tales_of_faerun | Entries tagged with character: zaknafein do'urden

Dreams of Her Own (2929 words) by Sharpest_Asp
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Characters: Vierna Do'Urden, Zaknafein Do'Urden, Drizzt Do'Urden, Ensemble
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Typical Violence, Fratricide, Murder, flashfic
Summary:

Thwarted in escaping with the two males she cares for at Graduation, Vierna sets her goals differently.

Only, Drizzt sets things in motion the wrong way.

Dreams of Her Own

Vierna refused to let her plans unraveling for graduation be the end of her ambitions. Dinin and Drizzt were mostly out of the House, serving time on the patrols that protected the city. A House was plotting against them, and that raised tempers… as well as giving alibis. She loathed the idea of killing other drow, but there were two major obstacles to her designs for holding a House for her true god.

Briza was the first of these. Despite at least two attempts by others to kill her and Vierna suspecting at least the last plot against Malice as her handiwork, the brute still lived.

She had carefully sown suspicion of Briza in the ears of other high-ranking clerics while a Mistress of Arach-Tinilith. Whether that would bear fruit quickly enough remained to be seen.

The second was Malice herself, and by necessity she had to be allowed to live until Briza was dead. Still, it was so easy to plant rumors among their soldiers, ones that implied someone within the House was plotting to overthrow the Matron. As Briza was the likely heiress, those rumors would serve to foster ill-will between mother and daughter.

She had not counted on her wean-son throwing everything in disarray by failure on the raid in such a way as to bring Lloth's disfavor on them all. That this threatened Zaknafein now was something that could not go unaddressed.

"We will bring them," Vierna said in icy tones, still holding one of the man's swords, and Maya holding the other. "It may amuse the Matron to see you parted from them as she interviews you."

Briza's eyes flicked to her, but Zaknafein shrugged, arguing to be allowed to dress once more. Eventually, they were moving toward the matron's domain, with her already upon her throne in the chapel's anteroom. As they had walked, Vierna had taken the second sword, gesturing for Maya to have her hands free in case the male did something wrong.

"Zaknafein, Matron, as you requested," Vierna said, once her sisters had moved. How this next part would go depended on how fast the man reacted.

Malice sat back upon her throne, and Vierna made her choice, dropping the swords on the floor audibly. Malice glared at her for that, but Vierna did not see it, already drawing the circle with her forefingers, saying the word for the hated daylight above —

— and the antechamber lit up as if on a sunny cloudless day above. Maya audibly cried out in pain, and Malice's hiss was loud enough to be heard from the throne, where Vierna had centered the spell. The pop and strike of Briza's whip in her direction failed to land, as the second-born daughter of the House was in motion, maces in hand.

Nor had Zaknafein been slow to gather his blades, reacting to the treachery with fast, economic motions. The chanting of a prayer-spell ahead of him died at the end of a blade, before he began hunting the half-blinded daughters. While Vierna's eyes were streaming wetness from the glare of light, she did see her mother's headless body tumble from the throne. Leaving Briza to the more experienced killer, she dealt with Maya, a fight that lasted only long enough for Vierna to actually invade the woman's space.

Spells were no match for an experienced fighter, she thought as the youngest daughter died from a crumpled skull.

The sound of a body — heavy, large — hitting the floor gave her the signal to dispel her the daylight and listen, eyes moving from one cooling corpse to the next before focusing on the male in the center of the room.

"I'll need a moment to rid us of the bodies," she said in a cool tone, offering him the alliance she desperately needed in those words.

"Mind if I go get dressed, Matron Vierna?" he asked after a long moment.

"Please." She gave him a smile for how well he had taken it, knew the requesting word was giving him more to think on. She let him leave before she took advantage of Lloth's disfavor on them to invite the shadows to come in and clean away the traces of what had been done. She could not, yet, give herself over to the truth of her worship, but the servants of shadow-stuff were quick to do as needed and leave again.

All that remained was to prepare her lies for the House, and take firm command. She had no idea if they could beat back a House war at this point, but she was not going to admit defeat now that she had chosen to claim leadership.

How to spin the lies so that even a Goddess believed in her purpose? That thought was carefully hidden under the protective spells on her mind.

Zaknafein looked at the man his son had become and nearly cursed aloud. He needed to get back to Vierna, to see what insane plan she had for dealing with this, but Drizzt was in terrible shape.

"Sit." He'd pulled himself fully together, armor and weapons in all their proper ways. Drizzt did, all signs of shock setting in, and Zak did not have time to deal with that but he could manage the injuries. With brisk hands, he applied the salve to the burns, then had Drizzt straighten the hand out as best he could. Zak let his face show his distaste for causing further pain as he manipulated the bones the best he could into their correct places before applying the salve there too.

"Hun'ett?"

Drizzt nodded. "Both wizards, though the Faceless One said his name was DeVir."

Zak snorted. "So that House dies twice over this day. We'll talk later; go find your brother and invite him to get his lizard riders kitted up an into defensive posture. No time for sleep yet."

He dug out a tablet, and held it out to his son. "Put it under your tongue until it dissolves. Yes, it is bitter, but it will let you have a clear mind and no fatigue for hours."

"After Dinin?"

"Back here; I should know more by then."

"Yes, Father," Drizzt said, a tiny smile lighting his eyes for saying it.

"We may yet win freedom, son," Zaknafein said quietly, before going to find the daughter that baffled him.

The plan was reckless.

Vierna didn't care.

She went into the chapel, alone, and settled into prayer. All of who she was in truth was locked away, as she opened the fullness of her plan to whichever of Lloth's lowly servants was tasked with listening to the ill-favored House.

"The time for change is upon us, and today I have begun that change," she prayed fervently, the strength of her convictions carrying her through this. "It will be all the more sweeter to bend such skills to the needs of the House. Grant me the right to prove this, and every soul of the House daring to attack us is Yours!"

More drow deaths, but one way or another it had to happen. Either Do'Urden was doomed, or the enemy was. She did not let that leak up past the hiding spell, and when the candles lit in darkflame she thought she had the answer she needed.

"To Your glory," she finished, rising and leaving the chapel to vest herself in the full powers of the House, and prepare for the counter-attack she was envisioning.

Zaknafein frowned at the fervent expression on Vierna's face as she came out of that damnable chapel. He wiped it off his features before she saw him, but braced anyway when she swept up to him and took his hands. Her fingers tapping out the words took her a moment to understand, just because it was almost sheer lunacy to try what she was saying.

"The boy will see to the defenses inside the House," Zaknafein told her in the same manner. He was certain that, in defense of the home, Drizzt would not hesitate, but something was telling him not to have his son be an aggressor.

"Weapon Master, we face an attack from above us," Vierna said aloud over his message to her. "Your experience is needed."

"So it will be."

He melted away from her, going to give Dinin his orders, to allocate which fighters needed to listen to Drizzt… and she went to marshal the lesser clerics, those few wizard-trained fighters, and the now-former Patron to supply the rest of the battle plan. He found Drizzt still with Dinin, and two of the senior fighters there with them.

"Drizzt, interior defense. Mahali, station as you would with me in charge, and you had better listen to our Secondboy. Dinin, we're going hunting, to head this off."

"All of my riders?"

"We need to be in place before the others move, yes."

Dinin's smile was vicious sharp, while Drizzt was frowning. Zak caught his eyes, signing 'not now' while Mahali was leaving them to get the most experienced fighters into place. Drizzt stiffened, then nodded, and turned to follow her. That let Zaknafein get Dinin alone, and he met the Elderboy's eyes intently.

"Nothing like the last time, Dinin. I can keep the Secondboy in check; can you?"

He was satisfied to see the threat land solidly, and decided he'd have no treachery out of the fighter, allowing them to go and see to this task of theirs.

Somehow, against impossible odds, Hun'ett fell to the cunning preemptive attack that Vierna had dreamed up. Dinin and Rizzen were praised for their effective command, Zaknafein for cutting off the head of the attack, and Drizzt for keeping the House secure when so many of their forces had gone out.

Now, sitting precariously as the Eighth House, Vierna had to determine the best way forward. While Zaknafein was indispensable, and better at masking his hatred of Lloth, Drizzt was an explosion waiting to happen, one that could yet destroy her tenuous hold on the House. She adopted two stronger junior clerics, made arrangements to send them one after the other to Arach-Tinilith. She also surveyed the minor wizards of the House, comparing them to her memories of Nalfein, and arranged for the better of them to go to Sorcere.

Her fighters were flush with the many Hun'ett warriors that had been given the option of death or surrender. Those would have to be processed carefully, as they might yet prove treacherous.

None of that solved the problem of Drizzt, who she needed to either bend to her will — an impossible task and she'd known it when she offered that as part of her lies to the Spider Queen — or remove him before he made another mistake.

This meant taking one more risk.

After warning Zaknafein to guard the House closely, she took her wean-son, her strange little brother, with her to the caverns where she could gather components for new salves. The faerzress and her cloaking spells would have to be enough for this next endeavor… and the boy better damned well cooperate with her!

Drizzt had not been certain of anything since the raid, it felt like. Zaknafein — his father! — kept counseling him to be patient. No one was talking about the missing women of the family, or Vierna's promotion of so many junior clerics. She was taking firm charge, and yes, House Hun'ett had been destroyed, but Drizzt still felt sick when he thought of killing drow.

The House was tightened down, all defenses running high, but the feeling was somehow less oppressive than he thought it would feel. Something in the way Vierna set the orders to everyone had less … fear attached to it. It was almost as if she wanted people to choose to support her, instead of demanding loyalty and enforcing it through violence.

Still. He did not feel safe or even welcome, other than in the gymnasium. Sparring Zaknafein was the best experience, other than the quiet moments with Guenhwyvar. He felt very adrift, other than in those two experiences, day in and day out at House Do'Urden.

Accompanying his sister was hard, but he clung to the fact she had protected him from the effects of graduation, had covered up his slipping out from the orgy. Zak had said to trust her… to a point.

"Heavy thoughts, my brother?" she asked him as they stopped in the most beautiful, deadly cavern Drizzt had ever seen.

"Yes." He did not see a purpose in lying to her, was ready to escape by any means necessary.

"Good." She stayed upon her riding lizard, and drew out a few items from her pockets. The precious jewels, exquisitely placed in meticulously crafted pendants and rings had once been seen on Malice from time to time. Drizzt was curious, despite his wariness, especially as Vierna drew out a black shallow bowl that reeked of magic even with the faerzress all around him.

"May I know what you are doing?"

She looked at him, giving a true smile for the question. "Helping you to run away before you upset my ability to keep the House and other necessities," she answered. With what she needed, she gestured for him to dismount and take those items, only climbing down once he had. "I cannot cast the spell that is needed, but I have asked for the help I need.

"I merely need to make the offering, and a gate will open."

"But… where? I have nothing."

"Once you set that over there on the flat stone, get the two travel bags off your mount," she instructed. "As to where, I have been promised that the gate will open in a place where you will find aid swiftly.

"I do not want you suffering any more than I want you to upset what I must do with the House, to try and make things better for us," she explained. "Some day, when you are older and wiser, I will tell you more — if we both live long enough to see it happen."

Drizzt frowned, but did all she told him to, trying not to worry too much. "What about the Weapon Master? You need him, and he may not like me vanishing."

