each one," Alustriel said, thinking for a moment on that wanderer more deeply than she possibly ought. "The ranger, for that is his calling, is Drizzt Do'Urden."

Vierna stared at her, shocked into speechlessness, her hands making a bewildered infant-sign of confusion and distress, the sound of her own rarely-used surname echoing through her mind.

Alustriel reached her hands out, taking those gesturing ones, and just offering support while Vierna worked through whatever this storm was.

"My friend, what is it? Is there something at work you already know of? I promise you, his nature is as keenly good as my own."

"That," Vierna finally managed to get out, "is my family name!"

Alustriel was the one startled now, and she blinked several times, before managing a soft chuckle. "If he is truly related to you, then, goodness runs in your line?

"He... he was so hurt, so angry, and yet he both let go of it and forgave me, once we had spoken."

"It must," Vierna said, "oh, how Malice would rage at that idea, but I am... intrigued. No, I am more than intrigued, I am near desperate to know more. He forgave you? Not something that comes easily to any of us, when we have been wounded. Especially not heart-wounds. We deal poorly with those, I have noticed."

That got a nod. "I was surprised that it went as well as it did, and yet... he felt like a kindred spirit in many ways." Alustriel let go of her hands, so she could get things out... and hide the faint flush to her cheeks for the fact that Drizzt Do'Urden was staying high in her thoughts.

Another Do'Urden, on the Surface? This would be either someone from another city, or a child of Malice's, since Briza would never mate.

A male sibling, of hers that wasn't Nalfein...

In short order, Alustriel had the outline of the hills, the river, the Moon Wood, and placed relevant landmarks. She had worked quickly, in the quiet of Vierna digesting the shocking news.

"I think this should be sufficient for any of your people to use?" she said at last, offering the map.

Vierna took it and looked over it, then nodded. "Yes, certainly. Thank you, Alustriel. The idea that they have a king still alive, an heir of the blood... that will matter very much to my people. And I... I am... bewildered and overwhelmed at this idea of someone who shares my name wandering the Surface for so long. This is the kind of thing Eilistraee would normally tell me, or... Qilué knows my name perfectly well, why didn't she tell me?"

Alustriel shook her head. "Dove did ask that watch be kept, but aside from rumored sightings several years ago, nothing solid ever happened. I do not believe Qilué knows more than you do about his wanderings.

"And... the bare impression I had was that the divinity he is drawing from is a wild one, likely Mielikki."

Vierna raked one hand through her hair, disarraying it, as she looked at Alustriel in consternation. "None of this makes any sense. Well, it is what it is, and hopefully with Micken to speak to this Bruenor, I can find out something."

"I wish you well... and by the time they know more, I will have my city back in hand, to lend aid," Alustriel promised, standing so that she could go. "May your people thrive always."

"And yours, Alustriel. Be well," Vierna told her, walking with her back out of the workroom once she had put the candle out.

Alustriel moved back to the open space, calling her new phantom steed to her. She could have teleported, but Old Night deserved a warning, so she would stop there, ahead of the Companions, and then go home.

Vierna watched her call the phantom creature, then turned to go back to her work. The map had convinced her that Micken could get to Herald's Holdfast before these 'Companions of the Hall' could, so she would let him sleep through the night, and talk to him in the morning.

Micken was up with the sun, like most of the non-drow that had ever lived with them. Some of the drow had joined that schedule, but most worked through the night, often hunting and gathering, slept in the morning, and then did crafts in the evening with their more day-oriented chosen kin.

Before Micken could get to the stores cavern and begin cataloguing the items brought in by night, First Sister was there to catch him after his meal.

"Aye?"

"Silverymoon's Lady came to me in the night," Vierna said, "with news that means much to me... but I think will mean far more to you and yours. There are more of your clan in Icewind Dale," she held up a hand for silence so she could finish, "their leader is a true Battlehammer of the blood, and he has come south to seek for his Hall."

Micken's jaw dropped, and he tried, a number of times, to find the right words. "Me people have a chieftain, an' there be more o' us in the north," he said incredulously. "Aye, that means a fair bit tae us, Sister, aye it does.

"Where be the Battlehammer now?"

"Headed to a place called Herald's Holdfast, which the Lady made me a map to," Vierna replied. "I expect you'll want to leave -- I made you a pack, but you'll want to go through it, I'm sure -- as soon as you can.

"The part which matters to me, my friend," she said softly, "is that a drow travels with him, one who could reach Silverymoon... and one who shares my family name."

"So we both be finding family soon," Micken said, resting a hand on her arm. "Aye, Lady, I'll be going an' findin' them both, see what I can learn from them meself." He straightened fully, his bearing set on determined now. "Until I see ye again, my Lady and Sister," he said properly, "may all our gods watch over us."

"Until I see you again," Vierna replied, "may they guide and guard you."

Herald's Holdfast sat close to the edge of the Moon Wood, but they still had to get to it from where they were. Drizzt took point, relying on memories of maps seen when he was younger and still under the tutelage of Montolio. Mooshie had made him study those maps intently.

We don't run often, but if you don't know a region and you run the wrong way, who gets the warning out, hmm?

The voice was a bittersweet comfort. Even with the reassurance of the Lady of Silverymoon — and a feeling that maybe, just maybe, he might yet find a place in her lands — his heart was raw. He'd never truly wanted to take up this quest, excusing his misgivings as a justified caution about whatever had driven the dwarves out.

How much of it was the idea that if Bruenor found his home, that was one more separation from Drizzt, when they had shared being exiles as part of their friendship? It was an unbecoming thought, and yet Drizzt was too honest in his heart not to grasp it, in part.

He was disturbed out of his thoughts as a jagged line in the bark of a tree caught his ever-vigilant observation. His eyes focused, and all thoughts of losing Bruenor as a friend faded, for he was looking at a drow glyph, marked in such a way as to tell those that could read it that an elf village was in a specific tree.

It touched the back of his awareness that the glyph neither glowed nor held any magic, and was actually just like the blazes rangers carved to guide each other. That really didn't matter as memories tumbled over top of each other — drow cruelty and drow viciousness and long ago violence under trees much like the one bearing that mark.

"My teacher?" Wulfgar called.

"Drow have been here," Drizzt managed to say, idly proud of the young man for noting the change in his demeanor, and for calling it to attention, much as Drizzt would have preferred to master the spike of emotions.

When did the world ever give him anything to his preferences?

Bruenor squinted at the mark, frowned and then shook his head. "Bah! Elf, ye cannae go gettin' yer head mixed up for such. That's been scored in the wood long enow tae be fadin'. Keep a-movin', and let's find this Holdfast, ye hear?"

"And if the marks are as old as the fall of your hall?" Drizzt asked mildly.

"Then even better I be knowin' ye, aye? Beat the tricks of the stinkin' drow and win me hall back, ye will!"

"Bruenor's right, Drizzt," Regis said. "If it is drow, you'll know how to plan a way to beat them!"

Drizzt had no idea why they had such faith in him, but it did ease some of the pain in his heart. Bruenor was right; the sign was old. And it might even be unrelated. Best to follow the guidance of the Lady — Alustriel, he reminded himself, still feeling the cool hand on his cheek — and pushed on.

senmut

Gender-Changed Drizzt (7,046 words) by

senmut
Chapters: 3/3
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Warnings Apply
Relationship: Alustriel Silverhand/Drizzt
Characters: Vierna Do'Urden, Zaknafein Do'Urden, Jarlaxle Baenre, Drizzt Do'Urden, Catti-brie Battlehammer, Bruenor Battlehammer, Wulfgar son of Beornegar, Alustriel Silverhand
Additional Tags: Gender Changes, Canon Divergence
Summary:

Drizzt, born a girl, too Good to survive as a priestess, is hidden by sister and father.

Boys are Fighters (4,977 words)

Vierna watched as Dreeza tried her best to pronounce the simple prayer, saw the absolute pain in eyes and the locked jaw, leaving her convinced.

She did not understand why her little sister was so different, but as a Masked Traitor, she had to come up with a plan. No drow life should be put aside lightly. Given how adept she was with both hands, Vierna suspected already she would have an ally in this.

One poison later, and the House had lost a daughter, a daughter that had not yet been too costly an investment for Malice to investigate after the junior cleric decreed the body had to be disposed of, for how the 'illness' had struck.

Vierna was in quarantine for it, and little Dreeza was removed from the house under guard to go to the acid pool nearby.

Zaknafein managed the switch with a wrapped body for the house slaves to dispose of during that trek, while a shadow slipped the actual child away.

Dreeza blinked at the bald man with the eye patch, but Vierna had told her to trust in him. She'd also said that the weapon master would come, from time to time, to check on her.

"Little one," the bald man said. "I am fond of your sire, so I will help you survive. But you cannot be a girl any longer."

"Don't want to be," Dreeza told him. "Girls have to say the words that hurt."

The man smiled at her. "Is that how it is, hmm? Well. Can you learn to answer to Drizzt? Close to your name, but boyish."

"Drizzt." She — he, he firmly decided, because boys learned sharp things and sometimes magic — rather liked the sound of it. It felt right.

Drizzt showed the new techniques to Zaknafein, always happiest when that man came to visit.

Zak wished it could stay like this always, with him slipping in to teach his child as he was able. Jarlaxle was right, though. The city was getting more dangerous, Malice was pushing her ambitions too far, and Drizzt being exposed would leave him and Vierna — oh how proud he was of her! — at risk.

"Drizzt."

The young fighter came and sat beside Zak at that tone, accepting the arm that came around slim shoulders. As Drizzt had matured, Jarlaxle had used cleverly cut clothing to mask the slim build and modest curves, but Malice's delicate features were there.

"Father."

Zak's chest tightened. Jarlaxle had promised him that Drizzt would be safer elsewhere, somewhere House Do'Urden had no ties.

"Bregan D'aerthe will be taking you somewhere. It's getting too dangerous to hide you here, and you deserve to not be a prisoner in the compound."

Drizzt's chin tipped up, and the lavender eyes gleamed with resolve.

"Want you and my sister safe, so I will go. Some day, I will see you again?"

"Some day, darkness willing," Zak said, hugging his younger child tight. "Take this." Zak put a small figure in Drizzt's hands. "I took it from a wizard in training, and Vierna learned its name."

That had been a fierce fight for the House, but Drizzt didn't need to know that.

"Name?"

Zak leaned down and whispered it in his child's ear, prompting Drizzt to practice it over and over silently.

Jarlaxle had intended for Zak's child to be sent to safety.

Even he could not guarantee everything.

Drizzt had already been passed into the hands of someone else, though, and he never knew when the new band escorting the young fighter was ambushed, with the survivors set to be sold as slaves in unsavory places.

The slavers never reckoned on Drizzt escaping, fleeing them on the surface. Things seen in the short captivity, though, meant that Drizzt would continue to be a boy, rather than risk that kind of personal violence.

At least the figure had gone unnoticed for its worth, making Drizzt swear to keep it always safe.

The first lessons of life Above came in the Neverwinter Forest. Several times, Drizzt had only barely escaped from both drow and humans that lived there. The drow at least, had been curious about a stranger, but inevitably someone would check alignment, and then it turned into a hunt.

The humans started with hostility.

Drizzt became quite skilled at hiding, at observing the small bands of people, even as exploration was the path taken. Moving as far from where they had come to the surface seemed safest, and Drizzt traveled ever in the direction of the great light in the sky.

Through it all, Guenhwyvar, the figure's summoned creature, protected when she was there. The surface was better for her than the Underdark, and she would make certain Drizzt learned that well.

The hills had taught new skills of stealth, and introduced Drizzt to orcs. Badly.

There was only so much the fighter could do against many of them, and the injuries were taking their toll.

"Guenhwyvar," Drizzt called, hiding in a shallow hole undercut in the river's bank, the water lapping in to make it unpleasantly damp.

The panther took up the bulk of the space there, and growled, knowing her drow was hurt badly, maybe bad enough to kill.

She sprang out of the hole, and went hunting… first to secure safety, and then to find aid.

Drizzt came conscious in a warm place, clean and bandaged, and only hidden by a blanket in barely lit room. Panic flared, but before Drizzt could sit up, a hand — old, knotted with arthritis and pale — reached out to gently press down.

"No, child."

Those were words Drizzt knew, and the tone was kind. Lavender eyes sought the speaker, the owner of the hand, to find an old human, gray hair pulled tight in a bun, watching him without fear.

"Your cat came for me, brought me to you. An Astral being doesn't willingly aid someone evil, and you'd killed several of the orcs that chased you. Bad lot, those."

Drizzt wasn't catching every word, but this felt safe, felt like the deep woods where nothing ever hurt for long.

"You'll stay to heal. And maybe, maybe you'll learn a bit."

Drizzt's eyes closed, the warmth and safety and injuries all calling for more sleep.

Evgin Morningmist was, Drizzt came to learn, a retired ranger. Evgin took the time to heal all the injuries, then when Drizzt seemed willing to stay, began teaching Drizzt the true skills of wild-living.

Language came easier, having someone to directly talk to, and Drizzt soaked up everything that could be learned from the human.

Drizzt's gender didn't come up until Evgin brought in leather and boning to measure for new gear to replace what had been ravaged by the orcs.

"Figured," Evgin began, "that you had reasons for the way you wore that leather. That's between you and your soul. All I need to know is what you mean to be seen as, and what you let people know you are."

Drizzt swallowed hard against the knot of complications. "Men are fighters, wizards. Women are priestesses. So I prefer to be a man."

Evgin scoffed. "Not Above, Drizzt. Anyone can do as they want, no matter what parts they were born to or grew over time. If you see yourself as a man, that's fine. But if you make yourself be a man because you think that's how it has to be… that's not the best."

Drizzt considered, then shrugged. "That I know I am a woman in body is one thing, but my mind sees what I do as a man. Is that good?"

Evgin smiled. "As you wish it to be. I'll say he and him around others, but if you want to be she and her in my home, I will be fine with it. However, for now, I'm going to measure and we will make something to smooth out the curves more.

"Armor goes a long way, and Chauntea knows all elves are pretty enough few can tell the genders at range."

Drizzt laughed, but filed that away as another piece to keep safe among humans. Only trusted people — like Evgin — should know.

"Drizzt… child come here!"

Drizzt scrambled up out of the cellar where they'd made a quiet, dark place to live for the fighter. Evgin was on the swept stone just past the threshold, looking east.

"I'm here," Drizzt said rather than touch the woman.

"Need you to pack up the torches, and run like the wind," Evgin said firmly. "Caravan that passed today didn't make it far enough down the road, and it looks to be a dark night."

"Trolls?"

The ranger had retired very close to the Evermoors, also called the Trollmoors, and in the course of teaching Drizzt, explained the dangers they were. Most caravans knew to get to this stretch early, so they could skirt the edge on the trade road with full daylight.

Drizzt wondered why this caravan hadn't stopped when it was obvious they wouldn't make it soon enough. That didn't matter; gathering the pre-pitched torches did. It was going to be hard, to go and defend, when fire was so necessary. It meant others were bound to see the black skin and white hair that damned all drow to surface folk.

When Drizzt returned, torches in a tight bundle for carrying, Evgin was holding a shirt of mail, finely made.

"You get this now, Drizzt. I can't fight well enough to help you tonight, but my old armor will fit and protect you better."

The bundle was set down, sword belt unhitched, and Evgin helped Drizzt into the surprisingly light chain.