"I will handle him. He will know you live," Vierna promised. She came to him before she attended to setting up the sacrifice of the material objects, putting both hands in his thick hair and pulling so that she could place a kiss on his forehead. "I had other plans, at graduation, but could not make them happen.

"Instead, my strange wean-son and brother, know that I am trying to change many of the things that hurt you so about our lives." She stepped back, searching his face, and he decided to risk everything by actually hugging her.

"I will never understand, but … that is a good thing in my eyes," he told her. "I will hope to hear from you, some day."

She nodded, and went to begin the ritual that would send him far from her, far from drow life as he had known it.

It had been a very, very long time since Vhaeraun had cooperated with His Sister, yet this prime opportunity had been too much to pass up. Summoning Her was as simple as standing in Her mostly abandoned demesnes within the Demonweb Pits. The fierce warrior that was His Twin arrived with swords bared… and not at a point He had expected Her to arrive at.

"Peace, My Twin. I have a drow I need to remove from My priestess's life. I can only perceive him through her eyes… but given how strongly he reacts in the negative to all aspects of drow life, I believe he was meant for You."

"Brother, if this is some form of a trap you are baiting, I will do everything I can to send you slinking into the shadows."

He smiled; even wary, She did not threaten Him with death or unmaking. "I am finally in a position to break Her hold on Menzoberrazan. A House on the ruling council," he began, "is my hope."

Her eyes widened, and He felt Her reinforce the non-detection spells woven around Them to protect the words They shared. Where He broke Lolth's power, She often found a way to follow. Which suited Him, as she took away those drow without the necessary traits for the future He envisioned.

"What do You wish?"

"Temporary passage, via gate, to the demesnes You keep there." He could not help but sneer a little at mentioning Her other home, but it did drive the point home.

"As a gate must transfer to a plane not the one it is cast upon," She reasoned. "Once delivered to Me, that is the end of it?"

"Unless it comes to outright war?" He invited, wondering if Their Mother would fight harder for this city than others.

She considered. "Against Her, You may count on Me."

He smiled, then made a flourishing wave at Her before stepping through the shadow plane, to await the call from His priestess. He knew She would not linger there.

A drow male appeared in the eternal night of a goddess's domain. A priestess and Matron Mother returned home looking grimly satisfied at yet another family member mysteriously vanishing. A father felt a message tapped along his arm that his son would live free now.

The future was wide open for all of them, as plots and plans continued to evolve about the destiny of House Do'Urden.

senmut

Sealing the Future (22801 words) by Sharpest_Asp, Ilyena_Sylph
Chapters: 6/6
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Characters: Vierna Do'Urden, Zaknafein Do'Urden, Drizzt Do'Urden, Ensemble
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family Dynamics, Ensemble Cast, Canon Typical Violence
Summary:

Life continues to move forward, with peace and threats alike, for the Do'Urden family.

Sealing the Future: Chapter One

Zaknafein eased back from the door with enough nuance to his motion to make it clear Yasdra was asleep. He was very curious about his son's welfare, but as Vierna had returned alone, all must be well.

Once she was in, he went and used a silence cantrip on his younger daughter, Vierna's heiress in all likelihood, before moving her to her own room. Once that door was shut, he could talk to Vierna freely.

"You stayed away longer than I expected," he began, once she returned from getting into more comfortable clothing. "What foolish thing has Drizzt done this time?"

Vierna glared at the wall and raked her fingers through her hair, before flinging herself into one of her chairs. "Oh, he only nearly bled to death from having run himself to exhaustion and then fought entirely too long against an invasion of the town-lands by the barbarian tribes up there. Why he bothered to lift a finger, given the way they treat him, I cannot understand! But we owe a debt to Termalaine, for their Spokesman's protection and care for him."

Zak grunted at that, shaking his head. "I'm never going to understand that boy." He made himself breathe slowly; Drizzt was alive, if a little worse for it. It wasn't as if he had never been on death's door, but Zak had never had much choice in it. Drizzt throwing himself into such fighting for the choosing of it? Was too strange.

"Nor am I," Vierna agreed with a sigh. "I tracked him down, healed him, and took him back to his cavern to recover properly. Then I let him escort me to the portal back here. I waited an hour or so after i got back to my portal up there, then went hunting for the barbarian king who had given him the worst of his wounds. Drizzt knew he had wounded the man, but the barbarian's guards had intervened and dragged the king away.

"I hoped I would find a corpse. I did not... but there certainly was one by the time I left that encampment."

Zaknafein smiled with pride at his daughter. "Good. One less ghost to chase him," he said. What even was his life where he could feel and show pride in this daughter of his? "Hopefully Drizzt learns something about not giving everything he is to people who are not family."

"I hope so," Vierna said, with no particular conviction that it would happen in her tone. "I would have liked to poison the entire encampment, but... he would not be pleased by that. So." She shrugged, mildly vexed.

"No, he'd fuss, and that might abridge the truce between you two about actions taken." Zaknafein nodded. "You handled it the best you could of, removing an enemy and keeping his conscience clear."

He then gave her a searching look. "Have you eaten? I can make something for you." His fatherly concern over his son could be put to use for the daughter here and now, much as he was aware he'd fuss over Yasdra when she woke.

Vierna's brows creased. "Drizzt fed me before we left for the portal," she said thoughtfully, "but... no, I haven't since. You're right, I am hungry."

He stood, came over to pet her braids, then continued on to the kitchen. He didn't like that his son had faced death very nearly, but there was nothing to be done for it, beyond what Vierna had done already.

Over the years, Drizzt had been 'borrowed' by Dove Falconhand's nephews, sisters, and even her childhood guardian (which had Drizzt vowing never to believe Elminster's appraisal of a situation).

This visit, though, by one of the eldest nephews just as winter was gearing up, was different. Dolthauvin, called Dol, arrived alone by teleport, and happily took refuge in Drizzt's home, noting the touches that made it truly livable. The door was obviously a dwarven ingenuity, and the various pegs plus shelves inside showed similar craftsmanship.

"You know, I kept hearing you had dwarven allies, but it hadn't really sunk in," Dol told him, admiring everything. "It's not a region I'd expect them in, but then, I can't see an elf making a home up here for long, either." His last words were teasing in Drizzt's direction.

"I probably could not have survived long without their aid in mastering the place," Drizzt agreed. "And once they chose to trust me, I could not conscience leaving, as my best friend among them is in need of someone to give her protection to be out from under rock, teaching in the way of bow and sword, as well as an alternative point of view from her clan.

"That I learn as much from her is the wonderful part."

"I hope to get to meet them, especially your friend," Dol said. "If you don't mind me intruding long enough to get the version of elf-drow history you originally learned, and any variations you have learned since your family went to a city of the Masked God."

"I certainly don't mind company," Drizzt answered, shaking his head as moved to rearrange a few things to make more room for his guest -- as he was rather taller than Catti -- to be comfortable. "Especially not in winter. It's still more than a moon before I would normally go visit my father and sisters, even!"

"You know my entire family is absolutely amazed at how you balance being a ranger of Khalreshaar and Eilistraee with having a high priestess of the Masked God as a sister, right?" Dol asked, even as he stayed out of the way, seeing Drizzt knew exactly how to do what needed doing.

"Oh, I know," Drizzt agreed, "it is absolutely amazing I survived, after all. Vierna -- even being Vhaeraun's, and not the Spider Queen's -- should have revealed me to the Matron to be sacrificed, if only to save herself and cement her position."

Dol felt his skin chill at that idea. The Realms without Drizzt Do'Urden? With all the man had done, it did not bear thinking about.

"I think I see the shape of that, and it absolutely terrifies me to consider," he managed to say after not too long a pause.

Drizzt stopped and came to lay a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "I am well, and -- blessedly -- she was not inclined to reveal me. She has told me, now and then, that trying to keep me from doing something that would expose me, or her, was a trial through my childhood. I forgave her for all the beatings years ago, after she stole Father and I right out from under the Spider-Queen's nose and told me why it had had to be so."

"She took the time to explain," Dol said slowly. "Drizzt, your sister defies so many ideas I have long held about folks committed to evil. It's no wonder Aunt Qi said she admires your sister, despite being on opposite sides of things."

Drizzt beamed, delighted at the praise of his sister both from his friend and from Qilue, who he respected immensely. "She did. She had us kill her whip, and along the trip she explained much. I still cannot accept Vhaeraun's desire for conquest, or His love of treachery and stealth, but He forbids murder of drow among drow, and House Wars in the cities He has power in -- so I respect Him. He protected Vierna all her life, and told her to flee with me to preserve my life. She tells me He is pleased enough to have gotten her, and Father, and Yasdra out of His investment in her, and is not too enraged by my following my own nature.

"Eilistraee, I think, takes some hope in that Vierna and I can love each other, despite that -- depending on which spells she's taken that day -- sometimes she makes my skin hurt, and I trade my weapons out so that their blessing does not do her harm while I'm in the city. Truly, he has been so, so good to Vierna and to us. She is honestly happy now, after so long living in terror of our Mother and sister."

"That... that's good. And of course you're opposed to it; we all would have been knee deep in a tar pit a few years back if you weren't." Dol half-grinned at that assessment. "I really wish my father could have met you."

"I wish I could have met him," Drizzt agreed, thinking of the stories he'd heard of the Lore-Keeper who had raised such a number of sons. "He sounds like he was remarkable."

"He really was," Dol said with a wistful sigh. "So, in exchange for your tales, would you like one in turn? Since Andy and I were eldest, our first adventure was under both our parents' eyes, and I have fun telling it when Andy's not here to counter me."

"I would, yes, absolutely," Drizzt agreed with a bright smile, "just let me finish getting things rearranged!"

He moved to finish that up, buoyed by the recognition of how amazing his sister was.

"Thanks for giving me more leg room," Dol said with a grin, before he settled, having already hung his robes on a peg, and brought out his quill of recording with a sheaf of paper. Those he put beside him. "I can throw up a mansion later, if you're craving food you didn't cook and a hot bath.

"Just let me know what part of the world to pattern it from."

"All of you spoil me ridiculously," Drizzt told him, chuckling and choosing to answer the offer first, "and given how few regions I know, why don't you shape it for somewhere you'd like me to try?

"So let me tell you the history as I was taught it, yes, to start our tale-trading?"

"Let me just get the quill set up, and yes. I promise not to be too distracting as I react to your tales," Dol promised.

Catti-brie had been watching the weather, and as soon as a day was clear enough to allow her time to run up the Cairn, she did so. She just barely beat the howling winds rising up, sliding inside and closing the door swiftly. That was when she noticed Drizzt wasn't alone, and she frowned.

"Who be ye?" she asked with typical dwarven bluntness.

"Dolthauvin Aerasumé, please call me Dol. Father was far too fond of traditional names, and we all use our short form."

"Catti-brie, clan Battlehammer," she said of herself before stripping off the outerwear to hang on her peg. "Ye cannae be terrible, or me ranger'd not let ye be stayin'," she added.

Dol studied her, blanking his face against shock at hearing that long dispersed and much reduced clan roll off in the older dwarvish brogue. She looked to be in her mid-teens, if he could judge humans at all, auburn hair and with the supple strength of one accustomed to hard work. She didn't look malnourished, appeared healthy, and Drizzt had rearranged himself to let the girl share his seat easily enough.

"Our family has learned to rely on Drizzt's estimate of others," Dol agreed with that, smiling a bit at the young ranger. "I'm a nephew of his ranger teachers." How could a group of dwarves be up here, using that name… and how had they changed to the point of adopting a human? He had so many questions.

Drizzt ducked his head slightly, but he smiled for both Catti's defense and Dol's content agreement. "So he is," he agreed, to Catti, and to Dol, "and Catti is my student -- as Bruenor and I agree she will never have the mass for axe and shield. Better to work to her advantages. Dol came to get some of my perspectives on the ancient history of our peoples. It has been entertaining for us both, I think."

"It definitely has been, and I almost wish my father had lived long enough to hear this all," Dol said. "Only almost, because it would also involve a lot of spluttering, as he was actually a dedicated Lore Keeper."

"I ken just enow tae be certain the tales would be very far apart," Catti-brie told him. "Drizzt has the best tones tae show how idiotic some of what he learned is." She smiled at her dearest friend. "Keeps the winter friendly, tae listen tae his tales."

Drizzt chuckled at her, nodding. "Dol has heard some of that by now, yes," he agreed. "How fares the clan below? The aunties and uncles?"

"Elder Uncle is enjoying trying to work with the rothe hair ye brought back from the northern caves, and the rest are doing as ever — sleeping when they can, fussing at e'eryone when they can't," Catti-brie told him. "Me Da said ye best come down at least once a'fore ye take yerself tae see yer kin," she added. "He's still all tied up with tryin' to domesticate that boy."

"I'm sorry, what?" Dol inquired as the sentence made little sense in context of dwarves.

"Barbarian lad as hit me Da in the head, got laid out but didnae die," Catti-brie answered. "Me Da wouldnae turn him over for the towns tae lynch, nor send him back tae be sacrificed for failing in battle. But the boy is stubborn and resisting what's good for him, that he is still breathing and only has tae work off his people's debt to our people."

Drizzt sighed -- he still was not certain of that decision, but it had been the best Bruenor could do for the child. "I will certainly come down," he agreed, "I would not leave without seeing Bruenor, and if he is so entangled, he won't have the time to trek up here." Also, the cold did no good for his friend's older bones, but he would never say that aloud!

"Do you think your father would mind if Dol came along, to the trading cavern at least?"

"When this storm passes, aye, ye can bring him with ye," Catti-brie said, using all the authority of her place as chieftain's daughter to make that pronouncement. Dol did not smile to hear it, but recognized it from those times when Andy would actually be the lord he was born to be.

"Thank you, Catti-brie. I look forward to hearing what tales your people might share," Dol said. "While I am not a trained bard as my aunt Storm, there's some similarity between a history collector and her functions."

Drizzt laughed wryly. "I think the Reghedmen see no difference at all," he said, relaxing a little at Catti-brie's approval.

"Not that I know of, no," Dol agreed, before settling back in his seat. He did not want to intrude on whatever the pair would normally set to doing, and he had much to think on before he got to go down and learn if this really was the clan he'd given aid to and traded with as a much younger man.

~Brothers mine, clear your agendas if you can for the coming spring,~ Dol started the sending late the next night, after a very emotional day with the clan chieftain and his few surviving elders.

~Do tell us why,~ Ghael drawled cheerfully. ~What has our favorite ranger found for us to quest after?~

~Clan Battlehammer, about two hundred of them, with the last king's own grandson.~

~Son of a three-eyed newt, WHAT?!~ came Elin's immediate outcry, more strongly than any of the other protests. It took a bit for everything to calm down, to allow the sending anklets to work properly.

~Twin, that's amazing, and yes, we eldest ones did look, but no one in their right mind could have predicted the Icewind Dale as a destination,~ Andy sent at last to get things on track.

~It's too late for them to stock up, but they have knucklebone for me to trade, so we can make supply depots,~ Dol told them on an answer to his twin, then forged on with his own. ~This place just had a war in autumn, so there's not much to forage.~

~We take the knucklebone, spread it out in markets that have grain that early, and help,~ Ghael agreed.

~How many clerics to multiply it, as we should save some back for their other needs,~ Methri pointed out.

~None, little brother. They get by fully on natural ways… and Drizzt, now he's here.~ Dol's voice was quite grave on that matter.

~Right, I'm hunting through those down here to see who got cleric trained,~ Elin declared.

Other smaller details were discussed, and the feasibility of clearing — and securing — the old trade town if it hadn't been swallowed by the woods was debated. It was a good project, and each one of the Tall Ones took on tasks willingly.

They all existed as a gift of magic between humans and elves, so they felt it was their duty to give back to the goodly races, to justify their elf-long years.

Drizzt was expected, so Zak was a little less paranoid opening the door than usual. His son slipped in, hugged him tight, then hurried to his room. Even with the protective sheathes on his blessed scimitars, they still agitated Vierna at times. The swords were changed out for his ones kept here, and his holy pendant was also left with the surface swords. It was his concession for visits, a token offered to keep the peace with her.

He should see about acquiring a bag of holding to put them away in, so he could keep them on his person. Until then, he'd made certain to warn both of his goddesses that he would be lacking the usual charms They had bestowed on him in his last surface vigils.

All that seen to, and a piwafwi pulled over his armor, he went back into the room to find his little sister — not so little now, and beginning to show more sedate manners — waiting for him.

"It's good to see you, Yasdra." He opened his body language, to see if she wanted to hug him, and was smiling as she threw herself into it with abandon. He put his cheek to her hair, holding her close, just soaking in being back with his family.

Zaknafein took in that picture of them, and committed it to memory. He lived for his family, he would kill for them, and he would not hesitate to die for them if it would protect them. As Drizzt and Yasdra took their places on the sofa, he went to start a meal to feed all of his children, knowing Vierna would be home soon enough.

Vierna did, at about the time Zaknafein was finishing making the meal, return to their quarters -- and a delighted smile crossed her face as she saw Drizzt sitting with their sister. "Well! Good evening, brother! Good evening, sister."

Drizzt smiled broadly in turn, permitting himself to pet Yasdra's hair once before escaping her being glued to his side, telling him all about her lessons. He moved to Vierna and tucked into her arms for a long hug, despite having seen her more recently than the others.

"I have news that might not make you happy," he warned quietly, "as it means I will be moving from the portal you created for us."

Vierna took a deep breath and did not growl at him. She had put twenty years of her life into those two portals, what in Vhaeraun's name did he mean he was going to leave them?!

"You had better be going south," she said first, as quietly as he had, as she tried to work out some way that this wasn't something for her to be angry about. She could use teleport now, her god had been generous in that. And if someone ever tried to track her to Drizzt through the portal, well, if she then teleported it would be much, much harder for them.

He squeezed her and nodded, before just turning his face into her braids and neck for a long moment. Once he felt steady, having told her that, he did pull back and give her a faint smile. "Shouldn't keep Father waiting with food, Vehna," he said playfully at a more normal level of speaking.

"No, we shouldn't, brat," she agreed with him, reaching to ruffle his hair gently for a moment before letting him go and heading towards the table.

He gave his hand to Yasdra, wanting to swing her up on his hip like he used to, but conscious of her being older now. She took it, and walked with him to the table, even grinning a little when he pulled her chair out for her. Zak's chest was tight as he saw that, still amazed at how close-knit his children were in the affection they shared.

"Let's eat," Zak said, once he had the meal in the center of the table, leaving all conversation of serious topics to the side for now. Later, he'd find out how well his son had recovered, and other news they should know.

Much later, after a solid spar and Yasdra going to bed, Drizzt was sprawled on the floor, showing his endurance had not yet fully recovered, though he'd lasted a good long while.

"As I told Vierna earlier, I will be moving from Icewind Dale. One of my teacher's nephews came to visit and on being introduced to my friends, gave news that Bruenor has more people from his ancestral Hall," Drizzt began. "Plans are in place, including a way to supply the clan on the move, with a destination in the Frost Hills, on the southern side of the Spine.

"Once he gets his people unified, then he intends to try and find the Hall, and I will be involved in that." He looked over at Vierna. "He's too good a leader to make southern-adapted people move to him, but he can't have his clan fractured, now that he knows. And if we can't find the Hall, or it's uninhabitable, then we'll set surveying teams out, to try and find other mines to build."

Vierna sighed. "Why do you have to be friends with dwarves?" she complained, mostly in resignation rather than frustration. "At least this one has sense enough to get his people out of that wretched cousin of the Abyss your current abode is, I suppose. I am not building you another portal, even once you're settled.

"You can cozen one of your Surface friends into crafting you a pair to the portals there. There are enough of them with the power to do it, after all."

That had come to her while they ate, and she was not particularly displeased with it.

"I may ask," Drizzt surprised them by answering. "As portals back to those would make it easier for the wizards I know to get knucklebone where it is cheapest, and apparently it takes spells well." He chuckled. "Even if it is not a goddess laying the spells.

"Apparently my pendent is now able to help me against undead things."

"Always a useful thing, when you don't have a cleric right there to control them," Zak said wryly.

"Given the kinds of trouble you get into, I approve of your having another defense," Vierna said, though she was doubly grateful he had taken the wretched thing off. "And good."

"I love you too, Vierna," Drizzt said, tone playful. "I don't think I remembered to tell you both Catti-brie was grateful for the suggestion I teach her knives. And she has since graduated to the sword — singular — which she wound up using to defend a tunnel during the invasion, deterring an idiot Tribesman who had gotten turned around from his host."

"You're not teaching her two-handed stances, are you?" Zak asked.

"I am doing my best to remember strictly single-sword stance and recovery," Drizzt promised.

Vierna chuckled softly. "You know this means Father is going to drill you one-handed the rest of the time you're here, right?" she teased, smiling down at him.

"That will be good for me; some of the spells I can learn do need a free hand," he told her. "Now that I am returning to the lands below the Spine, I plan to pick up my studies with any rangers willing to aid me.

"As I will not be far from Silverymoon, so I will be able to meet others there."

He was not thinking about the fact he would also be able to renew Lady Silverhand's acquaintance, having found her presence and charm soothing despite his raw edges as he brought Crenshinibon south, years before.

Vierna gave a small shudder at the mention of the city protected by some warding that barred all beings like her from entry, but nodded.

Zak, for his part, was struck once again by the fact that his son could and did cast divine, as his daughter did, even if his son's magic came from one of the two goddesses he could not understand. That they helped to protect his faerie-hearted child, and chose to gift him with Their power... all he could do was marvel for a moment.

"Then we have something to work on," he said mildly, well-pleased with that.

"I look forward to it, Father," Drizzt said happily, soaking in the ambiance of being home with his beloved family all over again.

Sealing the Future: Chapter Two

Late 1355 D.R.

Getting Bruenor's clan settled into their home had taken most of a year to move, find the place, and evict the occupants. Vierna reaped the benefit of her brother's efforts; the dragon within had been named as an enemy of Vhaeraun's centuries before the thing had taken the Hall. Vierna was exasperated but pleased, with the exasperation being connected to Drizzt having taken the brunt of an attack to get the dragon lined up for a killing blow.

She would grudgingly admit that he'd been well-cared for, even if he had been inside that city where she would never be able to reach him.