"Dwarf-crafting, said to have come out of the Frost Hills a few generations ago," she said. "Only ever let dwarves fix it for me, if I couldn't set the rings myself."

"I will wear it in honor," Drizzt promised.

"Know that, I do. Now go keep that idiot merchant safe."

And so it began… rumors of a drow that answered to the ancient ranger near the Evermoors grew. Many thought it was just a myth. Some would say they had seen dark skin and pale hair, but the stories were laughed away.

No drow was good. There'd been raids enough to prove that.

And the giant cat with this supposed drow? Had to be a wild elf or a wood elf, who just looked dark in the night. Drow didn't use animal companions after all.

Longsaddle was curious, but organization and sense of urgency never went hand in hand with the family there. The chance to find out slipped away, once Chauntea called her ranger home… and the student struck out to see what else there was in the world.

When Bruenor brought his people to the fighting, he'd hoped to save more than it was looking like. The last thing he expected in that hope was another fighter suddenly appearing…

…and goblins tripping over themselves to get away from the newcomer. Bruenor marked the possible threat, especially when the new fighter looked at a particularly gruesome pair of bodies, and gave pursuit to those fleeing.

The order to hunt for survivors went up when they stopped finding goblins to kill, and Bruenor came to the pair that had set the new fighter off. He started to say a prayer for the dead, but then one of the bodies was moved from beneath it.

Bruenor crouched, wary, and realized a human child had been sheltered by this pair… and possibly might survive.

"Easy, little'un, easy," he said in Common, and moved the body off to find a wee child, small and scared with a scratch on her arm and not much else.

The parents had done well by this one, sad a thing as it was.

"C'mere, little'un, let me help ye," he said in a gentle voice, axe set aside so he could open his arms to her.

She hesitated, then moved to him, accepting the help. He hitched her on one hip, got his axe in the other hand, and looked toward where the goblins had fled.

The lone fighter was coming back, cloak pulled in tight against the wind that was picking up.

"Foe of gobs is good, but are ye friend of dwarf?" Bruenor called, not recognizing anything of the fighter.

"If the dwarf will allow, I choose friendship."

The voice was no help to identity, and Bruenor tipped his head.

"If'n ye saw the child, she's barely hurt."

The posture of the fighter changed, relief visible in the set of the shoulders before the fighter came near enough that Bruenor's eyes could see beneath the hood.

He almost cursed in shock, but the bairn was on his hip, and that would done no one good for the child to learn such so young.

The fighter noticed, and relief changed to weariness.

"I will go my way, good dwarf, rather than intrude," the fighter said in resignation.

What in all the forges was the world coming to, that Bruenor actually felt sorry for the fighter, seeing and hearing that.

"Not intrudin' when yer invited."

The dark face came back up, hope shining in eyes a color he'd never seen looking back at him.

"My gratitude."

He'd put the bairn with Auntie, who had a hand with children, having mothered pretty much the entire clan after their exile from the Hall. The drow, on the other hand, he'd tucked in a room as close to the surface as possible, asking him to wait while he saw to the clan, making certain they were all back in and safe.

Not a dwarf lost, but that might have been different, if the drow hadn't joined in.

He came to the door, which he'd told the fighter to close or leave open as he saw fit, and saw it was open, with the drow quietly cleaning his blades.

"Gave me a start, I admit, tae see a drow in the frozen north," Bruenor said as he came in. "And most would — what are ye wearing?!"

The fighter blinked as the dwarf fixed on the mail now showing beneath the cloak.

"My teacher gifted it to me, said it had been passed down through generations," the fighter said. "Made by dwarves of the Frost Hills, and she was insistent that if it ever needed it, I only let dwarves mend it. As I am what I am, the few times it has needed it, I have done the wiring myself."

Bruenor's eyes got misty, to hear the reverence, and he believed the tale. "Yer teacher's family must have done favor tae me clan at some point, drow, for that was forged in the Hall of me ancestors. Recognize the way of crafting the mithral, aye."

"I swear, good dwarf, that I wear it in honor, for her memory, and my own need to do good."

Bruenor nodded, then sat down to see to cleaning his own axe. "Bruenor Battlehammer, chieftain of the clan here, but we came from the Frost Hills."

"Drizzt Do'Urden, a long time removed from the Underdark, and most recently out of Luskan." The fighter's nose wrinkled. "Kept moving on, as I had no wish to be a wizard's curiosity. And the wilds are my home, anyway."

"Plenty of those here, Drizzt. But it's good tae have solid stone when the weather sets. I'll talk to me clan, but my gut says yer a good man."

"I try to be."

Having shelter, even if most of the dwarves were distrustful, was one less worry for Drizzt, even if living in stone was a reminder of lost people. More, the addition of the bairn Bruenor had rescued -- there was nowhere else for her to go -- was a distraction from the outright hostility of the locals.

Drizzt was far too accustomed to that, but could focus instead on caring for young Catti-brie alongside the gruff dwarf. Bruenor, for his part, was liking more and more of the drow he'd taken in, as the fighter was without peer, never really complained much, and was more than willing to take over certain duties on the surface that his own people grumbled over, like guarding the trade wagon or hunting.

Catti-brie was their bonding point, more than anything. Bruenor suspected his new ranger friend was much younger than the fighter cared to show. Keeping Drizzt protected from the worst of bigotry became a major point for him, when trade was needed, and he leveraged his monopoly on new weapons for the Ten Towns accordingly.

Catti had always respected her elf's privacy, but the blood smear near the elf's door had her worried. Drizzt had been gone for days, and Catti was scared for how much blood was trailed in.

She pushed into the room to see her elf had made it in, but not to the bed. Catti got one of the dwarf lamps open, just a little, and saw the bloody bandages and tattered pants along Drizzt's legs.

Something had made the elf fall in sharp rock or ice, based on that pattern.

Well, Catti knew how to handle cleaning and bandaging. She went to get Drizzt out of gear, working swiftly with dwarf-conditioned strength.

She didn't pause at all, leaving questions to later, when her elf was awake again.

Drizzt opened eyes to see very faint light from the dwarf lamp, the feeling of blankets, and a slightly smaller body laying on top of them.

"Catti?"

"Scared me, elf," she told him softly. "Set the young ones tae scrubbing yer trail, got you wrestled tae bed on me own, after getting you out of the frozen clothes.

"Och, donnae be flinching like that." Catti moved so she could meet Drizzt's eyes. "I'd never tell another soul. Ye have reasons, I'm sure."

"I don't mean to lie to you," Drizzt said.

"Ye didnae, me elf. Ye kept a secret, maybe, but it's fine. Now I can help ye keep it too, aye?"

Drizzt managed to get an arm around the girl and hugged her. "Thank you, my Cat."

Drizzt was out on the open tundra under the summer night skies when the feeling of something pulled him in a specific direction. Evgin had said to always follow that, that it meant Mielikki had something to be investigated.

Seeing a pair of drow was not exactly what Drizzt expected, and caution flared sharper than if they had been giants.

The pair noted him, and Drizzt thought it was a woman -- the robes were different, not spider embroidered -- and a man in a well-made piwafwi carrying a pair of swords.

As that detail registered, Drizzt felt a multitude of emotions, and dared have hope that maybe this was the family long ago lost.

"Drizzt?"

Now Drizzt was certain, but caution with drow was etched into memory, so Drizzt did not release sword hilts immediately. The pair were moving slowly in Drizzt's direction, and once their faces were clear, Drizzt did let go.

"Vierna? Father?"

They came together, with Vierna almost smothering Drizzt in an embrace that was fierce and loving, so at odds with the prickle of evil that etched on nerves honed to hunt such. When she let go, Zak engulfed Drizzt in a hug of his own, and that did not itch like the other one had.

"Come, both of you. I have an outlying cave I keep when I need away from my allies," Drizzt said. "The wind cannot be kind to either of you."

They seemed happy enough with this plan, following him to the Cairn and up to Drizzt's secondary home. They were pointed to the couch that would keep their eyes protected more from the brazier, as Drizzt got a fire started in the prepared coal.

Only once heat was provided for did Drizzt come back to them, eyes shining. They'd both been watching, evaluating, and apparently liked what they saw.

"How did you wind up in a frozen hell?! We came once before, months ago, but there was a storm," Vierna said.

Drizzt shrugged. "I wander. Only, about ten years ago, I came here, and found a new home with my allies, helping to raise an orphan."

Zak gave a snort. "Hell of a place to raise any child."

"We barely notice the weather in our caverns beneath the tundra," Drizzt said before studying Vierna. "I see no whip, no spiders." There was hope there, despite the frisson of evil that came off the priestess.

"Even when you lived with us, I was not truly Lloth's priestess, little sister," Vierna told Drizzt. "I serve Vhaeraun."

That got a head tilt, then a slow nod. "That's why you were willing to protect me. I have heard they do not like to kill other drow, but I am a nuisance to them. Or was, when I still lived where His followers sometimes came to the surface."

The 'little sister' felt strange, and yet... Drizzt was, for this priestess that had taught words.

"Shortly after we got you out of the city," Zak said, "the reasons we had done so were circling close to Vierna's deception being found. So we used a skirmish between houses to disappear and start over in a more Vhaeraunite city."

"I never wish to take that long a journey in the Underdark again," Vierna fussed for the memory, and Drizzt had to smile.

"I am pleased. It is easier to deal with you being His than the Spider Queen's," Drizzt said.

Vierna studied Drizzt a long moment, then asked, to get it out of the way. "Did you fall in with the Dark Maiden then?"

"No. I learned human gods, from my human teacher, and one of them chose me for Her ranger."

Vierna relaxed; that was not as bad as it might have been. "Good. I do not want to be at odds with you, now I have found you again."

"I would not like that. If you mean no harm to the wilds or my allies of the surface, we need not be at odds," Drizzt assured.

"Don't much care for the Surface, so that's an easy promise to make," Zak said, firmly, and Vierna nodded.

"So tell us everything, Drizzt, and let us know all about your life," Vierna invited, getting Drizzt to settle in on the couch between them.

Much as Drizzt preferred not to speak of the past or doings, that was not something to hedge on now, and the story began to unfold.

Bruenor menaced the Towns men with his axe, and Agorwal stepped down with him, over the fallen ranger.

"I can take him for healing," the spokesman said once the others had left.

"Nay, though it's a fine offer. We take care of our own, and the ranger is mine tae care for." He whistled and a pair of dwarves that were on recovery duty came quickly. "I'll let me elf know the offer was made."

Catti had long since told him the ranger mustn't go to the Towns for aid, and he stood by that, without pressing for why. He'd seen a few elves in his life, and suspected, but their healers -- and Catti herself -- would be able to tend Drizzt just fine in the safety of their home.

Drizzt sized up the barbarian boy, recognizing him as the standard bearer from the spying done before the battle. A year in the mines and forges had tempered the pride some, but Wulfgar still sneered at the idea of learning anything from a filthy drow.

"Catti-brie," Drizzt said quietly. "Tell your father I will not teach him."

Drizzt walked away, and the barbarian started to run his mouth. The echoing sound of Catti-brie smacking him hard with her own sheathed sword did not slow the drow's retreat.

"Ye be an idiot, Wulfgar. Me da will send ye back tae the mines now, instead of ye learning from the best fighter in all Icewind Dale."

Drizzt's smile was soft, hidden from the pair, as the boy was herded back down to the lower levels by Catti and the pair of dwarves — who both added insults for the boy's stupidity.

"Why'd ye do it?" Catti-brie asked, sitting still while Drizzt brushed her hair out for her.

"He was not ready to learn. The pride is diminished, but I would have had to truly trounce him, and even then, he would not have taken the lessons to heart."

"He's sulking now."

Drizzt nodded silently. "Tell Bruenor when you see him later, I will meet the boy again in three months. And we shall see."

Wulfgar kept his opinions behind his face, and Drizzt sized him up. The arms were larger, and there was more height.

"You use a hammer?"

"Yes," Wulfgar said, voice polite, if not warm.

"Then come. There is no space in here to practice as you need."

"I need — "

A warning look from Catti-brie had cut those words off, and Wulfgar silently followed to the outside, drinking in the stars above, the cold air, as if his life depended on them.

Drizzt turned, pulling scimitars from the belt after closing the sheaths to keep them covered. Catti-brie almost snickered, having come along, as Drizzt taught her with bare metal.

Then again, a hammer was hell on edges.

"Show me how you fight," Drizzt said, as Catti-brie sat on a rock nearby.

"Does the girl have to stay? It's not seemly."

Drizzt's eyes flashed. "That young woman is a more skilled fighter than you are, or will be, if you keep that attitude."

Catti-brie carefully kept her mouth shut, but oh she wanted Wulfgar laid out and shown just how much a woman could fight. Yet, that wasn't fair to even think in her mind. Drizzt, as a fighter, was as much a man by mindset as Wulfgar. She'd learned that when it came to gender, her elf was a little specific on when male or female applied.

Wulfgar charged then… and measured his height in the dusty terrain.

Drizzt had moved once.

The boy looked up… and came up ready to fight, only to repeat his fall.

This was going to take a while, if Wulfgar didn't learn to fight smartly.

"Not bad."

Three weeks to get to a point where Wulfgar could last the full length of a timed spar, and Catti-brie saw the young man glowing at those two words.

Drizzt had not tried to be Wulfgar's friend, hadn't done anything but teach every night, but Catti could see that Wulfgar respected her elf so much more.

"Again?" Wulfgar asked, hopeful to extend his time under the stars.

"Spar Catti-brie, and I'll keep the time."

Wulfgar paused, then set his feet for a new bout without protest.

Catti wanted to cheer, both for his new ability to keep his stupid opinions in his head, and for the chance to show she was a skilled fighter, Drizzt's personal student all her years since she'd first asked to learn.

Drizzt stepped away and let her take over.

Vierna petted Drizzt's hair, having steadily brushed it all out as they got the tale of what little sister had been up to.

"And in the end, I didn't have darkness available -- too tired -- so I dumped flour on it. That was the beginning of the end, with the wizard ultimately doing himself in."

"You hunted a dragon and fought an artifact, and ... yeah, I think even I would have been too tired to summon it," Zak admitted.

"Bruenor's fidgeting more now. I think he's going to start pushing to take up the quest for his Hall," Drizzt said. "If we do go, I'll use the sending stone you gave me to tell you I am not here."

"I won't like it," Vierna said. "But I'd like coming to a snow storm and you not being here far less."

Drizzt put the stone back in the pouch, while Catti-brie watched.

"Don't have tae worry about that one coming while yer gone?"

"No, my friend. I had already warned this would be likely, and Vierna accepted it."

Catti-brie went and wrapped around her elf. "Wishing I was coming with."

"I know, but Bruenor wants you to keep an eye on things here."

"Bah. Fender could manage."

Drizzt held Catti a long moment, privately agreeing, knowing she'd fret the whole time, but Bruenor would not be persuaded.

Drizzt's nerves had been prickling since Regis joined them. Luskan had not helped a bit.

Now, with the encounter at Nesmé, and being turned away from Silverymoon, Drizzt felt nothing but worry.

The appearance of the Lady of Silverymoon soothed wounded feelings, but did not put the fears to rest. There was nothing to do but move forward at this point.

Having Catti-brie directly threatened and terrorized had provoked a stronger feeling in Drizzt than ever before. Catti had been raised by them, and Drizzt looked on her as both a child and a student to cherish and protect.

It did not make it any easier to stare at the remains of the assassin, ashamed of how far emotion had pushed this fight.