She carefully did not tell Dhaunae that Drizzt had found a love match, dispelling the idea that he was completely without interest in sex. She wasn't truly certain what to feel about him tying his life to a wizard of that level of power. On the one hand, he was completely worth someone of renown. On the other… Silverhand was a very powerful woman, and Drizzt was still so young.

Her father's contacts had indicated something was stirring in their former city, which normally would have been of little concern to her — except there was the unresolved matter of her unlamented elder sister hanging over their heads.

It wasn't going to do her any good to worry about Briza... but having had her brought back to mind did make Vierna nervous. Which was not a state she particularly enjoyed.

"You're thinking too loud," her father said, Yasdra currently being in a class with Nalatar. That cleric was one of a very few people Zak could trust with his children's welfare. It was also helpful, as Nalatar understood the surface language more than well enough to teach Yasdra, and she wished it, since her brother spoke it fluently.

"Then what am I thinking about, if I am doing so too loudly?" Vierna asked, trying to be playful.

"Something affecting our family," Zak said lazily. "Your shoulders are tenser than usual, your jaw is tight, and you have that crinkle in the middle of your brow that you and Drizzt get when you're trying to carry the weight of protection all on your own."

Vierna found herself smiling at the comparison to her brother more than indignant at the commentary, and she sighed and nodded. "Your news brought what the eldest daughter of our House did to herself back to mind," she admitted. "It might have been for nothing... or it might have been accepted. And that opens a variety of terrible possibilities. Few of which my Lord can give me any warning of, given it is best for Him to avoid the Demonweb Pits."

"Hmm. And my contact certainly will have no awareness of anything at that level," Zak said, frowning. "I believe, daughter, we need to shake up our own routine a bit more and further delay building the House we mean to have. Our fighters will wait; they like temple stipends after all." The one that Drizzt had spared so long ago had led to others, ones who would accept a place in House Do'Urden in a heartbeat.

Vierna nodded her agreement -- she had not found anyone she was willing to accept as a consort, or a mage she was willing to bind as kin, so... it was no great trouble to delay a little while longer. "All true," she agreed, "and likely best."

"I'll speak with Nalatar when I go retrieve Yasdra; I do trust them beyond the rest of your cohort of clerics," Zak mused. "They might have contacts to parlay with in exchange for Drizzt acquiring things for them from the surface."

He had no compunctions against selling Drizzt's skills, knowing his son would gladly offer them for the family. The boy could not live with them full time, but the family still came first.

Vierna nodded. "They're the best choice, by far," she agreed. Nalatar had deep connections among the mages, which might, in fact, be the best angle to find help.

He nodded to that, then dragged himself back up. "Come, my student. Enough exercise of the mind; how are your maces today?" he challenged, so they would both put this aside… and sharpen their skills further for the eventual fight.

"Let us find out," Vierna replied, finding a smile of agreement with his blatant goals for him.

Drizzt was laughing brightly as he sparred Catti-brie on one side of him and Lespur on the other, all while the barbarian youth Bruenor had brought with them watched, ostensibly learning. His scimitars were darting left and right, fending off the short sword and pike both while the women — girl in Catti's case — tried to make a teamwork effort.

All of that crashed to a halt as a shadow near them deepened, and Drizzt broke off, knowing that could be a threat… or a message from his sister. Lespur got between the pair of youths and the reaching shadow.

The shadow finally spit out an imp that appeared to be made of shadow itself, and Drizzt saw the city symbol of Rilauven stamped in the swirl of darkness, leading him to look expectantly at the creature.

"Greetings from Silent Sable Nalatar," the imp said. "They request that you meet them near your 'unfortunate experience above' by the next dark of the moon."

That was going to be a tight schedule for Drizzt to keep, but his worry for the family at why it was Nalatar reaching out made him agree with a sharp nod… and he found a coin that was glittering in its shine to give to the creature before it vanished away.

"Drizzt?" Catti-brie asked, stepping past Lespur to reach for his shoulder.

"I have to go. If one of the Tall Ones comes in my absence, ask them to convey my regrets to their mother I will be unavailable," he told his young friend. "Lespur, will you see them both back inside?"

"O'course, and ye be careful, lad."

Drizzt nodded, putting away his blades, and ran up to his own home, above the entry to the Hall, so that he could get his pack and bow.

"I donnae like this," Catti-brie said. "Before, it was always through the rock he keeps."

"Aye, lass, and all the more reason tae do as he said and go inside." Lespur looked at Wulfgar standing and gave grudging approval for his obedience. Him respecting her, Catti, and their elf had been hard won, but cemented by the battle to take the Hall.

Drizzt had made the agreed upon meeting point with time to spare. He noted that the town still had trade with the drow, two nights later, when the wagons rolled beneath his hiding place in the dark of the night.

Nalatar rarely attended to trade — ahh, there his teacher was, toward the rear of the group. A word passed with a guard and Nalatar turned off, no doubt with the excuse of gathering a rare surface component. Drizzt tracked the priest silently until certain that they would be alone, and dropped out of the concealing trees with enough noise to warn the other drow.

Nalatar was versed enough in battle to not be someone Drizzt would sneak up on.

"My family?"

Nalatar blinked, then huffed out air. "I should have realized your thoughts would turn to danger for them, and in a way, that is correct, but not immediately." Nalatar beckoned for Drizzt to walk alongside them, heading toward a thicket.

"Danger, but not immediate?"

"Your father's contacts in your former city indicated something very major is being planned. While that cannot affect us all the way in Rilauven…"

At Nalatar's words trailing off, Drizzt's jaw set grimly. "They are not so far from my new home, are they? And I could be used against my sisters or father."

"As best we can determine, yes. We bear no love to your dwarven allies, but a favor is owed, for killing that drow-murdering shadow dragon," Nalatar told him. "Consider this for that."

"I will not waste the warning. But surely there is more, for you to bring me to your side, my friend." Drizzt held some of the thorn-brake apart, seeing what Nalatar wanted to harvest.

"No, that is to be certain your family is protected more fully. Your father wishes Yasdra to have a dagger like the Redeemed Shade's, and has entrusted me with the enchantments. I would like, if at all possible, to have a blade of mithral to work with, as the girl is nearly as quick-minded as you are, and thus an engaging student."

Drizzt smiled indulgently at that. "Young for your tutoring, but I approve deeply." He wouldn't even have to go back to the Hall to arrange that, as he was carrying a slim mithral blade in his boot that should work. Uncle the Younger had made it for him, when the elderly dwarf had decided he simply had to work mithral once more before he died.

Uncle would understand the need to pass a gift like that to a younger sibling.

"You feel there is some direct threat, though, one they have not spoken of to me?" Drizzt asked after Nalatar had secured the night-blooming flower and its roots.

"I thought they might be holding back something," Nalatar agreed. "I do not know the full extent of it, but some action by the zealot had given our Redeemed Shade reason for wariness. I was asked to seek out the edges of any Abyssal interest toward our city.

"Your father offered me your services in procuring items of the surface in exchange."

"Ask him to send to me, any time, and I would gladly do so," Drizzt pointed out.

"I know." Nalatar slipped the component into their expanded pocket after wrapping it carefully. "Any move against you is likely to be the first attack against your sister, as you well know. My own measures indicate it will be a simultaneous attack, though."

Drizzt frowned. "I should come to the Temple."

"And forfeit the trust and allies you hold on the Surface?" Nalatar pointedly asked. "That would be a victory of its own against your family. It has proven advantageous to us, after all, that you can act as an intermediary with … those who follow our Lord's Sister. Your assistance in defeating the dragon has earned you a more hospitable place among us, yes, but you are most valuable above.

"Even if you do not fully espouse our Lord's ways, you help manage the peace we need to grow strong enough to eventually overthrow Her," and Nalatar's hands twisted in the dying spider gesture.

Drizzt inclined his head, slowly, accepting the logic of that. "Very well, my friend. I will remain away… as me coming outside of my usual winter visit would seem odd to any spies."

"Ahh, you learn intrigue and caution at last!"

Both of them laughed, even if Drizzt's was a touch rueful, before scouring the area for more useful things. Drizzt would give over his knife before they parted ways… and consider most carefully what his next steps needed to be.

Yvonnel Baenre had watched the Houses settle themselves out in the aftermath of the Fifth and short-lived Eighth Houses both falling in a short time. It had been a few decades, with new fighters coming to maturity, and the feeling of discontent brewing just under the surface with matters.

It was time for something to shake things up, and fortunately, her goddess agreed.

Between her finger and thumb, she toyed with a thick tooth, before calling for her nearest daughter to put things in motion to ready the city for a campaign against dwarves, with riches beyond compare… and a prize to bring to the altar.

Her smile was cold and cruel, making Quenthel shiver in anticipation of just what these next years would bring for their House. She was unaware that other, more divine strikes were going to be orchestrated, to bring the upstart Masked God to his knees in a far-away city as Menzoberranzan enriched itself.

Sealing the Future: Chapter Three

1358 D.R.

Even long-lived species like drow and dwarves could not stay on the edge of impending doom constantly. The warnings were passed where they needed to be in the Hall, and in the city that was Drizzt's other home. Time passed, and nothing stirred, dulling the anticipation.

The anticipation re-awakened after a clumsy attempt on Vierna's life in Rilauven, and Drizzt decided he had waited too long, that he needed to see if he could learn anything at all about Menzoberranzan's proximity to Mithral Hall. With that in mind, he brought his piwafwi and Underdark-forged weapons back with him, protected in the cunning haversack that Thyl had gifted him with, so that he could do some scouting.

He did not tell his sisters or his father of his plans, knowing one of them would protest, if not all. Even Yasdra understood now that he was not just strange, but antithetical to most normal drow. If he was caught… it would not go well for him at all.

Drizzt, however, had spent his entire life trying to be as good as his father in stealth and combat. While he was not certain he'd be able to call on his goddesses' gifts once he was in the Underdark, given he tended to lean more on his Surface Lady, he did not rely heavily on those.

"I will worry, but you must follow your heart."

Alustriel's words sat deep in his soul, having found a kinship in many ways with her since moving near to her city. Those, and Catti-brie's rougher warning not to get himself killed, kept him buoyed through the first several days of exploration, guided by what he'd gleaned from Nalatar during his visit home.

He took it as a sign that the first trace of civilization was a mining crew of the svirfnebli, one of the few good races in the Underdark, and he made up his mind to approach them in peace, to trade for information if they would just listen to him.

Belwar Dissengulp was aware enough of the unease about Menzoberranzan that having a drow walk into their midst, hands away from hilts and open, was invitation to violence even before he had processed it fully.

The drow, though he did draw blades, was fighting in defense only, his speed blinding yet managed with care so that the crew who swarmed him with tools and weapons alike were sent staggering back, unharmed save for a brief stun.

It was unnerving, making the miners certain a larger group with magic was lurking in the dark, ready to swarm and enslave them — or worse.

"Enough, all of you!" the drow snapped out in a moment where he'd managed to clear a circle around himself. "If I surrender will you let me talk?!"

What in the names of every rock and magma stream was this?!

"Stand down!" Belwar hissed, and one of his fellows managed to pull back the only one who didn't listen, trying to get at the ancient enemy.

"My gratitude," the drow said, blades vanishing with that infernal speed once more. "I mean it. I will surrender if I may have honest parlay with your people."