Catti-brie pressed against Drizzt's back, trying to reassure, to make it better, but nothing really could.

Drizzt finally turned and wrapped around her, while the others watched.

This wasn't done yet, but Catti-brie was safe, the threat to Regis ended.

They would manage.

~We're staying south of the Spine, Vierna. A campaign is being planned. I will find a quiet place to show you for teleports.~

~You don't sound well, so make that soon, little sister.~

Drizzt put the sending stone away, and rolled over on the bedroll, watching the others sleep. They had a lot of work ahead of them, but Drizzt knew one thing.

This was family, the one that mattered, and they would get through it all together.

More Personal Challenges (1,577 words)

Drizzt had made it through the entire campaign without a soul wiser about the secret carried. The ranger had reason to be grateful for healing potions, as the dragon's claws had torn through the mithral sleeve and left an arm useless.

That Drizzt had only been that close in order to save one of the wizards in the fight had made the ranger's reputation grow immensely.

Now, having found an outer cave that suited, Drizzt practiced with the arm to regain full mobility and strength.

Vierna was watching, with Zaknafein as Drizzt's sparring partner.

"How many duergar?" Zak asked.

"Hundreds, if not over a thousand," Drizzt answered, focusing on using the injured arm as the dominant one.

"A shadow dragon and two shadow hounds on top of that," Zak said, still impressed by the tale of the battle. He almost regretted not accepting the invitation to come join the campaign.

"Guen accounted for one of the latter," Drizzt said proudly. "And my blow that landed before the dragon tore my arm was credited as the turning point in that fight."

"Well done," Zak praised. "But next time figure out how to do it without the injury?"

Drizzt laughed brightly, and pushed an advantage in the fight. Zaknafein's pride was only growing as they sparred, seeing this child excel.

The biggest challenge after the dragon was far more personal.

Drizzt had, by the Lady's own invitation, begun to visit Silverymoon, a treasure that left the ranger speechless at times. It was one thing to have been accepted by an exiled clan of dwarves in a hostile region.

This was something far different, and made all the worse by flutters of feelings inside Drizzt's awareness where the Lady was concerned.

~You're feeling attraction, little sister,~ was Vierna's verdict after three nights of sending the conflicted nature of these new sensations and feelings. ~And if this wizard plays with your heart, or worse, I will kill her most painfully.~

~She will not have the chance to, as that is not something I am meant for.~

Whether Vierna would have more to say on that the next night or not, Drizzt knew it for truth.

Alustriel Silverhand knew Drizzt Do'Urden, ranger of Mielikki, as a man. Drizzt would not let that illusion fail, either, even as the ranger yearned for the kind of shared closeness that was growing between Catti and Wulfgar.

Meeting Kolarven, Knight in Silver, was a revolutionary moment for Drizzt. The half-elf was accepted as being other than man or woman, used gender neutral pronouns, and was as likely to be in skirts as pants when not in armor.

Drizzt wasn't ready to be that way, not truly, as gender was a brutal dichotomy for the ranger. Sister for Vierna, fighter and male to nearly everyone else of note, and Evgin's words came back.

All I need to know is what you mean to be seen as, and what you let people know you are.

Could Drizzt trust Alustriel as far as needed to share the secret? Why was this so much a mess inside heart and head?

Drizzt decided that leaving, traveling for a time, might help ease the chaos, and make the path clearer.

Silverymoon was an interesting sight to come back to as the first snows had fallen. All around the countryside, snow covered everything, yet only the faintest dusting lay on the city itself. Drizzt entered through the gate that allowed the quickest access to the Glade, as there was a small fortune to donate.

"Ranger!" the squire there called gladly, beaming with delight, and it hit Drizzt in the chest for the sincerity of it.

"Greetings, Squire Nellora."

The half-elf smiled even more broadly for the use of the name, waving the ranger on through.

Nor was she the last, as 'Ranger' rang out from several throats, and Drizzt wondered at it. The time spent here earlier in the year had been brief enough, it felt like, and even that the wizard saved during the fight was one of Alustriel's sons could not account for it.

Inside the Glade, though, with that dusting of white on the sleeping trees, Drizzt knew for a fact the city was home. Here was the greatest peace and feeling of belonging, after all. Drizzt did not hurry, once the treasure was in a collection basket near the altar, taking time to savor the peace.

It would be needed, if the Lady was as welcoming in her palace as the people in the city.

Alustriel came to the room Drizzt was in, the one Natali had been holding empty for their favorite ranger.

Drizzt opened the door, and the sheer joy in Alustriel's smile made it hard to breathe.

"Come in?"

She did, and Drizzt sat at the other end of the divan in there with her.

"I've missed you," Alustriel said softly. "And I've been worried that something I, or one of my people, did is why you chose to leave for so long this time."

Drizzt gave a head shake at that. "I needed time to think, to decide what I should do, going forward, as I have been … at odds with myself, here, with you."

She sat a little straighter, concern on her face now. "What is it, my friend? I would not have you be uncomfortable in my home at all. How can I help?"

Drizzt's eyes closed, and when they opened again, the drow reached for one of her hands.

"My name given when I was born was Dreeza," Drizzt began. "And like all drow nobles, my fate was set by what I was born as. I was to be a cleric of Lloth."

Alustriel's eyes widened, but she said nothing, only shifting to where she could better hold on to the offered hand.

"My sister who was raising me, saw the pain that came in the most simple prayers and songs. She, with the aid of my father, managed to fake that I had died, and I was put in the care of Bregan D'aerthe, the mercenary band.

"It was their leader, Jarlaxle, who offered me the name Drizzt, and the way to hide. It was he, after my father said it was necessary, who got me out of the city. And I believe father when he swears Jarlaxle never meant for me to be caught by slavers.

"Things I saw then reinforced that I needed to hide what I was born as. And it was firmly in my head that boys were fighters."

Drizzt paused, and Alustriel moved then, to sit beside the ranger, tucking the smaller drow close.

"I care not what body you were born to, Drizzt. You are my friend."

Drizzt's body went a little stiff, feeling a rejection in the making of those words, one that precluded the possible futures imagined.

"Lady," and the emotions roughened Drizzt's voice. "If it is but friendship, I will accept that, and ask that you not let my admission to you color the future."

"Oh." The soft sound was a prelude to Alustriel leaning her head down against that snow-white cloud of hair. "I'd made myself accept that friendship was all you wished, that you leaving was a way of stilling the interests I had."

Drizzt turned to look up at her, hope coming back for those words. "Lady?"

"Alustriel, please, my ranger," she chided before she slowly leaned in and placed the lightest kiss on Drizzt's lips.

Lavender eyes fluttered close as the sensations swept in again, reminding Drizzt of all the ways Alustriel could affect mind and body in such close proximity.

Still — more words were needed.

"I see Kolarven, and they help me understand better that it is not just men and women in the world, and that hard division," Drizzt said quietly. "I am still Vierna's sister, a man in the eyes of the world… and I am content to have it be that way.

"Does this… bother you?"

Alustriel gave a gentle smile. "No, my ranger. It does not. Let the world see a man at my side. We can learn what you wish in private, together, hmm?"

Drizzt let out a long breath, then pressed up to give her a kiss, deciding that this was the right path for them.

As the ranger settled back, Alustriel gave a little laugh. "You do realize, if you wish to try the full experience of a man… I could arrange that?"

Drizzt was startled into a laugh, before they were kissing again. It was not in the least tempting, Drizzt realized, accepting that body and perception really didn't have to match to be whole.

And now there was more to learn about the body, as Alustriel's kisses were proving.

Vierna shook her head as she settled back from the sendings with her little sister.

"What did Drizzt do this time?" Zak asked.

"Drizzt is now the lover of the ruler of that city," Vierna said. "And … is very happy for how it turned out."

Zak's eyebrow went up a moment, then he shrugged. "Drizzt knows we'll flay the woman alive if anything goes wrong?"

Vierna started laughing brightly, nodding. "I promised it."

"Good. Have to make sure both my children are safe and happy, after all."

"You always have, as best you could," Vierna told him, before settling back to studying.

How far they had all come from Menzoberranzan, and a child who could not say her prayers.

A Pair of Letters (492 words)

Correspondence time was sometimes vexing, sometimes refreshing. Today, Alustriel found herself oddly touched and amused, all in one.

The letters, two of them to be exact, had been in her correspondence from outside the city. One was addressed to the archmage of Silverymoon, and the other to A. Silverhand. The seals... those had sparked curiosity at first.

She had seen the complex sigil that was the Do'Urden seal once, on a different letter sent to Drizzt, just before he had vanished to tend to something, coming back looking faintly singed around the edges.

She decided to break the seal on the more formally addressed one, and was not surprised that her guess was correct in that it was from the sister that had put in motion Drizzt's freedom.

To the Archmage Alustriel Silverhand.

It has become apparent that my sister has become caught up in your well-being and affairs. I wish you to understand that if harm comes to her because of your personal choices, I will find a way to take vengeance.

The welfare of my sister is tantamount, and I am told you hold family just as dear. Please do keep that in mind.

Vierna Do'Urden, Silent Sable, Skullport

Alustriel carefully folded the letter back, weighing the best response. She was actually touched, in an odd way, as the fact Drizzt's sister had reached out did reinforce the fact that the cleric did love her sibling truly.

Drizzt had stated that for her, sister was the correct term, so Alustriel did not take offense on the behalf of her ranger. She would need to find the right words to soothe the woman's fears -- Drizzt was more than capable of finding danger and trouble on his own without Alustriel's influence, after all.

She opened the other letter, just to confirm her suspicion on the contents. The handwriting here was more precise, less flourished, as one would expect from a no-nonsense warrior.

Silverhand, which confirmed the writer. Of course Drizzt's father would be that informal, on purpose, to a powerful woman. It was a piece of his freedom.

That's my child you've taken as a lover. Don't do anything stupid.

I will find out if you do. And it will end poorly for you.

Zaknafein.

Short, to the point, and in a very strange way, heartwarming, Alustriel decided.

She noted the use of 'child' rather than a gendered term, and thought that was appropriate. Gender for her ranger was far more complex after all than even what Kolarven expressed, being entirely situational.

She drew a sheet to her, and began her replies to each of the Do'Urdens. She would have to have one of her sons or Laeral make certain it reached the pair, to maintain discretion, for all their sakes.

And she just might see if her ranger could arrange for her to meet the unusual drow, who despite alignment of the sister, still loved and protected their good family member.

senmut

Tales of the Companions (932 words) by

senmut
Chapters: 1/1
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Canon-typical violence and behavior
Characters: Catti-brie, Bruenor Battlehammer, Drizzt Do'Urden, Wulfgar son of Beornegar,Bruenorson son of Wulfgar
Additional Tags: Drabble/Ficlet collection
Summary:

A collection of the Companions in various moments

Five ficlets under cut

Bruenor Battlehammer had taken his dwarves to the fight because it had been right… and goblins were always good to smash.

Now, though, he had a pickle of a situation, having found a girl among the bodies that was still alive.

Sure, there was more of Ten Towns with all their humans. Mayhaps the girl would find a place among them.

He looked down at the bairn in his arms, axe leaned against a smoldering wood pile for the moment.

Did he want that for her? No. She'd just lost her kin, her home, and seen it happen. He might only be able to remember the flight from the Hall in his nightmares, mostly, but he knew what she was going through.

It couldn't be that much harder raising a human girl, could it?

She should have other survivors, ones as had lost things pieces of their own lives. He couldn't condemn her to being little more than a servant to greedy men fleeing their own pasts because of wicked deeds.

No, he'd keep her.

That decided, Bruenor shifted her into one arm, tucked tight to himself, grabbed the axe, and headed back to his own caverns with his people.

"Wish there was a yeti. Or a frost giant," Bruenor griped. He irritably swiped his weapon sideways, cleaving a drift and making snow dump on the nearly cleared track they followed.

"You, my friend, merely wish an excuse to not go to the Towns' meet." The dark-skinned, cloaked ranger looked at the dwarf in amusement. "You're still in uproar over the delegation, aren't you?"

For answer, Bruenor muttered dark imprecations over the breeding habits of humans and the ancestry of one in particular.

"Me daughter's no trading asset!" the dwarf roared. His voice was answered by a resounding yowl and roar from the nearby hills, making the dwarf light up.

"It seems we have your wish," Drizzt said, as the pair of friends changed direction to go deal with the unseen monster.

"Watch yer blank, not the hammer! If'n ye don't know where the hammer'll land, you've got no right to be forgin'," Bruenor snapped at the barbarian youth. "Ye keep eyes on the metal, so you see the stresses and the impurities, should there be any."

"This is not the work of my people," Wulfgar muttered darkly… and felt the smack of a hand on the back of his head. His only consolation was that the dwarf had to stand on a stool to oversee the work and reach like that.

"Maybe if'n it was, yer people wouldna come up against Ten Towns with such piss poor weapons," Bruenor told him.

Instead of retorting, Wulfgar thought on that. It was true that Ten Towns' militia-folk were outfitted better than many towns could hope, though they traded dear for it. Bruenor's people were not charitable where trade was concerned, and knew how to get fair price.

"Maybe you have a point," he conceded.

Bruenor hid his smile in his beard; the lad was learning, and maybe when the boy's apprenticeship was up, there would be good to come of it.

Then again, maybe Bruenor was getting too rosy-eyed in his old age.

"Ye best be thinking something else," Catti-brie warned with mock ferocity.

Regis looked at her sheepishly, then shrugged. "I'd not even be able to hold it steady to fit an arrow to the string," he admitted. "So of what use would it be to me?"

"Bribe to a drow, mayhaps?" she asked, just to watch him flush brightly, his reddened cheeks matching ears and nose now. She came and crouched in front of him. "Regis, if it is true a dark elf seeks ye, trust in your friends, not stealing, to keep you safe."

He nodded, chastened and reassured again.

Lavender eyes gleamed with the impossible odds, as this band had him surrounded, complete with two winter wolves baying for his blood.

Drizzt had come to escape losses, and forgotten the first rule of the Far North, that the winds could deceive even his sensitive ears in these passes.

The verbeeg were aware that numbers and terrain favored them. As the first one advanced, a familiar blur of motion slammed into that one's chest, before vanishing back to the hand of the one that wielded it.

"Go, or die. The ranger is under protection of the Tribe of the Elk," a strong voice boomed, not quite the sound of one Drizzt had known.

A flicker of attention back, and Drizzt saw five warriors of that tribe, one with Aegis-fang in hand now.

A winter wolf lunged, and the battle commenced, but with much more even odds. Drizzt fought alongside the Uthgardt, until not a giant-kind nor a winter wolf breathed. Then, he could truly see his rescuers.

"Bruenorson, son of Wulfgar," the wielder of Aegis-Fang introduced. "And you are Drizzt Do'Urden, friend of my father."

"Well-met, King Bruenorson," Drizzt said. "I leave the spoils to your people."

"Come to stay with us in our hunting camp, for you are known to us, and we remember those that made it possible for my father's blood to rule," the king said, even as he flicked a hand for the others to pick over the corpses.

"I would like that, and to hear of Wulfgar's line," Drizzt agreed, moving to the wolves. Their pelts could be his project, while he remained in the Far North, unless the tribesmen wished them.

"We have much to share, for my father was a bold man all the way to his death."

"How could he be otherwise?"