"You stand over there, and we'll stay over here," Belwar said, pointing to the most vulnerable, unprotected spot in this tunnel. Amazingly, the drow obeyed that, going to stand where he had no rock for shield, too low a roof to levitate, and was visibly hotter than the air around him — where that drow-crafted garment wasn't hiding his body from sight.

"My name is Drizzt Do'Urden," the drow began calmly, as if he hadn't just defended himself against a score of veteran svirfnebli trying to club him down. "I am seeking information, to defend my allies above from a threat by the people I was born to.

"I can offer information about potential trade with those allies, in exchange for this."

"There is only death above," Belwar said, though a memory of fleeing duergar being chased away from their own mines intruded. At the time, the svirfnebli had decided anything to turn that race to terror was something to avoid. Could it be that the allies mentioned were a threat bigger than drow themselves? Was this man an agent of violence trying to lure them into a false sense of security?

"Only to those who do evil deeds, Saer," Drizzt answered that. "We killed Haerinvureem, who held a dwarven stronghold above. The dwarves have returned to the mines, and would be willing to trade with other good folk, if you wish to seek that out.

"All I am asking is what is known of Menzoberranzan in these tunnels, so I can better protect my allies, some of whom I count as close-kin by choice."

"Lies. Drow lies!" one of the junior miners hissed.

Belwar was not so convinced, but he looked the drow over closely. "You say you are from above, yet you wear the garb and weapons of a true drow."

Drizzt inclined his head. "I have business and family in a distant drow city. It is better to use and wear things from here when below, and keep them from fading when I am above." He focused on Belwar, tuning out the agitated others. "I have made no offensive moves. I approached openly and with hands in view.

"Please, good saer, either say that you have information you will share, or send me on my way to scout as best I can. The safety of my friends is my priority, I swear upon my blades."

"Not my place to bargain with a drow," Belwar finally said. "But you can camp near, and word will be sent, to see what is known. If you stay peaceful a day or two, you might have your information without further trouble. If you don't?" He let his words hang with threat.

Shockingly, the drow smiled at him, bright and sincere. "I saw a mushroom grove not far from here. I will go and gather, to await, return to this spot in… two days, if you do not seek me before that?"

Magga camara, what was this strange one?

The thought flitted through Belwar's head, but he gave a sharp nod, and kept watch as the drow departed. They would set a watch, double even, while their best runners went for the city, and Councilor Firble. Drow were his headache!

Drizzt moved with all of his stamina and speed to get back after he met the expert on Menzoberranzan, his worries for the people he loved and protected high in his mind. Once he had almost hit the faerzress, he decided it was possibly best to give warning to his family as well.

~Guard yourselves well; our former city is stirring to an invasion sooner than later. No time frame to give.~ The sending was to his father via the stones they had, and he truly hoped he had not intruded on anything too important, as disruptive as it could be.

~I hear you,~ his father answered, ~we will, and expect me asking you tomorrow how the hell you have news of that pit.~

Drizzt almost grinned, hearing the exasperation in the tones. He'd managed his task without getting caught, and had the warning they all needed. His father could just be a little miffed with him for taking the risk, later.

That sobered him up. He had to believe there would be a later, that this was just one more trial to overcome.

Once he reached the barricades to the lowest levels of the Hall, he rapped on the gate, called the pass-phrase once they slid the peephole open.

"Good yer back; king's been frettin'," the senior guard said, after they got him in and he stood guard while they spun all the locks back in place.

"I told him it would take me weeks to go and come back," Drizzt said, shaking his head. "Anything I should know?"

"Princess is frettin' too?" the junior guard said, and Drizzt had to laugh.

"Alright; let me go up and find them."

Word passed as he started moving up into the Hall proper, and by the time he reached the more habitable section of the Undercity, he had Bruenor approaching from one side, and Catti-brie on the main ramp coming down to him. Soon enough the three of them were in one of the store rooms, settling on barrels with the door shut.

"Ye be lookin' dire, me elf," Bruenor said in a low voice.

"It is dire, but I cannot tell you a true time frame," Drizzt answered. "Menzoberranzan is training her people under lights, to accustom themselves to it. They have been focused intently on the city, doing little more than guarding their approaches.

"No, Catti; I did not go into the city. I made the acquaintance of deep gnomes, and they brought one to speak with me." Drizzt focused on Bruenor after aborting her attempt to upbraid him. "The deep gnomes, svirfnebli as they are called, will send a delegation to see about trade based on mutual assistance. As their city, though hidden well no doubt, is between the Hall and the drow city."

Bruenor eyed him sharply. "Ye trust them?"

"My friend, they are one of the few goodly races of the Underdark. I do. You'll need to ask Cobble or one of his students to keep tongues on hand to translate for you."

"And why won't ye be handling that, me ranger?" Catti-brie asked.

"Because I need to go recruit wizards and clerics for us," Drizzt said.

"Me Hall can — "

"Not provide the magic assistance we need, Bruenor." Drizzt pinned him with a firm look. "Every dwarf that falls in battle can be expected to be made undead and used as a shield wall for their fighters. Their clerics and wizards are terrifyingly vicious and very, very well-trained. We need as many Tall Ones as can come, and likely Harpells, since they've been solid allies to you as well.

"While my own first Lady cannot truly aid within the stone, I may be able to ask of the other's followers for aid."

"Better than askin' fer yer sister," Bruenor grumped, grudgingly agreeing.

"I would not even if someone hadn't tried to kill her, and if we didn't fear an attack while I am tangled here," Drizzt admitted, and both Battlehammers looked sharply at him.

"Yer family is in danger? And ye be here?" Catti-brie asked.

"Yes. It was our choice; she and Yasdra have Father for protection; all of you only have me for knowing something of drow ways," Drizzt told them. "My place is here."

She flung herself over and wrapped a hug around him tightly, while Bruenor sighed deeply.

"Ye be too good for most of yer people… and if'n yer family chose this with ye, then I take back some of my muttering about their evil ways."

Drizzt snorted, but closed his eyes and held his dear friend close. Like with his fears for his family, he could not abide the thought of any evil drow laying hands on her, or Bruenor, or countless others he cared for.

Alustriel smiled gladly as she saw her ranger at the foot of the stair leading up to her rooms, but the sense she had of him was that his mission had netted ill results. She could take joy in him being safe, for now, though, and let him fill her in once they were private.

"My Lady, you look divine — truth in advertising?" he greeted her, eyes sparkling with mirth even as he appreciated the finery this night's festivities had required.

Alustriel laughed softly, reaching out to brush her fingers against his cheek lightly, tucking back an errant strand of hair. "You, my ranger, are a charmer. Thank you. You look... well, but not entirely at ease. Shall we go on up?"

"Yes, please." He pushed into her touch a brief moment before setting his feet on the stairs, walking up with her so that she could get comfortable before he had to ask her aid.

That he was so willing to ask for help had been built strongly on a few things. The entire family had been quick to ask aid from him, once Dove had vouched for him, and he saw it as a good thing to not risk failure for lack of asking. But most firmly, he knew that his entire family would never have survived had it not been for the help given to his sister for long decades by her god. Help, no matter what alignment called to a person, was the backbone of success.

She went up just as lightly, her fingers brushing against him now and then from her relief at having him back, and moved to get out of her formal attire and into a comfortable robe -- a much easier task with his help -- before settling on the couch and reaching for him. "So?"

He willingly tucked into her arms, finding the way to lay there with ease of habit. "Menzoberranzan is planning an attack. They are training under light, and focused solely on a common goal at this point. I managed to secure potential allies for Bruenor in the shape of deep gnomes, and they were my source.

"I have no reason to disbelieve them, especially as the counselor I spoke with looked relieved to have a possible fallback for the young and old of his city. As Blingdenstone sits on the path to Mithral Hall from the city of my birth."

"That's certainly concerning -- one of the things that saves us is how much drow violence is turned against each other -- and... how terrible for them," Alustriel murmured, about the deep gnomes. "I am glad, though, to hear Bruenor will have more allies in the future. That might even be a route to supply the Promenade with some of the things they long for without so much risk, in time..."

"I had not considered that, but the Promenade is one of two things on my mind — that are not you, and enjoying a night in your care," he said, smiling softly up at her for the last. "I must ask to be put in touch with one of your sons, and then get myself down to your sister's demesnes, to plead for aid.

"As solid a cleric as Cobble is, he is but one man with a handful of acolytes. And we have no wizards." Drizzt sighed. "I've been trying to get Bruenor to employ one regularly, but he says they can get by."

"Of course," Alustriel replied, with an affectionate tightening of her arm around his back, "I'd have it no other way. I'll ask the boys who can be here in the morning, but I'll wait until you're done with that to warn Qi you need to go down there."

~Boys,~ she sent, across the anklet, aware some of them would be asleep, ~work out who of you can be here in the morning to talk to Drizzt on King Battlehammer's behalf, won't you?~

~One of us will be there, Mother,~ Tar sent back, his mind bright and alert in a way that said he'd been up to something.

~Always willing to help the Hall,~ Elin said, more drowsy but not sleep-laden, the vaguest impression of domestic peace flavoring his words.

Drizzt closed his eyes with a nod, thinking that was wise. He hated to ask any good drow to face their own people again, but at the same time… who better to coordinate resistance to drow magics?

~Thank you, loves,~ Alustriel answered, before turning her attention to the man she loved home safe in her arms. "Did you see anything particularly beautiful on your trek? Or particularly deadly?"

Drizzt considered, then began telling her of the journey, his brief skirmish with a juvenile hook horror, and the way the Underdark had looked to him this trip down, settling into this moment of peace with his beloved, knowing it for a treasure in the face of violence to come.

Elin was one of the two Tall Ones that appeared, joining Drizzt just after his vigil, and then Rae arrived just as the pair were breaking their fast with Alustriel before her busy day. Drizzt kept the topics light-hearted over the meal, and when the four left, the boys had to grin at each other for the deep kiss their mother shared with her chosen ranger.

That let Drizzt guide the pair back to his quarters, wanting to be as comfortable and as informal as he could be with the men he had aided more than a few times. He indicated they could have the couch, before snagging his stool to use so he could face them.

"I appreciate both of you coming," he began. "I scouted into the Underdark, on suspicion that plans were moving forward, after my winter visit in Rilauven revealed a clumsy attempt to assassinate my elder sister had happened."

"She's obviously alright," Elin began, an amused quirk to his mouth that the fate of an evil cleric mattered to their family, through him. "But… plans?"

"Drizzt mentioned a while back that there had been information indicating a two-pronged attack might happen on his family. One at him, through the Hall, and one on his family in the Underdark," Rae said. "I think you were mostly traveling with Lyrei and none of us wanted to bother you.

"We couldn't find anything from the Surface side."

"No. It is the city of my birth," Drizzt said. "They are training for a Surface attack, with the city lit to break their eyes of the blindness so many have under light.

"And the informants I found — deep gnomes — feel the attack will be sooner rather than later."

Elin frowned. "King Bruenor never did hire in a wizard staff, did he?"

Drizzt shook his head, and the elder half-human squared his shoulders. "Then one of us needs to go, and the rest of us be on standby, or rotating in and out, laying traps in his low tunnels."

"Against a whole city?" Rae pointed out.

"I suggested to Bruenor that perhaps the Harpells could also be involved," Drizzt said.

Rae and Elin both smiled, and nodded. "What they can do, with their stranger takes on magic," Elin began, "should half make up our inexperience with drow magic."