Current Mood: tired
Current Music: "Groovin'" - The Young Rascals

somariel

A Multiplicity of Crossings (10,378 words) by somariel
Chapters: 3/3
Other Fandoms: Wheel of Time
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Warnings Apply
Relationship: Alustriel Silverhand/Sharrevaliir, Alustriel Silverhand/Drizzt Do’Urden
Characters: Alustriel Silverhand, Drizzt Do’Urden, Sharrevaliir, Laeral Silverhand, Korvallen Senahye, Bruenor Battlehammer, Bright Eyes, Ensemble Cast
Additional Tags: Fusion, Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Developing Relationship
Series: Part 11 of A Crossing of the Realms
Summary:

My brain dropped on me the idea of merging the fics "Impossible Connections" and "Ranger and Pegasus" and the fic series "SharrSapphire" and "The Ranger and the Wheel". This is the result.

Beginning notes

As this fic is a merging of multiple AUs, I highly recommend making sure you are familiar with the following fics and series before reading it:

senmut’s solo fic Impossible Connections,

senmut and

ilyena_sylph’s fic Ranger and Pegasus, the entirety of their series The Ranger and the Wheel, their series SharrSapphire through “The Sapphire’s Secret”, my fics SharrSapphire in the Wheel and Soulmarks in the Wheel, and my series Ranger and Pegasus in the Wheel.

Additionally, this fic contains a small amount of borrowing from “The Sapphire’s Secret” and my fic “Becoming with a Pegasus”, and somewhat more borrowing from some of the fics in the series “The Ranger and the Wheel”, as well as from my fic “Soulmarks in the Wheel” (which in and of itself contains borrowing from some of the fics in “The Ranger and the Wheel).

Chapter One: Beginnings

1324 DR, spring

Waking one day, some twenty-six years since Sharr had gone missing, to find she now had a second soulmark was not a welcome shock for Alustriel. Her mark for Sharr was still as clear as it had always been, so she at least did not have to worry about that, but it was hard for her to imagine any new relationship going well when Sharr’s uncertain status would almost certainly cast a shadow over it.

And she was also somewhat concerned about how Del and Korvallen would react to such a relationship—Del because of how young he had been when Sharr went missing, and Korvallen because of how strong his feelings for Sharr were.

Nevertheless, that night, she told her sisters and her sons about the new mark, sharing her vision so they could see what it looked like, and asking them to keep an eye out for anyone who might be her second soulmate.

1333 DR, early spring

Andy had been thinking hard about how to bring up with his mother what he had glimpsed during his lesson with Drizzt earlier in the day, and had come to the conclusion that it would be best to be fairly straightforward about it.

So that night, when their conversation came around to Drizzt, as it usually did on the days that the ranger had had lessons with him, Andy said, “I saw something rather interesting during today’s lesson.”

“Another sign of how much Mielikki favors Drizzt?” Alustriel asked. “Or was it something else?”

“Something else,” Andy replied. “His sleeve fell back while he was reaching to stroke Bright Eyes’s head, and I caught a glimpse of a silver mark on the inside of his wrist.”

“Well, drow do scar silver, but I’m guessing you don’t think it is one.”

“Can’t be one. It’s positioned right on the tendons, and is big enough that such an injury would have impaired his use of that hand. Add that to the fact that he uses twin scimitars…”

“You think he might be my second soulmate,” Alustriel said.

“I do.”

1335 DR, summer

It had been nine long weeks since Laeral had informed her that Drizzt Do’Urden was indeed her second soulmate, but her sister and the ranger were finally done with their journey into the elan-lands and Laeral had teleported the two of them, and Bright Eyes, to Silverymoon this morning.

And now, having changed out of her evenfeast gown into something more casual, Alustriel was heading to Laeral’s rooms—as those were more neutral ground than her own—to properly meet Drizzt.

A knock on the door when she arrived at them got her permission to enter, and when she stepped into the outer room, she was quite pleased to see that Laeral had set things up so that Drizzt could choose which of them he wanted to sit with, while still allowing for easy conversation—the divans had been arranged so they were facing each other, and Laeral and Drizzt were currently seated on one, close to, but not directly beside, each other.

Taking a seat on the other divan, Alustriel looked to Laeral to see if her sister was going to start things off, or if she should.

Laeral smiled at her, then said, “Drizzt, this is my sister, Alustriel Silverhand. Alustriel, this is Drizzt Do’Urden, rider of Bright Eyes.”

“I am very pleased to finally meet you, Drizzt,” Alustriel said, “and for more reasons than just that you are my soulmate, as Andy told me much of you while you were taking lessons with him three years ago.”

“It’s good to meet you too,” Drizzt replied. “And Laeral mentioned that your entire family has been intrigued by me since then, so I’m not surprised by that.

“Though I will readily admit that I’m still uncertain how I feel about you being my soulmate.”

“Because I am Andy’s mother, and he is your friend, or is it because I am a woman with power?”

“The second.”

Alustriel did not sigh, though she very much wanted to. Thankfully, she had anticipated that this might be an issue, and taken steps to mitigate it. “I suspected that might be the case, and have had some long talks with Qilué since Laeral told me that you are my soulmate. And I will say, right now, that if anything I do or say makes you uncomfortable, please tell me. I can’t stop doing whatever it is if I don’t know it’s making you feel like that.”

The conversation rambled somewhat from there, as the two of them got to know each other, with Laeral contributing anecdotes and tales that hopefully helped make Drizzt’s image of her more grounded and approachable. And eventually, when Drizzt mentioned that his Ogier sister had been the one to explain to him what soulmarks were, Alustriel found the opportunity to bring up the matter of Drizzt not being her only soulmate.

“Did Lindsar ever say anything to you about the possibility of multiple soulmarks?”

Drizzt blinked twice, then looked at her quizzically. “No, she didn’t. That’s actually something that can happen?”

“Only among long-lived peoples, but yes,” Alustriel answered. “And I’m bringing it up now because I have two soulmarks.”

“I… can I see?” Drizzt asked.

“Of course.” Alustriel pulled back her sleeve and showed the inside of her wrist to him.

Drizzt looked at the marks for a bit, then nodded. “The scimitar-like one is clearly for me, but what is the other one, and who does it represent?”

“It’s the ancient elven glyph for ‘knowledge’. Sharr—Sharrevaliir, in full—was the Lorekeeper for the elves of the High Forest.”

“Was?” Drizzt tilted his head thoughtfully. “That makes it sound like he’s dead, but Lindsar said that soulmarks fade once the person they represent has died, and there wouldn’t have been any reason for you to bring up multiple soulmarks if that was the case.

“So what happened to him?”

“We still don’t know for certain,” Alustriel said, “but he’s been missing for nearly four decades.” She went on to explain the events that had led to such a situation, ending with, “…and the only reasons we’re sure he’s still alive are because my soulmark hasn’t faded and the Warder bond is still intact.”

“I hope he is found soon,” Drizzt said. “I would very much like to meet him myself.”

The next evening, Drizzt was somewhat more comfortable with Alustriel, enough so that she was willing to risk asking about what his life had been like before he came to the surface. Thankfully, he did not have a problem with telling her about it, though she frequently found herself horrified by what he was saying and had to expend a good bit of effort to not let that horror affect her reactions to him.

And then he mentioned that he had not yet finished his schooling when he was dumped on the surface, which, combined with Andy’s previous estimate of his age, left her curious.

“Your pardon, Drizzt,” she said, “but Andy was quite certain, when he met you three years ago, that you weren’t even fifty then. So I find myself wishing to know exactly how old you are.”

Drizzt blinked twice, wondering why it mattered—and surprised that neither Laeral nor Qilué had told her—but he answered the question readily. “Thirty-eight.”

Swiftly back-calculating his age at the time of the Blight push, Alustriel was not pleased by the result. “So you would have been twenty-eight or twenty-nine when the Blight push occurred?”

“Twenty-nine, yes.”

“You weren’t even of age by Lolthite standards, and your teacher took you to that?!” Alustriel knew that silverfire was sparking in her eyes as she spoke, but she couldn’t quite manage to care. The forced maturity of Lolthite society was upsetting enough, but that goodly people had allowed Drizzt to participate in an event as harrowing as she had heard the Blight push had been, when he hadn’t even been an adult in the eyes of the people he was born to, was infuriating!

Drizzt was fascinated by the manifestation of the silverfire he was seeing now, not having realized that it could happen outside of deliberate use, but then he was distracted by a warm spot developing on his chest. Reaching up to touch the magical sapphire he wore around his neck, he confirmed that that was the source of the warmth, and a quick look down confirmed that the stone wasn’t glowing, making this the second time it had reacted to silverfireby growing warm, but not glowing. That was something that would have to be investigated, but first, he needed to defend Aronna's decision—and probably Lindsar’s as well.

“Neither Aronna nor Lindsar were pleased that I insisted on leaving the stedding so young,” he said, “but they could both see how strong my need to explore and actually use my skills to defend others was.”

Alustriel sighed. If that need had been anything like the chafing Del had felt over the village’s smothering before Samiar took him as an apprentice, she could understand why the women hadn’t protested his leaving more strongly. But still… “Was it really necessary for your first true actions as a ranger to be at the Blight push, though?”

“Perhaps not. Lindsar was certainly not happy when she found out Aronna had brought me to it. But Aronna had wanted to go, even when she thought that she would have to miss it due to teaching me, and if we had not gone, I would not have become a Dreadbane. And bearing that title has eased my way just as much as—if not more than—the Ogier motifs on my faceguard and scimitars.”

“That… is a reasonable point,” Alustriel reluctantly agreed.

Turning his attention to Laeral, and cradling the sapphire in his hand, Drizzt said, “To change the subject entirely, I think you need to take a look at this gem, my friend.”

“Oh?” Laeral said. “What makes you say that?”

“This was the second time it reacted to silverfire by growing warm, without glowing—the first was when you and Qilué removed the shroud from me. And maybe I’m being overly suspicious because of what my soulmark is, but while I was willing to ignore such once, that it has now happened twice makes me wish to have it investigated.”

“I don’t think you’re being overly suspicious at all,” Laeral said. “That is definitely worth investigating. Unfortunately, I don’t have any of the necessary spells memorized today, so it’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

Analysis of the sapphire had proved it to be a soul trap, but between needing to find someone with gemstone tools to break the stone, arranging a room in the Spellguard Tower to use for the breaking, Laeral and Taern's caution regarding the alignment of the trapped soul, and Alustriel’s desire to be present for the breaking, it was not until lunchtime the following day that they were actually ready to break it.

The first blow only shattered a spell that had been on the stone, but the second one broke the stone. A bright flash of blue light brought the smell of a spring day in the forest, and when the light faded, a full-blooded elf in hunting armor with ornate patterns was there.

“Sharr?!” The cry came from three voices simultaneously, Laeral, Alustriel, and Taern all not believing their eyes at first, though Alustriel could feel that the Warder bond was fully open again, as she was buffeted by a wash of emotions not her own.

“A little less loud, please,” the elf said, his own senses trying to take in everything now that he had eyes and ears and a nose, not just moments of consciousness and detection.

“Sorry,” Taern said.

Laeral and Alustriel, however, just continued to stare. He… that was Sharr, in the armor he’d disappeared from that battlefield in, the proper ceremonial armor for a Lorekeeper in a ritual hunt. And then, having wrestled down the flood of both her emotions and his, Alustriel all but threw herself at him.

“I… stars, you… you’re here, you…” Alustriel knew she was not really coherent as she wrapped her arms around her beloved tightly, but she couldn’t find it in her to care at the moment.

“I am, my star, I am,” Sharr murmured, returning the embrace just as tightly.

Laeral had sent to her nephews and shared her vision with them while Alustriel and Sharr were still embracing tightly in the first rush of emotional reaction to their reunion, but once both of them were willing to break the embrace, she and Taern had corralled the two of them—and Drizzt, too—back to Alustriel’s rooms.

Taern had then gone to speak to Alustriel’s secretary about rescheduling everything for the next few days, and while Laeral had stayed a bit longer—mostly to make sure Drizzt didn’t feel like he wanted her support—she was now on her way to the Knights’ wing of the Palace to find Korvallen.

Asking the squire on duty had gotten her directed to Korvallen’s quarters, and the door opened soon after she gave a brisk knock.

“Laeral?” Korvallen said, feeling a bit puzzled. “Is something wrong?” He hoped not, but he was not sure what else might have caused her to seek him out.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” Laeral answered. “It would even be fair to say that something has gone very, very right, but Alustriel does need you.”

“Alright.” Korvallen stepped out of his rooms, then closed and locked the door before moving to follow Laeral.

Quickly recognizing that Laeral was leading him to Alustriel’s rooms, that left him free to wonder what Laeral had meant by ‘something has gone very, very right’ and why Alustriel would need him if that was true.

He hadn’t managed to reach any reasonable conclusions by the time they reached Alustriel’s rooms, so he set his puzzling aside, knowing that he would soon find out anyway.

A knock on the door got a response of “Come in”, so he opened it and stepped into the outer room of the suite. And then, as soon as the door was no longer obstructing his sight of the room, he stopped dead. That was… Sharr? In the armor he had been wearing on the hunt where he disappeared? And a drow? Sitting on the other side of Alustriel from Sharr? He reached up to rub his eyes, but the bewildering sight remained. “Sharr? Drow? What in the Abyss?”

Alustriel sighed. “No, you’re not imagining things, Kor. Sharr is here, and there is a drow sitting beside me.” Giving her sister a mildly annoyed look, she added, “Though Laeral really should have warned you.”

“I thought it was only fair for him to be as surprised as we were,” Laeral said, amusement in her voice.

“And yet you didn’t mention Drizzt, either.”

“Sisterly wrangling later,” Sharr said, placing a hand on Alustriel’s shoulder. “Right now, Kor needs an explanation.

“Alright,” Alustriel said. “Do come sit down, Kor.”

Kor came over and sat down on the unoccupied divan—Laeral taking a seat beside him—before saying “So explain.”

The explanation given—Alustriel having multiple soulmarks, the drow being her second soulmate, a magical sapphire that reacted to silverfire and turned out to be a soul trap, Sharr having been the one inside the soul trap—did not do much to reduce Korvallen’s bewilderment, but he knew that once he’d gotten over the multiple shocks he’d had, it would be easier to absorb and work through everything.

The city had reacted to learning of Sharr’s return by throwing a spontaneous festival, and between that and reunions with his loved ones, it was nearly two weeks later before Sharr truly had any quiet time to himself, but once things settled down, he made a point of seeking Drizzt out during the times Alustriel was occupied by her duties as a ruler, in order to get to know the ranger beyond the impressions he had gotten while still trapped within the sapphire, and so the ranger could get to know him.

He had only had to spar with Drizzt once to confirm that the ranger was indeed as highly skilled as his impressions had suggested, and after Drizzt had beaten Kolarven as well, Sharr was able to convince Korvallen to spar with the ranger. That match had left everyone quite impressed with Drizzt’s skill, and Korvallen had taken it on himself to improve the ranger’s single-blade techniques.

Sharr had also fairly quickly realized that Drizzt was much younger than his skill would suggest, and after learning the ranger’s actual age, was quite relieved that Drizzt and Alustriel had agreed to take things slowly.

As time passed, Sharr and Korvallen settled into a routine of spending spring and summer in the village, and fall and winter in Silverymoon. (Officially, Korvallen had been given a permanent assignment to protect Sharr when Sharr wasn’t in the city, but everyone knew that it was just an acknowledgment of what he’d be doing anyway.)