"I can handle that, and go be the coordinator for the king," Rae said. "What else? I know you, Ranger. You make multiple plans when you have time to prepare."

"I planned to get myself down to the Promenade, either by asking for a teleport or one of your mother's phantom steeds, since they last long enough to cross that distance.

"As Cobble is still the only full cleric, and if any of your aunt's people are willing to aid, they would be the most versed." Drizzt spread his hands helplessly. "I hate the idea of asking them to face other drow, and yet, needs must."

"Oh, you'll have enough volunteers to make the king nervous he'll have a colony of good drow to settle," Elin said firmly. "Aunt has a small cadre of people who exist for thwarting Lolth in all ways. She'll probably be glad to loan them out for something this big, and they'll be quite happy to have such a target."

Drizzt blinked. "Oh. I… did not know that."

Elin grinned. "They try hard to rein in the bloodthirst, to live peacefully, but they're the ones that most often go below to bring up new people when the situation could be very violent."

"I look forward to meeting them."

"Drizzt, you said the attempt on your sister was clumsy. Not the true attack?" Rae asked.

"No. And no, I have no idea what form of danger they will face, but as I told Catti and Bruenor… they have each other. The Hall only has me, for drow knowing. So. I stand with the Surface, and pray that my sister's Lord is as clever as ever in helping her evade harm."

"You know, I don't doubt that you actually have prayed to Him, probably made offerings for that… and it's got to be so perplexing to Him," Elin said, making them all burst out laughing. For someone as good as Drizzt to reach out to an evil deity was rather ludicrous. And yet, Drizzt knew it was one more part of why he and Vierna were both important links in the plans that each of the Twins had, for their ability to remain family, despite it all.

With Drizzt soundly asleep — still a precious gift, that he trusted her security enough to give himself to true rest — Alustriel reached out for her youngest sister ahead of the usual check in with all of them.

~Qilué, Drizzt will be coming that way on my phantom steed in the next few days; it is a dire situation.~

~If he is coming here, he must need drow assistance with it. Did he give any indication what he would need?~ Qilué asked. She then began her own sending. ~So that I have an idea of who he will need to speak to. We have many people out of the Promenade currently.~

~Specifically volunteer wizards, clerics, maybe fighters to defend Mithral Hall from all of Menzoberranzan invading there,~ Alustriel replied. She waited out the ten minute recharge, then sent again. ~He is very reluctant to ask other drow, and yet who better to advise the king and his people?~

Qilué's answer was immediate and filled with slight mirth. ~Oh I know just who to call back to speak to him. I will arrange it.~

They let that drop then, as Storm was calling for all of them, to share a happening out of Cormyr… and the Realm business never stopped for them.

Lleona had heard of Drizzt Do'Urden; there were not many in the far-flung enclaves of Eilistraee who had not by this point. She was surprised that none of her band had actually met the man, but his visits to the Promenade had been rare, and he did not range in the areas covered by the moving bands. Given how often the Marauders were actively hunting Lolthite trouble, she supposed it did make sense they hadn't — yet — overlapped.

She was very curious why the First had requested she get herself and the others back to the Promenade swiftly, and what the purple-eyed Ranger of Two Ladies had to do with it. She quelled Starneth's irritable complaints with a Look, the one that meant she would enforce discipline if he pushed her, as they set to making their camp in one of the glens near the hidden portals. There was no sense in going inside when the ranger would be arriving near here, and everything she'd heard said he was far more at ease in the wilds of the Surface than under rock.

Cirtlari finished tying off the last of tent ropes, checked the tensions, and stretched backwards, putting her fingertips on the ground behind her for a moment before she rose again. She took the couple of steps to reclaim her halberd, and moved to prowl the outer edge of the encampment.

Ilmryn cocked his head at their leader and asked, "Are we going to be here long enough for it to be worth my warding the camp, Lleona?"

They all knew that the Vhaeraunites of Skullport, and any number of other malicious folk, often prowled around the mountain, but the warding spells were some of his more powerful ones.

"Shouldn't," Lleona told him. "The Ranger is en route now, and while the First told me I had better make certain he rests at least a day, we may well be moving quickly after, if he has a quest to share with us."

"She says 'shouldn't' and that's going to mean trouble comes right away," Starneth muttered, making his cat lash her tail around his ankles. It got him sighed at, but they all knew he couldn't help but be the eternal pessimist.

Zira looked his way to say something to try and keep him from deteriorating in his mood, but her eye was caught by movement above the tree-line. She marked it as a phantom steed, tracking it, even as Mynera was. The creature was going to the nearest open spot to land, and yes, that was a drow upon its back. None of them broke cover, even when the magical creation vanished after the drow dismounted. They took in the small details that confirmed who he was — twin scabbards, forest-green cloak, unbound hair, and the faint amethyst glow of his eyes in the growing night's darkness — but made him find them.

Which, as a ranger, was a simple enough thing even with their custom of pitching camp to fit the land and blend in. He came close, but not into the true perimeter, and paused.

"I am seeking those the First Sister said may choose to help me," he said in an odd accent, at least to their ears.

"We are here," Cirtlari said, breaking her cover to come out with her halberd, "as you can be no-one but Drizzt Do'Urden. I am Cirtlari."

"Greetings," he said, inclining his head to her before looking at the impressive pole-arm. "I am already intrigued; not many fighters I have seen specialize with that kind of weapon." He smiled before looking toward Starneth who had defiantly pushed forward, Shasta now on his shoulders and digging her claws into the reinforced cloth there to hold on. Behind him, Zira pushed to her feet, wishing their sorcerer had more self-preservation.

"Starneth. And Shasta, as I know you nature-types prefer to talk to the animals. She's my familiar."

"She reminds me of one I owe my life to, long ago," Drizzt answered that.

"Zira, and please don't mind Starneth's manners; he lost them at birth," the taller woman behind the magic-user said.

"I live among dwarves," Drizzt said, to show he understood ill manners.

Ilmryn chuckled for a moment at that. "I have never met any, but I have heard much. "I am Ilmryn. Welcome."

Cirtlari smiled. "I was a tizzin-rider, once, which meant training to use the halberd on and off my mount. Once you have rested, I would be interested in sparring with you. But for now, come and sit, meet the rest of us."

"I never refuse a spar," Drizzt said, following into the camp proper and setting his pack down for a backrest, before looking at the rest. One by one, Mynera, Nalaessysn, Jhuldrin, Ginnim, Ranearid, and Neerbryn were all introduced, with Drizzt only pausing briefly on Mynera as she looked almost familiar in the way she wore her hair. Living among dwarves had given him an eye for spotting braid patterns.

Then Lleona pulled his attention with the subtle presence she used on others. "The First Sister said that you needed us, but not why. Care to open up now, or after a rest?"

"I've been on the steed most of the day; there's nothing truly to rest from," Drizzt said. "Bluntly, the city of my birth is planning an excursion close to the Surface, by invading the dwarven hall I protect and sometimes live within. Dwarves do not run strong on magic or numerous on clerics.

"And they have never faced drow. I hesitated to reach out, to ask other drow to come fight beside us, but have been assured that some of us see it as an avocation."

"We do, at that," Ilmryn agreed, baring his teeth, his silver hair gleaming. "Our Lady might prefer to rescue them, but those who fully serve the Spider-Bitch, and have Her power, have to be stopped. And when they come to assault those who have no protection from them, they have to be stopped hard. You came to the right group."

"When you say 'city'," Lleona began, "what do you mean?"

"I mean that the entirety of Menzoberranzan is training under lights, and means to send a full army," Drizzt said soberly. "My friends need clerics versed in dealing with undead, in stopping the clerics they bring from animating the dwarven corpses, in negating evil cleric spells.

"I need fighters who know how to avoid spells thrown at them to back me, as I plan to make it a very costly invasion for them."

"You? How?" Zira asked, seeing a passion in the ranger she could admire, where it came to protecting his friends.

"I mean to hunt the high priestesses that come, Matrons or elder daughters — the fastest way to rout a drow force is to punish those in the Spider's grace." Drizzt shrugged. "I just need to be able to get to them, and make a difference for my friends' sake."

"He's nuttier than me," Starneth declared, as most of their band stared at the quiet confidence that this ranger could make that much of a difference.

"I can help get you to them," Ilmryn said, "but getting through their magical defenses to actually strike them..."

"Leave that to me," Jhuldrin said, grimly. "Just get me somewhere defensible and I'll make an anti-magic field gem, command-word activated. I do need a month to do it, and I'm going to be useless for anything else. But I can do it."

"I want to watch you do that," Starneth decreed, curious if he could ever figure out artifact making. Something like that would be priceless.

"Any components used, as well as your time and energy, will be compensated," Drizzt said, his eyes shining with hope at hearing that from Jhuldrin. "They are dwarves, and believe in fair bargains. When we took the Hall from Haerinvureem, they paid an ounce mithral dust to every gold piece value of the materials used by the Tall Ones.

"The Tall Ones refused compensation for their time or fighting, because a shadow dragon was a potential threat to their own homeland." Drizzt smiled fondly.

"That'd go a fair way toward getting us weapons, maybe even armor," Ranearid said with a nod. "And think of how much gear infused with faerzress we can take to offer here, or stash for our own use below."

"That will be our price then," Lleona said. "All the drow gear, plus cost of components."

"Bruenor will agree," Drizzt said. "As even the svirfneblin will not want the gear." He held his hand out to the bard, offering the Surface custom for sealing a deal.

Ilmryn nodded, finding that a good deal, and looked to see Lleona take the ranger's hand and shake.

"Now, food, and sparring," Nalaessysn said, having been considering the twin swords, and wondering how he'd do with his wrist buckler and short sword against them.

Drizzt just grinned. "My two favorite things."

Sealing the Future: Chapter Four

Zak -- once he had gotten a few more sendings out of his son via their stones, and had a better understanding of what his idiot child had done -- had gone off to the fighters' school and found one of the better instructors to spar with for a few hours until he could get his vexation under control. He returned for dinner and kept his demeanor light and even for Yasdra's sake, until they had her tucked into bed for the night, then he settled with Vierna, his hands flashing.

"Our damned fool son has gone down into the Underdark under Mithral Hall seeking information."

"He did what?!" she signed very sharply back at him. All of the ways that could have gone wrong flashed through her mind, spiking anger and fear along her veins.

"I know," Zak agreed in frustration, watching as his daughter's cheeks and throat heated slightly with her distress. "He's back to the Surface safely, and he had sense enough to go seeking Blingdenstone rather than the city itself, but still."

He sighed, shaking his head. "He somehow managed to get the gnomes to talk to him," how that had happened, he had no idea, though he had no particular worry over Drizzt's ability to protect himself against gnomes, at least, "and the word isn't good. They're training the soldiers under light, in that city."

Vierna's lips thinned as she knew what that meant. A Surface attack, or near enough, and her brother's damnable dwarven denizens were the most likely target, even without prior warning. "So he will be tied down to that place, until the attack is managed," she surmised. "I will have to point out that an attack on Temple grounds is likely to the Temple Herald." She had done what they could to only involve Nalatar, as a proven ally, and occasionally Dhaunae, who seemed willing to help.

However, she did not dare risk whatever was afoot angering the High Priest of her Lord to the point that they lost refuge here.