But even with that routine, Sharr still made a point of coming up to Silverymoon for at least a few days every time Drizzt visited the city, to continue the progress of him and Drizzt getting to know each other better.

Korvallen usually came with him, to spar with Drizzt and continue the ranger’s training in single-blade techniques, and Sharr eventually noticed that Drizzt seemed to find those spars and lessons to be almost exhilarating.

Asking the young drow about it one evening produced a surprising answer. “Korvallen reminds me of the House’s Weapon Master, back in Menzoberranzan,” Drizzt said. “He is the only person on the surface that I have ever met who would be able to give the Weapon Master a true challenge. And the joy of facing the Weapon Master and being pushed is literally the only thing I have ever missed of that city.

“To be able to know something like that again, and with one who shares many of my values? It is a true delight.”

Chapter Two: Moving Forward

1347 DR

Sharr and Andy abruptly stopping their conversation and getting the distant look that Korvallen knew meant they were talking over Alustriel’s anklets was not a good sign. So when both of them lost the distant look and refocused on him, he was ready for whatever the bad news was.

Or at least, he had thought he was. But Andy’s report of “Drizzt has a large Shadowspawn army incoming, up at the Reghed Glacier, and needs all the clerics we can get up there by dawn, as well as as many of our family as can come, for magical assistance” was significantly more trouble than Kor had been expecting.

And a single look at Sharr showed that he was going to need to head off some more. “You are not going,” Kor told his brother of the heart.

“But-”

“No. You’re bonded to Alustriel; Drizzt isn’t. And taking the risk of her losing both of you up there isn’t worth it.”

Sharr sighed heavily. “You have a point,” he agreed reluctantly.

Turning his attention to Andy, Kor said, “You teleporting up?”

“I am.”

“Then I’m going with you.”

Once the battle was finally over and he’d done at least a basic check of his people, Bruenor set Lespur and Fender to doing a more thorough check and making sure someone got some stew started, then went looking for Drizzt.

He’d been wandering the battlefield, calling for his friend, for long enough that he was starting to get a bit concerned, when he noticed a pegasus following a pair of people off the battlefield. One of them had dark hair, and looked like they were wearing plate armor, but the other had Drizzt’s pale hair and green cloak.

Bruenor hurried to catch up to the group, wondering which of the southerners the other person was.

He didn’t manage to do so before they left the battlefield, but he had at least gotten close enough to see that Drizzt was leaning on the dark-haired person.

The group’s pace had picked up slightly once they were out of the battlefield, so even once Bruenor had made his way out, he still didn’t manage to catch up to them until after they had reached the southerners’ camp.

“…any idea how risky that was?!” the dark-haired person—an elf, by the ears—was saying as Bruenor got within earshot of them. “It could very easily have ended with you being impaled by both of them, instead of the Fades impaling each other! I know better than to assume you weren’t thinking at all, but I’d love to know what you were thinking!”

The strange elf was scolding Drizzt like he was a child?! And his friend was just sitting there and taking it?! Bruenor’s temper roused and he stomped up to the southerner already bristling with anger.

“Where'd ye get off with scoldin’ me friend like that?!” he snapped. “Weren’t fer him, the entire Dale would’ve been overrun by that army!”

The elf turned to face Bruenor, his own face twisting up into a scowl, but before he could actually say anything, Bright Eyes stepped between them and gave an annoyed snort.

The look on the elf’s face shifted from a scowl to consideration, and then he opened his mouth anyway, but a shove from Bright Eyes made him snap it shut without saying anything. But before Bruenor could feel too pleased with things, the pegasus shoved him, too.

“Thank you, Bright Eyes,” Drizzt said. Turning to look at the elf, he said, “Korvallen, would you mind going to get me something to eat while I reassure my friend here?”

The elf—Korvallen, apparently—gave Drizzt a long look, cast another at Bruenor, then turned a considering one on Bright Eyes, who had started preening her wings, before sighing and saying, “Alright. But we will be resuming this conversation later.”

A sharp look from Drizzt and Bright Eyes both kept Bruenor from saying anything while the elf walked away, but once he was fairly certain the elf was out of earshot, he turned to Drizzt and said, “Why were ye just lettin’ him scold ye like that?! Ye’re no’ a child tae be scolded and sent tae bed wi'out supper!”

“Peace, my friend,” Drizzt replied. “Korvallen truly meant me no harm.”

“Harm or no’, he had nae right tae be scoldin’ ye like a child!”

“Actually, he does.”

Bruenor gave a disbelieving snort at that, but Drizzt was already continuing. “As not only is he close kin of a sort, he is keenly aware that had I been born in any goodly elven community, I would be barely more than halfway to being considered an adult, and he has many nephews—all older than I am—who have honed his protective instincts. Perhaps overly so, I will admit, but I find that preferable to the opposite.”

Bruenor considered his friend’s words carefully. Alright, if all that was true, then maybe the elf did have that right. “How’d a surface elf come tae be kin of any sort tae ye, beyond the most general?” That was the one thing in all of that that made no sense to him.

Drizzt pulled back his sleeve and showed Bruenor the inside of his wrist, where there was a mark of a silver flame sitting right on the tendons. “Through this.”

Well, that was surely a soulmark, no matter that Bruenor had never seen one before. But… “Nae way he’s yer soulmate, so ye’d better give the full explanation, me elf.”

“You’re right, he’s not; the Lady Alustriel is my soulmate. But Korvallen is brother-of-the-heart to her other soulmate.”

Knowing Drizzt’s tendency to downplay his fatigue when there were still threats to be dealt with, Korvallen insisted on staying with Bo and Laeral to find whatever it was that the ranger had been drawn up to Icewind Dale to deal with.

And while actually finding the damned thing had been easy enough, that it had tried to ensnare both Drizzt and Bo had been worrying enough before Laeral identified it as Crenshinibon.

Once that was known, Korvallen flatly refused to leave Drizzt’s side until it had been dealt with. Or at least, that had been his intent.

But between seeing that Drizzt really was taking it easy during the few days they spent in Shadowdale while Elminster, Syluné, and Laeral worked to figure out how to destroy the crystal, and knowing that Drizzt and Laeral would have to wait for an entire week for Valamaradace to get to where they were going to do the destruction, he decided that since they had already had to come to the Silver Marches just to ask Valamaradace for her assistance, there was no point in him actually continuing on to see the destruction, and chose to go back to the village once Vala's help had been secured.

1349 DR

Like he had with the Shadowspawn army, Korvallen had participated in the battle to reclaim Mithral Hall so that Sharr would be less displeased about not doing so himself, which meant he was present when Laeral decreed that Drizzt should be taken home to his stedding to recover from facing the shadow dragon. And since Drizzt was in no shape to keep himself on Bright Eyes’s back—the pegasus had, quite unsurprisingly, insisted on being the one to carry her person—Korvallen volunteered to be the one who rode behind him.

Bright Eyes gave several loud neighs once they had landed near the stedding, and fairly soon, the undergrowth moved slightly and a tall Ogier stepped out. Obviously male, by the long eyebrows, mustaches, and full beard, and wearing the camouflage clothing of a Protector. Korvallen was quite impressed by the man’s woodcraft, as he had not realized that there was anyone near until just before he had appeared. The Ogier's eyes did not quite brush past him to focus on Drizzt, but Korvallen had the feeling that if he had not still been behind Drizzt on Bright Eyes, the Ogier barely would have noticed him.

“Drizzt?” a deep bass voice said worriedly. “What has happened to you? What do you need, kinsman?”

Korvallen was prepared to answer if Drizzt was too out of it to do so, but the ranger was at least aware enough to say, “I want to go home, but do not trust my feet to carry me, Voran. Bright Eyes and my friend Korvallen got me this far.”

“Then we will go,” Voran said, and came over to stand beside Bright Eyes. “Do you wish me to carry you, or will you remain on Bright Eyes?”

“With Korvallen’s support, I can stay on Bright Eyes,” Drizzt said.

Voran then turned his attention to the elf behind Drizzt, bowing slightly. “My greetings to you, Korvallen, and my apologies for hastiness. We may be properly introduced later, but my kinsman needs to be within the stedding.”

“No apologies needed,” Korvallen said, even as the Ogier—Voran, apparently—turned and began to move through the thick undergrowth at a speed that had Bright Eyes trotting to keep up.

While there was no obvious marker of the stedding’s boundary, Korvallen could tell when they had entered it by the shift of Drizzt’s weight against him—the ranger sitting up a bit more, supporting a little more of his own weight—though Voran stepping to the side and turning to wait for them would have been a large clue anyway.

“Shall we bring you to the healers, Drizzt, or only to Lindsar?” Voran asked, once Bright Eyes had come up alongside him.

“Lindsar, please. I just want to rest.”

If Korvallen had not felt the instant improvement in Drizzt’s state simply from crossing the boundary into the stedding's magic-null zone, he would have spoken up to suggest Drizzt be taken to the healers anyway, but since there had been that improvement, he was willing to let the matter lie for now.

Drizzt drew in a deep breath of good air, that smelled like it ought to. “I have missed you all.”

“Of course,” Voran agreed, and resumed his trek, though at a slower pace this time, Bright Eyes staying beside him. “She is weaving today, not on the borders, so she will see to you. Truly, kinsman, what happened to you? Or is it too much to speak of?”

“Had to help my friends take back their home,” Drizzt said. “A shadow dragon… from a different plane, not Leafblighter’s forces… had taken their Hall. I was most useful at keeping the dragon distracted while wizards dealt with it.”

Korvallen snorted. “You certainly did distract it, but it could have been managed with less risk to yourself.”

Voran looked from Drizzt to Korvallen, then back. “Did the risks he took play a role in the dragon harming him so?”

“No,” Korvallen said. “The risks he took were physical ones, the harm the dragon did was magical. Which is why Laeral insisted he be brought here.”

“What did it do, then?” Voran asked, unsettled and uncertain. “Did it… breathe upon you with some fume only the Elders who study such things would know?”

“Dragons exude dragon fear. Shadow dragons more so. And… they are more unnatural than a native dragon, making it worse for me.” Drizzt shuddered a little. “It is… the world trying to turn itself inside out to be near one, for me. And it is evil, with no chance of redemption.”

“Terrible,” Voran said, and then he sped up just a little, so he could open the door of Lindsar’s home before Bright Eyes got there.

As the door opened, Lindsar settled her loom so that her progress was not in danger, and then turned to see who it was.

Voran was the one who had opened the door, but behind him, one he had stepped inside and was holding it open, was Bright Eyes, carrying Drizzt and an unknown elf.

“Hello,” Drizzt said, opening his eyes to see one of the most welcome faces in all of existence, having known when they entered the house by the change in the sound of Bright Eyes’s hooves.

“He wished to come home, to recover from a dragon battle,” Voran said, to spare Drizzt the immediate explanation.

“You are always welcome home, my brother,” Lindsar told him. “And it is very good to see you… but I do not like how unwell you appear. Voran, will you do me the favor of going to Jinana’s and asking for two bottles of her restoratives?”

“Of course, Lindsar,” Voran agreed, waiting until Bright Eyes was out of the way before turning to go. “I will be back with them as swiftly as decency allows.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Drizzt said. Then he leaned forward against Bright Eyes’s neck at a tap and a shift from Korvallen, and his friend carefully dismounted.

“Do you need help getting down?” Korvallen asked his young friend, once he was firmly on the ground again.

Drizzt took a moment to assess his condition, then answered, “I think that would be wise.”

Before Korvallen could move to start helping him, though, Bright Eyes gave a snort, and carefully lowered herself to lay on the floor. That made it much easier to get off, though Drizzt was still glad for Korvallen’s support. As soon as he was off of her, Bright Eyes stood back up, and Drizzt leaned against her.

Returning his attention to Lindsar, he said, “Lindsar, my friend here is Korvallen Senahye, Knight-Captain in Silverymoon’s Knights in Silver, and brother-of-the-heart to Alustriel’s other soulmate.” Shifting to look at Korvallen, he continued, “Korvallen, this is Lindsar daughter of Malana daughter of Coera, Protector of Stedding Corwal, and my sister.”

“Greetings, Korvallen Senahye,” Lindsar said, bowing to the elf. “Your name sings in my ears. And if you will forgive my abruptness, I think I should get my brother settled on the couch.”

“Of course,” Korvallen replied, returning the bow, but perfectly willing to skimp on the polite courtesies for the sake of getting Drizzt settled down to rest faster. “And I return your greetings, Lindsar.”

Suiting actions to words as soon as Korvallen had agreed, Lindsar scooped her brother up in her arms and carried him over to the couch, laying him down gently, then began to work upon the laces of his boots.

“Would you like for me to take Bright Eyes out to her shelter and get her settled?” Korvallen asked.

Lindsar paused in removing Drizzt’s boots and looked over at Korvallen. “That would be quite helpful, thank you.”

Bright Eyes gave an annoyed snort at that, and stomped one hoof on the floor, but Korvallen was well used to dealing with opinionated pegasi worried about their riders. “You can keep an eye on Drizzt through that window,” and he pointed at the one that had the best view of the couch, “just as well as if you were inside. And you do need a grooming, plus food and water.”

Korvallen was getting on quite well with Lindsar, but Drizzt was also rapidly improving, so since he had not intended to stay longer than was necessary to make sure Drizzt really was taking it easy, when Lindsar spoke of going to Silverymoon with Drizzt, several days after their arrival in the stedding, Korvallen took the opportunity to bring up the subject of his own return to the city.

Drizzt had agreed that he was feeling well enough to not need assistance to stay on Bright Eyes’s back, though he still didn’t think he was fully recovered, so plans were made for the two of them to leave on Bright Eyes early the next morning.

As the flight from the stedding to Silverymoon took most of the day, Drizzt and Bright Eyes stayed the night in the city, and the morning after they had arrived, Korvallen saw them off again, with a promise from Drizzt that he would go straight back to the stedding.

Though Kor had assured him that Drizzt truly was recovering well from his prolonged exposure to the shadow dragon, Sharr still started to grow somewhat concerned when it had reached the middle of the third month of spring—Mithral Hall having been reclaimed early in the second month—and there was still no word from Alustriel about so much as an estimate from Drizzt on when he might return to Silverymoon.

When he mentioned those concerns to Kor, however, his brother of the heart was quite firm that they were unfounded.

“It’s been five years since Drizzt last visited the stedding,” Kor reminded him. “He has a lot of catching up to do.”

But even with that reminder, he was still quite relieved to hear from Alustriel, most of two weeks later, that Drizzt had finally returned. He was even more pleased to hear that the ranger had brought his Ogier sister with him.

And when Sharr came down to the clearing below the village to call for his current pegasus friend, Korvallen was waiting for him.

“I hadn’t realized that you were planning on going up with me, this time,” Sharr said. “After all, you’ve already met Lindsar.”

“I may have met her,” Kor said, “but I didn’t truly get a chance to know her, as we were both a bit preoccupied by making sure Drizzt actually took it easy and keeping Bright Eyes mollified about not being allowed in the house.

“And I did promise her that she’d get a chance to see me and Drizzt spar, since she’s never had the opportunity to see him in a friendly match, and one certainly wasn’t going to happen while Drizzt was still recovering.”

For all that it had been early spring when Drizzt and Alustriel decided that they were going to go ahead and make their relationship official, everything else that Drizzt had committed to doing meant that it was late fall by the time they actually got a chance to do so.