Zak nodded. "Likely wise."

It would not be beyond the Spider Bitch to use Menzoberranzan readying for mischief in one place to hide an attack against his daughter, who had deceived her for so long.

"We know something is coming; that is more warning than we've had at times." Vierna gave a half-shrug. "We will meet this and defeat it, my father.

"And, even if our son manages to do something stupid and get himself killed, I have no doubt that his wizard-lover won't let that stand for long."

"There is that," Zak had to agree, "there is that."

Such a strange thing, to think of a woman willing to expend so much in resources and connections for a male, but... he did believe it of that one.

One of Her minor servitors came floating through the chaos of the Demonweb Pits, chirring and hissing. That one, She had set to watch a very particular cocoon, placed exactly where it could draw power from the Abyss, from Her, from the souls of Her faithful -- the demon Her once-priestess was becoming must be freeing herself.

What a time for it, She thought, with Menzoberranzan planning to attack the dwarves that sheltered the remaining son of a fallen house. She rose, laughing to Herself -- all around Her, souls and demons cringed from Her laughter -- and went to observe.

Indeed, the hanging cocoon was shredding, showing flashes of jet black and bright white, and Lloth waited, two fingers against Her jaw. It did not, really, take long for the demon within to claw the cocoon apart enough to be seen.

The face was -- mostly -- still drow, though her original two eyes were now larger, multi-faceted, and she had two more, just before her ears. Her red lips bulged slightly over... ah, yes, fangs in her mouth, Lloth saw as she took a deep breath, surely full of a terrible venom. Her hair was still fine-stranded, thick and white as could be, unruly at the moment.

Plates of obsidian chitin streaked with red and gold covered her brow, shoulders and throat, wrapped in bands around her ribs and belly, fanned down from her hips and protected her thighs. Likely she had no sex organs remaining -- Briza had never cared at all for that pastime.

When she could stand, Lloth thought she would be more than eight feet tall, with the breadth of shoulder to match. Her arms had an extra joint, now, and each hand's ring-finger and thumb had changed to end in glorious claws. A bit like her abyssal widows, her once-priestess had a set of spider-legs -- obsidian streaked with ruby -- extending from her mid-ribs and curving forward, the claws on those thrust out through the cocoon clicking. Hmmm, no, not only claws, spinnerets had migrated there, how fascinating!

Her legs and feet were still very drow, no further joints, no changes to claws or other mutations -- she would stand as light and easy as she ever had.

The lids over the main eyes blinked -- an odd sight -- and then the demon moved, looking for ground. She jumped from the wrappings and landed, folding down to kneel at Her feet, bowing her head to her chest, hands and the claws of the spider-legs pressed to the stone. "My goddess," the demon that had once been Briza Do'Urden breathed, "what is Your pleasure?"

"Oh My pleasure will be seeing you hunt your prey, My beautiful destroyer," Lloth crooned as She took in all of the changes that would make this one an effective match for not just the traitor but her blasphemous father!

"You're younger than your brother for formal training," Zaknafein said, moving around his youngest child and adjusting her feet with his own, then her arms. "But he came to me already knowing how to hold a knife, even how to throw it properly. One of the others had probably shown him how and set him to hunting the spider-killers while he was Page Prince.

"You did well on throwing knives this past year, so now — you will learn close fighting with the knife your brother sent back for you."

Yasdra tried to be malleable to the movements, the corrections, knowing that no one had wanted her to start learning this at her young age, but everyone had conceded she was — by virtue of youth — the most at risk in their family.

"Nalatar said it took the spells, keen and call to hand, beautifully. They did not want to risk those by adding any cleric spells," Yasdra said.

"I know." Zaknafein then moved to where he was beside her, and called up his faerie fire so that the reflective surface could show her his movements. "Match me, daughter, as we walk through the basic stances. You will practice them daily, until perfect, at least two hours a day."

"I will not fail you, Father." She made up her mind to perfect this skill swiftly, so that she too could join in the sparring that made her siblings and father breathless with joy.

"You never do, my little shadow."

Kadresh Olonrae was not an unapproachable man. He'd had no reason to regret backing Malavon Despana in the coup that had brought their god to prominence, and he'd managed to stay high in Vhaeraun's favor, a fact highlighted by them acquiring the Masked Traitor from Menzoberranzan and her family, giving them unprecedented access to knowledge of Lolth's inner workings in Her church.

He rather regretted, on one level, the necessity of today's interview, and arranged for it to be in his apartment, not the chapel or any of the offices maintained for the day in and day out work of managing the temple and school.

His personal shadow-helper answered the door for him, then guided Vierna to the chair opposite Kadresh's own.

"Good evening, Vierna," he said, setting a less formal tone on purpose.

"Good evening, Kadresh," Vierna replied, matching informality for informality, wondering -- and fairly certain she knew -- what the purpose was. With Vhaeraun actively concerned about some threat to her, and the news from Menzoberranzan all being bad... her family might well be too great a danger to the Temple itself, now. "Has the day treated you well?"

"It has. I spent much of it in a meeting with my friend, Malavon." Kadresh waited a beat while she placed the name as the Arch Mage of the city, the de facto ruler of it all, in fact. "I wished to keep him apprised of developments, after you spoke with me last, and today was our first chance to do so.

"You are very aware that we must maintain the upper hand of strength, and that includes protecting our future fighters and wizards, as well as the acolytes here, Vierna. Your dedication to preserving drow lives for future endeavors is rather legendary."

"I thought this might be your purpose," Vierna agreed, nodding, "and I cannot disagree. What suggestions do you have, for the protection of my father and sister, without endangering the whole of the Temple and Academy?"

Kadresh smiled at how easily she had accepted the necessity. He did admire her; her deception had run longer and deeper than nearly any performed within their own city to make certain the coup here had not cost too many lives. That it was the protection of her father and her sister-heir only added to her prestige in his eyes.

"A small house, temporary as I know you have plans to found your own in time, that sits near the concourse leading up to us here," he offered. "Near enough that our experienced combatants can get down to you at the first sign of intrusion, yet away from our vulnerable youth.

"We see this as a fight for all of Vhaeraun's faithful, given any intrusion of the Dying Spider is an insult and threat all in one."

Vierna considered that, then nodded. Unlike in Menzoberranzan, she did not doubt that if the Twilight Herald said there would be experienced fighters, they would come when the threat showed itself. It was a strange feeling, to have any such faith in an outsider, but he had proven himself worthy of that trust over the years her family had lived here. "That seems reasonable," she agreed. "Will you go with me to inspect the one you have in mind, or is there another you plan to send? And when do you have in mind?"

"We can walk down and see the location now, if you wish. You may direct your chosen people to go and prepare it as you wish; they will be removed from the rosters and assigned to you," he began. "This is only a prelude to your future; you will overcome whatever difficulty comes your way.

"But you should begin with those you, and your father, have chosen to trust for your eventual House."

Vierna smiled at the obvious certainty in the Twilight Herald's voice, and felt it buoy her up a little more. "I am finished with my tasks for the day," she agreed, "so it seems a good time. May I avail myself of the Temple's Provisioner to arrange provisions, once we have moved?"

Vhaeraun could provide, if utterly necessary, but it was best not to ask her god for what mortal effort could provide except in extreme need.

"You have more than enough credit built from your efforts — and your odd brother — to request all of the starting goods." Kadresh stood up then, gesturing for her to join him. "I will be certain to make it known to provide all assistance within reason."

Tokrasz, once of House M'lnath, now loyalty-sworn to House Do'Urden, was not about to let his Matron or her kin find him lacking as he personally kept an eye on the moving in. He might have begun as a fighter, and would always choose his blade over most things, but it was not right for her or her father to have to see to the minutiae. He had been the first to swear loyalty to the House, because of Drizzt Do'Urden's ability and his compassion in not killing him once the younger man had incapacitated him.

He had done everything he could since then to learn to be a stronger fighter, and to give neither of the elders of the House reason to reject him. This, overseeing the situation of their goods and the other fighters so all was in line for their observation later? That was done out of sheer respect for the Matron's father, who had helped him grow stronger.

"Seems you took my suggestion to heart," Zaknafein said, which did actually startle Tokrasz halfway to the Pits, but he managed to contain the reaction — and caught the bare hint of approval in Zak's eyes for managing that. "How many weaknesses have you identified?"

"If I have found even half the ones you already have, I will count myself lucky, and try harder to see the ones you point out," Tokrasz told him, knowing Zak did not want subservience to the point of being a lackey.

"Walk the property with me; I think Yasdra is of half a mind to try bossing the others around," Zak drawled in a droll tone. Tokrasz grinned; the young heiress was very firmly aware of her station, but also doing all she could to be worthy of her title. He liked that, much as he liked most things about the family he now served.

"We won't remain here," he did broach, once they started walking. "It's lacking."

"No. This is just a step forward. We'll brief everyone after Vierna is satisfied with our settling matters."

"Good," the young man said, glad that his Matron wasn't being slighted with such a small property. Zak clapped a warm hand on his shoulder, and they saw to finding all of the defensive holes in the property.

There was nothing quiet about an abyssal gate opening, and every magic user that had thrown their aid into making the wards on the property took psychic wounds from having them breached so violently. The fighters were moving, converging on the invasion, giving the wizards and clerics time to gather themselves, and Vierna's phalanx of skeleton fighters were rising to meet the foes first.

The cambion — given lordship over the draegloths and leaning hard into his task to avoid being made a slave of any fiend again — was positioning them to break apart the undead, sizing up the living fighters with swords and shields and crossbows. Those were fired swiftly at the chwidencha pair that emerged behind the first four invaders, in hopes of slowing the grotesque but dangerous spider-legged monsters with poisons that had been brewed for maximum lethality.

Behind all of these foes for the House to fight came the true threat, one that ignored the pitiful prey in front of her — for now — and leaped to the upper balcony, hunting the heretical traitor that was her true target. She could taste the blood that had once linked them as sisters, ached to tear apart the treacherous one bit by bit in honor of her goddess. Alongside that drive, she would have the pleasure of destroying the blaspheming male that her weak mother had kept at her side for far too long, allowing his poisonous ways to seep through the House.

Zaknafein had, in setting the defenses, given Tokrasz command of the forces, intent on staying near Vierna. It was sheer bad luck and timing that Yasdra had been with them when the wards blew, and he flicked a command to her to go up, into one of the alcoves, as better than nothing for protection. If he could move the fight away from this point, she would flee with stealth.

Why in all the names of his blades hadn't he traded with her mother to actually take the girl until this was done?!

Vierna was doubled over, hands clutching her temples, for three long moments, before she pulled herself together. She'd known by the spells not being the ones she'd intended to pray for that she had come out of her meditations with that today was going to be a difficult day. She still hadn't expected this!

She activated the cloak of Chaos sitting in her mind, wrapping it around herself, Zaknafein, Yasdra, and -- no, no-one else was in range, damn. So long as the attack came quickly (it seemed to be) they would have some minor advantages.

Briza -- for she knew it was Briza coming -- wanted to bring demons? Well. Two could play at that. She gave thanks to Vhaeraun and called a babau she knew well to her. "Attack anything from the abyssal planes, Toraigath, and enjoy your feasting!"