Sharr and Kor both attended evenfeast on the chosen night, and though they had had to explain the concept of multiple soulmarks to pretty much all of the non-elves who had chosen to approach them with questions about Drizzt, they were quite pleased with the results of their friendly greetings to the ranger and the many conversations they had had about him.

Chapter Three: Continuing On

1349 DR, late fall

Settled beside Kor on the divan facing the one Drizzt and Alustriel were sitting on, Sharr was about to ask if either Drizzt or Kor had had a chance to visit the Tuatha’an caravan that had been the talk of evenfeast that night, when Drizzt preempted him by saying “I’m going to need to leave a few weeks earlier than I had intended to.”

“That it is not much sooner than you planned means it cannot be a pull,” Alustriel said, “and it seems unlikely to be trouble at the stedding that needs your skills, either, so… the Tuatha’an brought word of some trouble in the elan-lands?” She reached out and took one of Drizzt’s hands in hers. “If it is something you can share, will you?”

Drizzt did not remove his hand from Alustriel’s, but the other reached up to run through his own hair, and then he took a deep breath. “I noted corrupted Aes Sedai. Laeral relayed this to her friend Terava Sedai.”

Sharr instantly sat up straighter, and he knew that Kor had done the same beside him. For all that the Aes Sedai claimed to be incorruptible, he’d always had his doubts, ones that he knew Kor and the Chosen of Mystra shared. But this was the first time those doubts had been confirmed as justified.

“Terava Sedai followed through, but their leads into the full conspiracy were cut when the ones they made out died.” Drizzt half-shrugged a shoulder. “They need me to find new leads, to expose the rot. I can go—I have a standing invitation—and teach more of the Underdark as I recall it for my excuse to be present.”

“The only time you’ve been in the elan-lands with Laeral—or at all, as far as I’m aware—was that trip just before Laeral brought you to meet Alustriel,” Sharr said, “and that was nearly fifteen years ago. It’s taken them that long to run out of leads, and they still haven’t uncovered the full conspiracy? Just how big is it?”

“I have no idea,” Drizzt said, “but from what Terava Sedai wrote, each of the corrupted Aes Sedai can only reveal three others, and some of the ones revealed were long absent from the Tower, so it makes sense that it would take quite a while to get even as far as they did.”

“Are you sure this isn’t an attempt to lure you into the hands of the corrupted ones, so they can get rid of you?” Kor asked. “Given that no one else has ever been able to tell if an Aes Sedai is corrupted, you are a distinct threat to them.”

“Not completely. But given that Terava Sedai was uncorrupted, and Laeral and I gave her the names of all the others we had met that day who were clear, the only person involved who I don’t know for certain is uncorrupted is the Amyrlin Seat.”

“And finding out if she is corrupted is a priority.” Alustriel sighed. “Even with how much faster Bright Eyes makes it, there’s still no point in flying all the way from here to Tar Valon unless you simply wish the journey. We left ourselves a teleportation-marker on the slopes of Dragonmount centuries ago, so I can have you and Bright Eyes there within a few hours whenever you choose to go. A day at most, if I am lacking teleport spells that day and must wait to reacquire it.”

1350 DR

While Sharr and Kor did need to leave for the village soon after Alustriel had teleported Drizzt and Bright Eyes to Tar Valon, they chose to at least wait until after the first of the weekly check-ins Drizzt and Alustriel had agreed on.

That check-in, though a bit earlier than a full week, had brought the confirmation that the Amyrlin Seat was indeed uncorrupted—and quite grateful for the ring of detect evil that Alustriel and Qilué had spent much of the winter making—as well as news of the plans that had been made to maximize Drizzt’s exposure to the Aes Sedai.

The news that the process of ferreting out all of the Black Ajah would be a long and difficult one—and that apprehension would need to be swift and as total as possible—due to two of them being on the Aes Sedai’s ruling council was less welcome, but was counterbalanced by both the protective amulet that the Amyrlin Seat had loaned Drizzt and Drizzt’s own idea to obtain the drow sleep potion for use in the apprehension, if possible.

Even after they returned to the village, Alustriel continued to keep Sharr updated on what Drizzt had shared with her during the check-ins, including her assessment of how heavily it was all weighing on the ranger.

And then, early in the second month of summer, Alustriel began the update by grumping ~Drizzt went and changed plans without telling me.~

~Oh?~ Sharr said. ~How did he do so?~

~He decided to take the long way back to Silverymoon instead of letting me know that they were done so I could teleport him and Bright Eyes back,~ Alustriel said. ~Which, alright, given how much everything has been weighing on him, I can understand him needing the time on the road to settle himself.

~I just wish he had actually told me that. Because he didn’t even bother to mention it during the check-in. If I hadn’t gone and scried for him because I had a feeling that something was off, I wouldn’t even know that he had left Tar Valon.~

Given that the Highharvestide festival had not only been Drizzt’s first as an official consort of Alustriel’s, it had also been his first in Silverymoon, Sharr had taken it on himself to show the ranger around.

Watching Drizzt’s delight in trying all the various foods on offer, especially the ones that were seasonal to the harvest and slaughtering time, had been quite enjoyable for Sharr, and so had watching Drizzt watch everyone else enjoying the festival.

Sharr was as intrigued as Alustriel when, several days after she had brought Drizzt back from his winter visit to the stedding, the ranger had asked her to please see if Laeral could come visit. A time had been arranged, and now, a bit more than a week since Drizzt’s return, Sharr, Kor, Alustriel, and Laeral were settled on the divans in the outer room of Alustriel’s suite, waiting for Drizzt to arrive.

A brief knock preceded his entrance, and he was carrying a pair of cloth-and-ribbon wrapped bundles of equal size—one in each hand—when he came in.

“Hello, my Lady. Sharr, Kor. Glad you could come, Laeral!”

“As though I would refuse you wanting to see me, dearheart?” Laeral asked. From his seat on the other divan, Sharr had seen her brows raise at the sight of the packages—quite large ones, too—Drizzt was carrying, so he was not surprised when she then added, “And what are you up to?”

“Gifts, for both you and Alustriel, as Lindsar declined to keep one.” Drizzt smiled brightly, handing one to Laeral, then the other to Alustriel… and Sharr was amused to see him steal a kiss on her cheek before letting go of hers.

Then Alustriel and Laeral set to opening the packages, and Sharr could not help but let out an impressed whistle when he saw the thickly plush, pure white fur each contained. And that was before Laeral stood up to let hers unroll and it proved to be longer than she was tall and wider than her spread arms, even without counting the width of the legs.

“Drizzt, what is this?” Laeral asked. “Other than impossiblybeautiful?”

Sharr had been wondering that as well, so he was quite eager to hear the answer.

“Giant weasels, gone kill-mad, so I could not just move them on,” Drizzt said. “Lindsar, Bright Eyes, and I tracked them after the Protector that found them told Lindsar and I of one of their kills. Lindsar offered me both pelts, so I would have one for each of you.”

“Amazing,” Alustriel murmured. Then she murmured a few strange words, and her pelt was taken by invisible hands and spread out to display its full size.

Kor had tensed a little beside him as the invisible hands took the pelt, but Sharr had recognized the strange words as being arcane ones, so he laid a calming hand on Kor’s shoulder and whispered, “Unseen servants, no need to worry.”

“The tanning is… so perfect,” Alustriel continued, “they’re as supple as anything I’ve ever felt, for as thick as the skin must have been. She’s sure she didn’t want one?”

“She saw what they had done,” Drizzt explained, “and the pelts would be a reminder, bringing that image back.”

“Your sister, like so many of your people, is a gentle soul,” Laeral replied, before wrapping herself in the full fur. “Oh, it is wonderful! I don’t even know what I want it to be, but it is so very soft!”

Alustriel laughed softly, before sitting forward so the unseen servants could wrap hers behind her shoulders. “Mmm… so soft. And surely warm as anything. I am glad to have it not be an ill memory for her, then, and very thankful.”

Beside Sharr, Kor gave a laugh of his own. “You’re going to have to improve the gifts you give her now, my friend. Drizzt has just set a high bar to match.”

1351 DR, spring

Less than a week after Drizzt had set out for Mithral Hall to begin the year’s ranging, Sharr was lounging beside Alustriel on one of the divans in her rooms when she suddenly tensed, then sat up straight and cried, “What?!”

Recognizing the signs of talking over the anklets in her gaze, he waited until her eyes focused on him again, then asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Drizzt sent to me and Laeral. ‘Black Ajah sister and her wizard-Warder tried to kill me, should probably be relayed to Terava Sedai.’” The exasperation was strong in Alustriel’s voice as she spoke, and it got stronger when she added, “Said in an entirely commonplace tone, of course, as though he faced murder attempts every day!”

Sharr shook his head and sighed. “Usually, I’d simply say ‘Rangers!’, but that’s excessive even for most of them.

“And if you’re feeling a need to go to him, to reassure yourself that he’s okay, I’ll go with you.”

“Thank you,” Alustriel said. “I didn’t give Drizzt a chance to argue with me about that, but I could tell that he was not happy with the decision, and Taern isn’t likely to be any more pleased than Drizzt was. But between your presence and Laeral’s, that should reassure both of them.”

And with that, she rose from the divan and headed for the door, and Sharr followed her.

After a brief stop at Sharr’s rooms, so he could get his sword, they headed for the nearest teleport point, and soon enough, the two of them arrived in a clearing, where Drizzt was stroking Bright Eyes’s neck, and Laeral was looking at him with a displeased expression.

“Alustriel’s here,” Laeral said. “So explain.”

Well, that probably explained the displeasure, though Sharr wasn’t going to discount the possibility that something else had contributed to it.

Drizzt stopped stroking Bright Eyes’s neck, and looked at the three of them, before pointing to a pair of bodies at the far edge of the clearing. “When I took my spells, the wilds were whispering of danger. And my Lady granted me that which I needed for the danger, though I did not know what it would be.

“The Warder cast multiple spells, before finding his death, and the corrupted one attempted… I think it is called balefire?… when I dropped the darkness I had thrown her way.”

Beside him, Sharr could see the color drain from Alustriel’s face at the mention of balefire, and he wasn’t sure he hadn’t had the same happen. He wrapped an arm around her, and she leaned into the offered comfort.

Drizzt half-shrugged. “I didn’t mean for either of you to come. I just don’t have a way to quickly tell an Aes Sedai that some escaped, and knew I needed to be the one to tell Alustriel.” Looking directly at Sharr, the ranger added, “Thank you for coming with her.”

“You’re quite welcome,” Sharr replied.

“I know you didn’t intend us to come,” Laeral said, and oh, Sharr could tell from her voice that she wasn’t handling the mention of balefire any better than Alustriel was, “you never do. That doesn’t mean there was any chance we weren’t going to, when you sent a message like that.”

Alustriel shifted in a way that indicated she was ready to stop leaning on him, and Sharr dropped the arm he had wrapped around her. She then took a step towards Drizzt, and asked, “Are you certain it was balefire the Black sister used?”

Though most of his attention was on Alustriel and Drizzt, Sharr still noticed when Laeral moved towards the corpses, a glowing mote held where her body could shield Drizzt from it.

“It blinded me in the fashion of what I have read up on, not that I noticed,” Drizzt replied, even as he put on his spectacles and started following Laeral. Alustriel moved to join him, and Sharr and Bright Eyes followed behind them. “Thankfully, I’d begun my throw as the weave was building in my direction, so my blade landed true.”

The four of them had reached Laeral by then, and Drizzt added, “Thank you both, again, for the spellwork on my blades. They served me well.”

The head sitting near, but not connected, to the male body was certainly proof of that, and Sharr quite approved of Drizzt’s choice to handle the Darkfriend in the same manner as required for a Fade.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Laeral said.

And then Alustriel pulled Drizzt in to her, his back to her chest, and her chin tucked over his hair. Laeral took that as a signal to come over and take one of Drizzt’s hands, and Sharr started to stroke Bright Eyes’s neck when she shifted like she wanted to protest the manhandling of her person.

“It’s alright, Alustriel,” Drizzt soothed. “It’s alright, Laeral. You and your sisters protected me! The amulet worked, making it just… vanish away.”

While Drizzt’s attempt to soothe the Sisters was definitely understandable, Sharr also knew exactly why it wasn’t going to help the way the ranger hoped it would. But it would be better for them to explain it.

“So they did,” Alustriel agreed, “so they did. But it’s not only the threat to you that has frightened us, love. We would grieve you, but we could also call you back… if you would agree to return.” Which was something that Sharr knew Drizzt still had some reluctance to consider.

Laeral then picked up the explanation. “If the Black Ajah have rediscovered the weave for balefire, there is danger to the Weave itself, to the Pattern.

“There is a reason that all of those who can use elan made a compact against it long ago. Even before the end of the Breaking. This must be brought to the attention of our Mother.”

“Ahh. That I understand better.” Drizzt then started to describe what he had seen in more depth.

Sharr wasn’t as well-versed in what balefire actually looked and acted like as the Sisters were, but he could tell from the looks on their faces, as Drizzt continued to speak, that they truly were becoming certain that the ranger was correct.

“Everything you say sounds like that weave, yes,” Laeral said, when Drizzt had finished. “Damn and damn. Light scorch them all.”

Then she looked over to the bodies, which had been stripped to their smallclothes. “Let them feed the carrion-eaters, and do some good for once in their miserable, accursed lives. Where were you planning to rest for the day, dear one?”

Sharr quite agreed with that decision about the bodies, but Laeral’s question about a place to rest was definitely a sign that it was almost time for him and Alustriel to leave. And Alustriel seemed to have realized that as well, releasing her hold on Drizzt, which Laeral took as a cue to let go of his hand.

“Hadn’t chosen yet. All of their things are in the haversack Thyl and Lin gifted me with, though, so I can call the carrion feeders now, and we can find a place… if you’re staying with me for a time?”

“I’m sure Alustriel would like to,” Sharr said, “but I rather think she and I had best go back to Silverymoon.”

“You are entirely correct,” Alustriel said with a sigh. “Before we go, however, did the Warder get lucky enough that you need a potion?”

“He’s not hurt at all,” Laeral answered, her tone exasperated, “though he hadn’t even bothered to check until I asked him if he was, despite the fact that the very first thing he said when I arrived was ‘Bright Eyes needs a potion. Do you have one?’”

“Of course it was,” Alustriel sighed, and Sharr winced at the exasperation in her tone. He strongly suspected that Drizzt was going to be in for a talk about taking care of himself as well as others, once the ranger returned to Silverymoon. “Of course it was.

“But since that is the case, Sharr and I really do need to leave now.” She leaned down to give Drizzt a kiss. When she pulled back, Sharr reached out and took her hand, and a moment later, they were in her bedchamber.

“Well,” Alustriel said, “I think we should both get some rest now, but do try to help me remember tomorrow that it’s brought up something I need to talk to you about.”

“Of course, my star.” Sharr moved in to kiss her, then turned to leave for his own rooms.

The following night, once Alustriel had returned from the post-evenfeast festivities she had chosen to attend, Sharr asked, “So what is it that you need to talk to me about, that was brought up by the attack on Drizzt?”

“Taking the Warder bond with him,” Alustriel answered, shifting on the divan to look more directly at Sharr. “I’ve been wanting to for a while, but felt it would be better to let him bring it up, because of his history with it.”

“The attack has changed your willingness to wait for that, then?” Sharr asked.

“It has,” Alustriel replied. “Between the fact that I could have lost him, without even knowing that he was in danger, and how close it strikes to what happened to you, I’m no longer comfortable with waiting, though I do plan to ask Laeral for advice on how to broach the subject with him.”

“I have no problems whatsoever with you taking the bond with Drizzt,” Sharr said. “I’ve actually been expecting this conversation since the two of you made your relationship official.”

Sharr and Kor had left for the village before Laeral got back from telling her Aes Sedai friend about the attack on Drizzt, but the conversation with her had gone quite well, as Laeral had actually been thinking about the matter for some time. And now, a month later, Drizzt had returned to Silverymoon, and Alustriel was preparing to start the conversation.

Shifting on the divan to face him fully, she took a deep breath and said, “Drizzt, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Hearing the serious tone in her voice, Drizzt also shifted to look straight at Alustriel. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Alustriel said, “but the attack by the Black Ajah and her Warder has changed my feelings on an aspect of our relationship that I had previously felt that you should be the one to bring up.”

“And what is that aspect?”

Alustriel took another deep breath. “I want to take the Warder bond with you.”

“How does Sharr feel about us doing so?” Drizzt asked. He knew that it was possible for someone to have two Warders, but he also knew that a second Warder was a choice that had to be agreed to by the first Warder.

“Sharr is fine with it,” Alustriel said.

“Is it just because of the attack, though?”

“No. I’ve wanted to take the bond with you for a while, but given your history with it, I felt it would be better to let you come to me about it when—or if—you felt ready to take it.

“But with the attack… you could have been killed, because I didn’t know you needed help.”

“Even if we had been bonded,” Drizzt said, “it’s not like I would have been able to share my vision with you before the attack was over.”

“I’m working on solving that problem,” Alustriel replied. “Teleportation-markers and the staves of Silverymoon are both things that allow one to teleport to them, so if I can figure out how to adapt the magic, I can make something for you to wear that I will be able to teleport to without error, and without needing your eyes to know where.”

Drizzt gave a wry smile. “I want to take it, too. But knowing the effect a broken bond has, I could not see why you would wish to do so with me, given that it’s a ranger’s duty to risk their life for others. Especially since what happened to Sharr proved that your enemies are perfectly willing to target those you are close to.”

Alustriel laughed softly, shaking her head as she drew him closer. “Aren’t we a pair? Though I will say that the fact that the attack on you reminding me of what happened to Sharr contributed to my decision to broach the matter of the bond with you.”

“A good pair, I think,” he said, leaning in to kiss her. “And I had not considered that perspective on things.”

“Tomorrow, then, after lunch? Since I’ll need to memorize the spell.”

“Tomorrow after lunch is fine with me.”

Late fall

Kor and Sharr were playing a game in Kor’s rooms, having chosen not to attend evenfeast that night, when Sharr suddenly took on the distant look of talking over the anklets. Kor patiently waited for Sharr to come back to himself, and when the other man did, Kor asked, “What’s going on?”

“Alustriel asked me to meet her and Drizzt at Taern’s office,” Sharr said, getting up as he did so. “And your presence would also be useful.”

“Then let’s go,” Kor said, getting up himself.

Not bothering to put away the game, the two of them left Kor’s rooms and headed for the Spellguard Tower at a brisk pace.

Alustriel and Drizzt had not yet arrived when Kor and Sharr got to Taern’s office, but they didn’t have to wait long before Alustriel walked in without even knocking, followed by Drizzt.

“Taern, Syluné needs my help,” she said. “They’re about to be attacked and the others are unavailable. You’re going to have to stay to watch the city, and organize getting as many of the Knights and Spellguards to me as you can.

“My next stops are the magical items vault and the dispensary for weapons to share out and potions for the injured.”

Taern nodded. “I will get that support to you swiftly, Lady. And the city will be guarded well.” He looked at each of the men, catching their eyes and getting brief nods in return, then focused fully. “I do not suppose she said which of her problems?”

“No,” Alustriel replied, shaking her head. “It may not be obvious. Thank you, Taern. Mystra be with you.” She turned and left the office then, followed by Drizzt, and—after he exchanged a look with Kor—Sharr as well.

“So,” Kor said, once the door had shut again, “do you just want me to handle informing Besnell and getting things started for the Knights?”

“Probably better for me to handle formally notifying him,” Taern replied, “but I see no reason you shouldn’t come with me for that, given that I’m sure you’re planning on being one of the Knights who goes. And if Besnell doesn’t ask you to lead them, I’ll be surprised.”

“Fair enough.”

Kor was familiar enough with magic to know that the effort the Sisters had expended in the last push would have knocked them both out, so once the battle was actually over, he went looking for either Drizzt or Sharr.

He found Drizzt first, as the ranger had actually been coming to find him. Drawing him over to a quiet spot to talk, Kor said, “With Alustriel unconscious, that leaves you and Sharr as the ones our people are going to look to for guidance. What do you want us to do?”

Despite his clear surprise at Kor's question, Drizzt gave sensible enough directions, and once all of the uninjured Knights and Spellguards had been set to tasks, Kor turned his attention to the ranger himself. “While we were organizing the cleanup, Aumry told me that Sharr accompanied Alustriel and Syluné off the battlefield, and stayed with them,” he said. “Since that means Sharr has already had a chance to get some rest, you should swap places with him now.”

It wasn’t that simple to convince Drizzt, of course, but soon enough, the ranger had agreed and headed for Chauntea's Temple, and not long after that, Sharr came and joined Kor where he was participating in checking for further traps.

somariel

SharrSapphire in the Wheel (1,857 words) by somariel
Chapters: 1/1
Other Fandoms: Wheel of Time
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Warnings Apply
Relationship: Alustriel Silverhand/Sharrevaliir
Characters: Alustriel Silverhand, Drizzt Do’Urden, Laeral Silverhand, Bruenor Battlehammer, Ensemble Cast
Additional Tags: Fusion, Canon Divergence
Series: Part 9 of A Crossing of the Realms
Summary:

What if the canon divergence of the series "SharrSapphire" happened in the series "The Ranger and the Wheel"?

Beginning notes

Inspired by

senmut and

ilyena_sylph's series SharrSapphire and The Ranger and the Wheel.

This fic contains a certain amount of borrowing from the first two fics in the series "SharrSapphire", since some scenes from those fics are covered in this one, with alterations based on the changes caused by them happening in the fusion universe of the series "The Ranger and the Wheel".

If you are confused by this fic, please go read the series "The Ranger and the Wheel" through "Champion of Mielikki, Champion of the Light" and the series "SharrSapphire" through "The Sapphire's Secret", as this fic very much assumes familiarity with both series to those points.

SharrSapphire in the Wheel

1298 DR

A flare of surprise over the Warder bond, suddenly cut off as the bond was masked to the point that she could only tell it was still there by the absence of the gaping wound in her psyche its breaking would cause was concerning enough.

But Andy sending to her barely half an hour later, saying that she needed to come to the village because there had been an attack, and now they had a mystery on their hands, was enough to trip Alustriel over into full-blown worry.

Arriving at the usual teleport point in the village to find both Andy and Korvallen waiting for her did not help, not did their insistence on waiting to explain until they were inside and she was sitting down.

The explanation given—a ritual hunt, a large band of orcs wearing enough spells against detection to buy a small kingdom, Sharr just… vanishing… right after the fight started—at least justified their caution, because that would have been an unpleasant shock if she had not already been aware that something had to have happened to Sharr.

“Well,” she said, once they were finished, “I can at least assure you that Sharr is not dead, because the Warder bond is intact. But it’s so muted that that’s all I can sense about it, and it’s more the absence of the wound to my psyche a broken bond would create that I’m sensing, rather than the presence of the bond itself.”

“It’s good to know that he’s still alive,” Korvallen said, “but that still leaves the question of what happened to him for the bond to be masked so completely.”

“Would an anti-magic field affect the bond like that?” Andy asked.

Alustriel took a moment to consider the idea. “Possibly, though that still doesn’t explain why he vanished. Especially since planar travel can be ruled out.

“That masks the bond to the point that only the strongest emotions come through, and in a muted form, at that. Which does not match what I sensed not too long before you sent to me.”

1333 DR, early summer

The pull that Drizzt and Aronna had followed into the eastern Lurkwood turned out to have been guiding them to deal with a very young green dragon. Once the dragon was dead, they had gathered up the small hoard it had managed to accumulate, and set up a camp not far from the small cavern that had been its lair.

While helping gather up the hoard, Drizzt had felt something tingle, so now that he and his teacher were settled down for the night, he started sorting through the portion he had gathered to find the tingling item. Most of it was coins of various sorts, but there were a few gemstones as well… and then one sapphire, more blue than most anything he had seen in nature so far, caught his attention.

He drew it up, knowing it felt like the weapons he had used and the gear he had worn before he was dumped on the surface. Six rays radiating from the center of one side of the rectangular gem made a star.

“What’s that, Drizzt?” Aronna asked.

“I felt something magical while gathering the hoard,” he replied. “This seems to be what I felt.”

“It’s a lovely gem. I wonder what spell it holds?”

As if in answer, the sapphire gleamed brightly, just before Drizzt’s own sense of evil warned of something approaching and Gnasher gave a low growl. Hastily, Drizzt stowed the stone in his belt pouch, then drew his blades—

—just in time to face the first of the arriving worgs.

As soon as he had dealt a fatal injury to the last worg, Drizzt backed away, hastily dropped his blades, and dug the sapphire back out of his belt pouch. As he had suspected, the stone’s glow had dimmed significantly, and as that final worg died, so did the glow.

“This is a very useful gem,” he said.

“The glow was a warning about the worgs, then?” Aronna asked.

“It seems so. And it was just a bit faster to detect them than my own senses were.”

“In that case, you should use some rawhide to make a wrapping for it, so you can wear it as a pendant.”

1344 DR

As the weather got even colder heading into the tundra winter, Drizzt noticed that the rawhide wrapping for the sapphire was starting to become cracked and brittle. So before it failed entirely, he approached Bruenor to see if the dwarf had any suggestions for a holder more suited to the weather in Icewind Dale.

After taking a look at the gem and listening to Drizzt’s explanation of what it did, Bruenor had suggested what he called a ‘basket-wrap’. Drizzt had needed the term explained, but once Bruenor had, he agreed that it sounded like a reasonable solution. Thankfully for Drizzt’s desire to learn, Bruenor was willing to take the time to show him how to make the wrap himself, and so, before winter had fully set in, the sapphire was safely cradled in a basket woven of silver wire.

1349 DR

While Drizzt had not intended to have the ruler of Silverymoon play messenger for him, he had not yet written a letter for the Harpers to deliver to Laeral when he and Lindsar had met Lady Alustriel outside of Deneir’s Library.

And so, knowing that the sending anklets the sisters used to stay in touch with each other would be a much faster means of passing on the message, before they parted ways, he asked the Lady if she would do him the favor of letting Laeral know that he had a magical item that he wanted her to take a look at.

Lady Alustriel had readily agreed, and Laeral had arrived that evening.

Introducing Laeral to Lindsar had resulted in some sharing of tales, but after a bit, Laeral wound down the one she was telling, then turned to Drizzt. “So what’s the magical item you want me to look at?” she asked.

Removing the chain he wore the basket pendant on, Drizzt handed it over to her. “This sapphire.”

“That’s the one that you said glows to warn of nearby evil, yes?”

“It is,” Drizzt agreed.

“So what’s happened that you now want me to take a look at it?” Laeral asked.

“Something I first noticed when you and Qilué removed the shroud from me, but which has been consistent over the years since then, is that in addition to glowing to warn of evil, it also grows warm—without any glow—when silverfire is manifesting.

“And while I didn’t think much of it originally, the fact that it became almost burning hot during the battle at the glacier when all four of you there used silverfire simultaneously was odd enough for me to decide it’s worth having you investigate.”

“That is definitely worth investigating,” Laeral agreed. “Do you mind if I start now?”

“Not at all.”

With that settled, Laeral put the stone down on the table in front of her and set to work. Detect magic was first, just to make sure there weren’t any traps laid for someone trying to analyze the magic on the stone, but when that only returned a single aura of strong conjuration magic, she moved on to identify.

The result of that spell was decidedly unexpected, so Laeral chose to double-check it with analyze dweomer. But when that produced the same result, she sat back and shook her head in bafflement.

“Well,” she said, after taking a moment to think over how to phrase things, “the sensitivity to silverfire isn’t the result of any spell on the sapphire that I can detect. However, the sapphire is a soul trap, so I suppose it’s possible that the sensitivity is somehow tied to whoever is trapped inside it.”

“There’s a person in there?” Drizzt looked at the pendant with a frown on his face, then looked back to Laeral with intense worry. “I… I had no idea. How do I fix this?”

“Thankfully, it’s quite simple, at least for someone who knows as many dwarves as you do,” Laeral said. “All you have to do is break the gem.”

“I’d best go find Bruenor, then,” Drizzt said. “Because no one as good as that person must be deserves to be imprisoned.”

“Tell him tonight, yes,” Laeral agreed, “but I think it would be safer to wait on the actual breaking until after I refresh my spells tomorrow, just in case you’re wrong, and the soul responds to evil so strongly because it is evil in itself.”

And if she was saying that as much to beat down her faint suspicion—or maybe hope—of who that person might be as because she truly believed it, well, she certainly wasn’t going to admit it to anyone.

The next day, after Laeral had memorized her spells, she, Drizzt, and Bruenor gathered in one of the small rooms off of the main chamber that had been set aside for use as workshops if needed, with Lindsar watching through the open door.

Drizzt set the stone down on the table serving as a work surface, then backed up so Bruenor could stand in front of it.

“Shame tae break such a lovely stone,” Bruenor said, shaking his head, “but we cannae leave some'un trapped like this.” He paused for a moment, then lifted a broad chisel to the stone’s surface, hammer in his other hand. He took a deep breath, then brought the hammer down on the end of the chisel.

But instead of splitting the stone, the blow caused a strong magical backlash, and left the stone intact.

“That was a spell shattering,” Laeral told Bruenor, who had to set his tools down and to wring his arms out a bit. She was a bit surprised by the fact that there had been another spell on the stone, but she knew that one of the weaknesses of detect magic was that stronger auras were capable of concealing weaker ones.

“Good tae know,” Bruenor said, squeezing his hands down opposite forearms again, working out the jolt of magic. Once he could safely grip chisel and hammer again, he cast the sapphire an aggrieved look and set the chisel to it. “Here we go again,” he muttered, and swung the hammer back, then down.

This time, the stone broke, and a blue light flashed brightly, bringing the smell of a spring day in the forest. Laeral held her breath waiting for her eyes to clear from the flash… and when they did, a full-blooded elf in hunting armor with ornate patterns was there.

“Oh, yes!” she cried, feeling incredibly euphoric that her faint suspicion had proved correct. ~Alustriel,~ she sent, ~you need to come to the Battlehammer warehouses immediately.~

~What? Why? Can it wait? The Warder bond just opened fully again.~

~I know! Look!~ Laeral shared her vision with her sister.

~Sharr?!~ Alustriel cried. ~How…?~

~The thing Drizzt wanted me to look at turned out to be a soul trap. Sharr was inside.~

somariel

Champion and Pegasus (2,898 words) by somariel
Chapters: 1/1
Other Fandoms: Wheel of Time
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Warnings Apply
Characters: Drizzt Do’Urden, Laeral Silverhand, Bruenor Battlehammer, Bright Eyes, Ysolde Veladorn, Ensemble Cast
Additional Tags: Fusion
Series: Part 7 of A Crossing of the Realms, Part 3 of Ranger and Pegasus in the Wheel
Summary:

The events of "Champion of Mielikki, Champion of the Light", in a universe where Drizzt and his teacher saved Bright Eyes's egg a few years before Drizzt met Laeral.

Beginning notes

Inspired by

senmut and

ilyena_sylph's fics Ranger and Pegasus and Champion of Mielikki, Champion of the Light.

This fic contains some minor borrowing from "Champion of Mielikki, Champion of the Light".

If you are confused by this fic, please go read "Champion of Mielikki, Champion of the Light" and the previous fics in my series Ranger and Pegasus in the Wheel, as this fic very much assumes familiarity with all of them.

Champion and Pegasus

1347 DR

Drizzt was not pleased that the warning from Mielikki and Gwaeron drew him to the east when whatever it was that he had come up here seeking was pulsing so clearly just a bit to the west, but that it had been so clear, and from both of them, meant he could not afford to ignore it even for just long enough to deal with the thing, so he got on Bright Eyes and directed her to the east.

Three Darkhounds, two Trollocs, and a Fade, however, certainly justified the urgency of the warning, as they could only be a scouting party for a much larger force. The Tribe of the Wolf was the closest of the Reghedmen, and he would need allies to deal with the larger force, so he signaled Bright Eyes to turn about and head for their camp.

The meeting with King Beorg had gone just as he hoped it would, and when he left their camp, he deliberately did so on foot, so that the three warriors the king was sending immediately would be able to catch up with him, as dealing with the scouting party would be much easier if it was not just him and Bright Eyes.

Only two of the promised three actually did catch up—which, on second thought, made sense, as the king was also sending a woman to tend the camp they would make, so one warrior would have to wait and come with her—and with them focusing on the Darkhounds, Bright Eyes focusing on the Trollocs, and Drizzt himself handling the Fade, the scouting party was easily dealt with.

Moonrise had reminded Drizzt that Mielikki was not the only deity that he could appeal to for aid, and his appeal to Eilistraee had, in quick succession, generated contact with both Qilué and Laeral, and then Laeral’s arrival, with the promise of clerics being brought before the fight against the approaching army began.

Bright Eyes had been as pleased as Drizzt to see their friend again, and when Laeral and Drizzt had left the camp so that Drizzt could show Laeral the terrain, she had come with them. And now, on top of the glacier, Laeral was acting as eyes for two of her nephews to teleport up.

The air around Laeral shimmered in an uncanny synchronization and two half-elves, as silver-haired as their aunt and every bit as tall, stood a few steps away from her, quickly turning to her. One blinked, startled, and then stepped towards Drizzt with his hand extended to clasp or shake. “Good to see you again, Drizzt,” he said.

Recognizing the half-elf as the one who had taught him how to ride and properly care for Bright Eyes during her first winter, Drizzt gave the extended hand a friendly clasp and said, “It’s good to see you too, Andelver.”

“Just Andy, remember? And this is Naerond, Nae. Damn, it’s cold!”

“There are spells for that,” Laeral sing-songed at him, even as Bright Eyes came over and bumped her head against Andy’s chest.

“Yes, yes, I’m pleased to see you too, Bright Eyes,” Andy said with a laugh, digging a piece of dried fruit out and offering it to her.

When Drizzt woke from the rest that Laeral had sent him to get, it was obvious that the sun had not yet risen, but the slowly lightening sky also made it clear that first light was past and sunrise was on its way.

Uncurling himself from against Bright Eyes’s side—to which her only reaction was a sleepy snort—he got up and went to find Laeral.

A few questions to some of the Reghedmen who had arrived pointed him in the right direction, but before he reached her, Bruenor joined him. “Quite a to-do ye’ve got goin’ on here, elf,” his friend said. “Wasnae expectin’ tae find even one of the Chosen of Mystra runnin’ things for ye when we got here, ne’er mind four, but the clerics they brought are certainly welcome.”

“To be honest, I wasn’t expecting such to happen, either,” Drizzt said, even as he continued towards where he had been told Laeral was, “but an appeal to the other goddess one of them serves quickly led to Laeral arriving, followed by two of her nephews, with a promise that clerics were being recruited.”

Bruenor halted abruptly and stared at him. “The Laeral ye always be talkin’ of was the Laeral who is a Chosen, an’ ye never thought to say such?” the dwarf demanded.

“Didn’t seem worth mentioning.”

“Didn’t—” Bruenor cut himself off before his voice got too loud, then muttered, “S'pose I shoulda expected that, little as ye like talkin’ about yer own deeds.”

They soon reached place where Laeral was, and on seeing them, she broke off the conversation she was having with another silver-haired woman and a solemn, watchful man in a cloak embroidered in silver, with a sword at his belt.

“How are you feeling, Drizzt?” she asked as she came over to them.

“Well-rested,” Drizzt replied. “Have you met my friend here yet?”

“We spoke briefly when he arrived with his people, but I haven’t had a chance for a proper introduction.”

“Then allow me to make one. Laeral Silverhand, Chosen of Mystra, this is Bruenor Battlehammer, Chieftain of Clan Battlehammer.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Chief Battlehammer,” Laeral said. “Any friend of Drizzt’s is a friend of mine, so please call me Laeral.”

“Same,” Bruenor rumbled. “An’ ye can call me Bruenor.”

“Thank you. And before I forget, I or one of my sisters needs to have a talk with you sometime after the battle is over.”

“Mighty curious as to why, but since ye think it’s best left fer later, I won’t ask now.”

“It’s nothing bad, if that’s a concern,” Laeral said, “it’s just something that you should know, as the chieftain of Clan Battlehammer.” Turning her attention back to Drizzt then, she asked, “Did you have a particular reason for seeking me out, or did you just want to check in with me?”

“I wanted to check in on how the preparations are going, really” Drizzt said.

“Of course! Why don’t I start by showing you the area we’ve screened for the healers, and how to enter it?”

The tour Laeral had given him had been quite thorough, including meetings with the leaders of the various groups of clerics that had come, and with Elkantar, who was leading the fighter escort Qilué had sent for her clerics—though he had been surprised to hear that Ysolde was one of the ones who had come, given her age—and once it was finished, Drizzt settled in to helping where he could.

Shortly after sunrise, though, he stopped what he was doing, feeling the pull of someone firmly connected to the wilds. Knowing that such a person was most likely the Wolfbrother—and his pack—Drizzt made his way toward them.

When those greetings were over—and oh, he had been surprised to hear the Wolfbrother call him Chain-breaker—Drizzt went and found Bright Eyes, who had been socializing with the three pegasi who had come with some of the Tall Ones, and started looking for the best place for her to hover while he addressed the assembled forces about the dangers of fighting Shadowspawn.

A spell from Storm aided him in making sure as many of them as possible heard his warnings, and once that was done, all that was left was to continue working on the preparations while they waited.

After the battle

Bright Eyes knew what it was like when her person was making an effort to not fuss, and she could tell he was doing so when he spoke with the elf who smelled like the friend he had brought to meet her a few times, even if the elf didn’t look right.

So once he had settled down to sleep, she went off to find the friend again.

The friend was pouring water out of the air when Bright Eyes found her, flanked by two of the silver-haired male friends, so the pegasus waited until the pouring stopped, then gave a snort.

Ysolde looked around at the sound of an equine snort and was surprised to see a pegasus standing nearby, especially when the pegasus, having gotten her attention, walked right up to her and bumped its nose into her chest. “Bright Eyes?” she asked, feeling sure that this had to be Drizzt’s friend, since one of her cousins’ pegasi would surely have sought the attention of Rae or Nae beside her instead.

The pegasus backed up a bit and nodded.

“Were you looking for me?”

Another nod.

“Did Drizzt send you to find me?”

Bright Eyes made a movement that approximated a shake of her head, and gave a snort as well. That had to be a ‘no’, then.

“Does he need a healer?”

Another ‘no’.

“You just… wanted to be with me?”

Another nod, and Bright Eyes bumped her nose into Ysolde’s chest again.

“Alright then.” Ysolde gave her cousins a warning look, and then started to stroke Bright Eyes’s neck.

Four days later

Obtaining the vile artifact that Drizzt had been pulled up to Icewind Dale to deal with ended up proving to be simple enough—Laeral had used a flaming sphere to melt the snow covering it until Drizzt had told her to stop, then Drizzt had taken Bright Eyes down to retrieve it, dropping darkness on the crystal before touching it and wrapping it in his tunic before dismissing the darkness because his instincts said it needed light.

Once Bright Eyes had brought him back up to the ledge where Laeral, Bo, and Melaryn were waiting, Laeral had put up a mansion against the cliff-face and they had all gone in to warm up—and in the case of Drizzt and Bright Eyes, to dry off as well. Bo had taken care of drying off Bright Eyes, since Drizzt was busy with doing the same for himself, and Laeral had easily identified what the crystal was after Drizzt described it to her.

What it was, however, had made actually destroying into a thorny problem, as spells were not an option, and it would only draw strength from even the hottest fire. Laeral had reached out to consult with Elminster, Khelben, and Syluné, and now she was looking at Drizzt and Bo with a serious expression on her face.

“Elminster wants at least you and me, Drizzt, to teleport to Shadowdale with Crenshinibon, both so that he can get it into something a bit more secure, and so that we’ll be easily available for answering any questions he and Syluné have while they work on figuring out a way to destroy it.”

“Does he have any idea of how long we’ll need to be there?” Drizzt asked.

“Not yet,” Laeral replied. “He has a few thoughts on possibilities for the crystal’s destruction, but they all require some research to determine the actual feasibility, and we might well have to go elsewhere before the destruction can actually happen.”

“Hmm. It doesn’t really make sense to bring Bright Eyes along if we’re going to be teleporting around-” Bright Eyes gave an annoyed snort at that, and Drizzt got up and went to stroke her neck. “It really doesn’t, my lovely one,” he said. “It’s extra effort for the mage casting the spell, and I’m just going to be coming back here once the crystal has been dealt with.”

Bright Eyes gave what was very obviously a sigh, and lipped at the pouch Drizzt kept her treats in. Drizzt got one out and gave it to her, then continued with his original line of thought. “Anyway, I don’t really want to leave her without any company for an undetermined period of time.”

“Melaryn and I could stay up here with her, if she’d like,” Bo offered.

“Actually, I was thinking of having her stay in the cavern the dwarves have outfitted for her,” Drizzt said, “but let’s ask her.

“Which do you want, my lovely one? Bo and Melaryn,” and here, Drizzt pointed at the other pegasus, “or the dwarves and Catti-brie?” And as he said the second option, Drizzt patted his pack.

Bright Eyes responded by gently tapping one of her front hooves on the pack.

“The dwarves and Catti-brie it is, then,” Drizzt said. Turning to Bo, he continued, “Bright Eyes knows how to find the right door to the dwarf caverns, but I’d appreciate it if you and Melaryn accompanied her to them.”

“Of course,” Bo said, “we’d be happy to. Is there a special knock I’ll need to give for her, or can she do that herself?”

“She has her own signal,” Drizzt replied. “And thank you.”

1348 DR

Once Drizzt had returned from destroying Crenshinibon, he and Bright Eyes had started contributing to the dwarves’ preparations for the coming journey by gathering food to be preserved—not just fish and meat, either, but harvesting extra fodder for Bright Eyes, as she and Drizzt were going to be acting as forward scouts for much of the journey.

And when the passes to the lands below the Spine finally opened in the spring, Clan Battlehammer moved out, with Drizzt and Bright Eyes ranging ahead of the caravan.

A stop in Luskan to pick up some treats for the dwarves had gained Drizzt and Bright Eyes some companions in scouting—a halfling by the name of Regis, and his pony Socks. Socks and Bright Eyes got on well enough, and though Regis was, as he had said, not used to the wilds, he picked things up quickly enough.

Mirabar had brought more companions, in the form of Foveni Drakebow, a dwarf who was considered the foremost authority on the lands that skirted the Lurkwood—as Bruenor saw no point in following the road the entire way when months could be eliminated by leaving it just south of the Lurkwood and cutting cross-country to where the Surbrin met the Rauvin—and her war pig.

One of the Tall Ones—Dolthauvin, Andy’s twin—had stopped to speak with the caravan while they doing that skirting of the Lurkwood, and as a result, the clan could now expect to have basic billets waiting for them when they arrived in Silverymoon, as Dol had promised to arrange the rental of some empty warehouses for them. That meeting had also provided some amusement for everyone when Bright Eyes had reacted to Dol's pegasus friend Vaska demanding scratches and pats from Drizzt by going and demanding the same from Dol.

Once the Surbrin had been forded and the caravan had turned off to go to Silverymoon, it was back down to just Drizzt, Bright Eyes, Regis, and Socks. As they had managed to find one trace of a road heading up into the Frost Hills before the Surbrin was forded, Regis suggested that Drizzt might be able to find other traces, from a high enough vantage point, so just after dark, Drizzt went up on Bright Eyes, and sure enough, he did notice at least one other.

1349 DR

When Laeral had decreed that Drizzt should be taken home to the stedding to recover from facing the shadow dragon, Bright Eyes had, quite unsurprisingly, insisted on being the one to carry him. But since Drizzt was in no shape to keep himself on her back, Bo rode on her behind him and teleported back to the Hall once Voran had taken over the task of keeping Drizzt on Bright Eyes’s back.

The short trip from the border of the stedding to Lindsar’s home was a bit of a blur for Drizzt, though he knew that had answered some questions from Voran, but once Lindsar had helped him off of Bright Eyes’s back and into her home—their home, he knew she would say—things were less blurred. And so he got to watch the most amusing sight of Lindsar negotiating with Bright Eyes.

“I know you’re concerned about him,” his sister was telling his friend, “but you really can’t stay in here.”

Bright Eyes gave an exasperated-sounding snort, and Drizzt could almost hear the “Why not?” she had to be expressing.

“You have a perfectly fine shelter outside,” Lindsar said, “one that’s already set up for your needs. Drizzt doesn’t need the disturbance of me setting up a place in here for you to settle and figuring out how to manage your food and water needs in here.

“Nor can I be interrupting my work every time you need to go out, and I’m certainly not going to leave the door open.”

Bright Eyes made a motion that Drizzt would have called a considering head tilt in a two-leg, and after a moment, she trotted over to the window that had the best view of the couch that Drizzt was laying on, and bumped her nose against it.

“The window?” Lindsar said, sounding puzzled. “What about it?”

Drizzt, however, had a better idea of how Bright Eyes thought, and said, “I think she wants to know if you’re willing to leave the window open.”

Bright Eyes nodded eagerly, and nickered excitedly as well.

“If I do that, will you agree to stay outside?” Lindsar asked.

Bright Eyes nodded again, and Lindsar sighed. “Very well, then.”

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Tales of Faerun

Entries tagged with character: bruenor battlehammer

Kissed by a Goddess: A Slight Misadventure

Bard Tales

Work It Out

On the Ice

Children's Crusade

Fluffy Crack: Drow and Moose

Have Your Cake Part V

Oblodra Gloom: Finale

Oblodra Gloom IV

Soulmates Fic

Sisters in Spirit Part IX

Sisters in Spirit Part VII

Sisters in Spirit Part VI

Sisters in Spirit Part IV

Gender-Changed Drizzt

Small Fusions

Tales of the Companions

A Multiplicity of Crossings

SharrSapphire in the Wheel

Champion and Pegasus

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