With luck, Vierna's junior cleric had also been gifted with better spells to suit the fight ahead, while she knew that the woman's consort kept combat spells at hand; it was one thing he'd promised when she accepted his family. His apprentice — their daughter — might well be incapacitated just by the wards being blown to pieces, as she was just truly settling into the crafting of them.

The sound of battle being joined on the lower level was reassuring in itself; Zak had personally trained Tokrasz for years now, and while the man wasn't naturally gifted for combat, he had a keen mind for tactics and would be a strong leader. Right now, he needed to find every advantage he could keep against what they must face.

Toraigath gave a cruel, vicious smile with all of its sharp teeth visible, rushing to get his fill of the abyssal creatures, pleased to have the alliance of one so favored who asked so little of him. His hissing screech as he saw the demon upon the gallery of this floor was warning enough to the family to prepare. He flung himself down, though, sensing the divinely unholy power driving this thing that was like, but unlike, the abyssal widows.

That screech was no portent of anything good, Vierna was certain, but she could do little against what came until she could see it.

What filled the entry point of the common room next was something out of Zaknafein's worst nightmares. Standing over eight feet tall, a demonic creature that had some points in common with the abyssal widows, yet... not as ineffectively. The spider legs in their ruby-streaked obsidian terror were clawed, the remaining drow-like body showing red-gold streaked chitin armor plates, while white hair clouded around a face featuring faceted eyes, with an extra pair. The mouth was more muzzle like, extending out, but the lips were drawn back showing fangs that threatened venom with their bite.

Even at that, he could see that this bore resemblance to the eldest child of his one-time matron, and a small voice in the back of his mind said 'beastly' had become truth in form as much as spirit.

A guttural growl escaped his throat as the presence of this creature drew forth all of his anger, all of his suffering, and every need to protect his family.

It took Vierna no longer than it had taken Zaknafein to recognize what had once been her sister, and she cursed under her breath -- this was going to be awful. She wrapped her hand around the symbol of her faith hanging around her throat and cried out the trigger word for the most powerful destructive spell she had. It didn't have the effect she wanted, this demon was strong and tough enough to shake off the full instantaneous cremation, but she did snarl in pain.

The demon locked eyes with her, made a small gesture, and Vierna felt the hideous effects of a spell she'd only ever read about -- she didn't yet have the strength to cast it -- begin to take hold. With all her strength, she resisted the effect, and felt it fade from her. First blood to her, and her sister's first spell failed, if barely.

Zaknafein had to employ every trick of control he'd ever learned as the demonic creature was situated perfectly to block any chance of getting this out of the enclosed space — and entirely too close to the alcove that Yasdra was hiding herself in. Those spider-legs looked fully functional, but most of the weight and momentum seemed to be in the drow pair. His eyes took in the subtle differences that indicated the spider-legs could probably support wall climbing, meaning the battlefield could be vertical even without levitation. The plates of chitin meant his attacks of opportunity would need to slide between them… and all while avoiding claw and fang.

He took in every advantage and disadvantage in the same space of time that the two had used for spellcraft, with his first rushing attack going for the leg furthest back, just to test the edges of his ensorcelled blades on that chitin. He had no intention of staying in close, but it also allowed him to change his vector to be able to more directly tangle the demon up to keep it away from Vierna.

The spider-limb on that side swung at him, claw raking against armor without piercing, and the demon shrieked with rage as she lost control of the spell she had been in the middle of casting. His blade did shear into the chitin, drawing dark blood, another shriek, and a swing of one fist towards him that just barely missed.

Vierna took a breath of relief and flung herself into the ethereal plane, fading out of sight. As soon as she was solidly in the ethereal plane, she ran towards the shadowy form of the demon as quickly as she could, then around it. Zaknafein would not believe she had abandoned him, but the demon might. She just had to get to where she could get her hands onto the demon.

There was a surge of something visceral, a satisfaction that one daughter was out of the danger zone, as Zaknafein his speed to attack limbs, not the body, dodging the counterattacks with the skill of centuries. He had to keep her from noticing —

— and too many years of being out of the danger of constant eavesdropping on his mind chilled his blood, or maybe it had been a scent that drew the demon's gaze. Was the demon seeking something to lure her true target back into the fight, or had Zak's worry over Yasdra shifted some of the attention up?

Vierna made it behind the demon, jumped for the demon's shoulders, and phased back into reality. She caught chitin plates in both hands, shoved her feet onto the body-joints of the spider limbs, and started converting every spell she still had into pure attacks of negative energy. With every fifth breath, she slammed another bolt through.

The demon went berserk under her, trying to reach around and grab her -- probably to return the favor -- and she was taking harm just from having hold of such a malicious force, one intended specifically to find and destroy her, but if Briza didn't pay attention to what was in front of her, Zaknafein would cut her throat.

True to that prediction, Zak came in with a dual attack, making her have to pull back to evade, using one spinneret to spit web-silk — venom-laced — to try and slow him down. As he was dodging that, she bunched her muscles and then shook, attempting to fling her prey off her to get a better stance against both.

Vierna had the best grip she could, but she was between her attacks and went flying. She caught herself with her levitation half a heartbeat before she slammed into her little sister -- and the demon was turning towards them!

She kept herself hovering there, praying for Yasdra to get more behind her, lighting her hands with darkfire, ready to throw as soon as she could.

Yasdra was afraid. It was not an emotion she had known until the demon came into the room. Hiding, remaining still, these were the things she had been meant to do. Her knife, though, the one with spells on it, had come to her hand in response to fear for their lives. And as her sister slammed into her, she did not lose hold of it. She was as much a child of Zaknafein as Vierna, though, and instinct guided her to throw the knife as a distraction, to buy seconds.

Father said battles were decided in seconds.

Even terrified, her aim was impeccable, and Briza could not quite protect the eye the missile came at, the secondary one nearer to her ear on that side of her face. It was a minor wound, a small inconvenience, but Briza had never tolerated such. She keened, her demonic origin making the sound reverberate through the room and house with challenge, calling fear into the souls of those that heard it.

A father who had been given the chance to raise one child, to see another fully into adulthood, who fiercely loved the daughter who had made it all possible could not — quite — shake the fear it brought in him, preying upon his dedication to his family. With the demon looking up, that fear translated immediately into action, and he was engaging the demon with no thought but destroying it.

Vierna flung her darkfire at the demon's face, following Yasdra's knife, and Briza's hair ignited in a stinking blaze, and cast a dimension door behind her, with its other end on the far side of the room, next to the door, to get Yasdra out.

Her little sister dove through it, rolled as she hit the floor, and ran out the door.

That two imps made of shadow-stuff came out with her was one more sign of Vhaeraun's favor on them. The imps were staying close to Yasdra, one taking her hand, the other obscuring the air around them with shadow-smoke, so they could protect the heiress, taking her to the cook's protection, where there were smaller places to be hidden.

Briza was screeching violently, her limbs all working to try and stop the relentless assault on her from two enchanted swords in the hands of a master. Zaknafein felt no pain as her claws or blows landed. Every strike released more demon ichor, every parry of a limb took away chitin or flesh. He was silent, death in its most dangerous guise, though his teeth were bared in the ferocity he used to cleave away at the demon.

Vierna dropped to the floor, rolled towards the melee, caught the demon's ankle in both hands and slammed another bolt of negative energy into their foe. 'What is it going to take to kill you?!' she thought, almost in despair, before she had to roll away from the sick color of a disintegration spell somehow fired from Briza's palm despite how fractured her concentration had to be with the wounds she was taking. It left a ten foot wide pit in her floor, down to the next level, making things dangerous, but she was alive.

The demon had tried to kill Vierna. That spell left nothing to bring a person back from, despite that Zaknafein would sell himself into slavery to do so.

He slammed his blade into the demon's torso, breaking ribs. He used it to pull himself up, keeping it as his anchor, shortening his grip on the second sword. He saw that awful maw coming for him, fangs bared and ready to rip into him, but he never faltered, driving the second sword up from the belly into the heart region.

Vierna got to her feet only just in time to see fangs and claws sink into her father, but also to see the life-heat spilling out in gouts of blood from the horrific wounds Zaknafein's reckless attacks had torn from the demon's core. She grabbed on to him as the demon started to topple into the pit, bracing herself to keep him from falling with it and her ears heard the crunch of chitin and flesh as the demon hit the floor below.

There was a shriek of fear from a voice she did not recognize, and then a shout of a spell of destruction.

Zaknafein was limp in her arms as she got further from the drop, possibly the heaviest weight she'd ever carried, and she stumbled, going to her knees in her exhaustion, reaching for her healing spells -- but she had spent all of those carefully prepared spells, so unnatural to her, in her attempt to kill the demon. Nothing came to her, as she tried to staunch the bleeding from his throat.

She'd pushed herself too hard, trying to cast that on top of everything else, and she felt herself sliding into black unconsciousness.

Sealing the Future: Chapter Five

Tar was up at the Surbrin Gate, looking at ways to rig traps in case the drow decided to earth- or rock- shape their way to the surface. There was always the off-chance that Lolth would call on those few surface deities She had dealings with to make life difficult from both sides.

He looked over as an incoming teleport started, the shimmery light of a full moon seeming to highlight the area that was in deep shade, and had a distinctive rock outcrop to help matters.

There was no need to be worried, he decided, even if it was a dozen drow, because he knew the garb of surface drow well — and hey, that was his mother's ranger! More, the wizard wiping his brow after managing his half of the teleport on the side closer was well known to Tar, and he excused himself to jog over.

"Jhuldrin," Tar said, not quite able to help the slide in his voice.

It got a chuckle out of the wizard, even as he was scanning the other half being brought in by Nalaessysn. "Hey there, handsome," the drow wizard said, before taking in the dwarves and humans that were observing them now. "I know we are expected but… wow, liking the discipline."

"Yeah, once the Lady of Silverymoon," and Tar's eyes sparkled for being formal about her, "passed on that the ranger had gone for allies, I have been talking up your band. So has Rae; he's somewhere in the mines right now. But we both have met you."

"It's appreciated," Lleona said, having taken in everything. "Jhuldrin's going to need a workspace, Tar; he's got a crafting to tend to. Nalaessysn and both clerics can work with your brother — brothers? — to see to preparing the passages with their own tricks.

"But first, we should be introduced to those in command, the king and his advisers, aside from this absolutely terrifying ranger."

"I am not," Drizzt defended himself.

"I'm on her side," Tar said. "Catti's coordinating the surface side of things, Drizzt, but the last I knew, Bruenor and the others were down below the city and forges; they're using the inner guard station as a planning point. And yeah, the deep gnomes sent envoys with more knowledge while you were gone.

"I can take Jhuldrin to the workshop, and Drizzt can guide the rest of you?" Tar did not comment on her not having assigned Starneth to trap duty; he remembered the sorcerer was rather high-strung.

"That will work nicely," Lleona told him. "Ranger?"

Tar noted that Drizzt had that look, the one he got whenever anyone deferred immediately to his guidance. Mother said it was even funnier when it was herself or one of the aunts, so that was probably in play. Lleona was very put-together in how she ran her band after all. He slung an arm around Jhuldrin's shoulders, guiding him to the wizardly maker-space, intent on learning what he could… and didn't sigh when both Starneth and Zira peeled off the main group to follow them.

He'd just have to be quieter with his flirting, if there were opportunities to do so.

Bruenor sized up the band of drow, nodding that three of them were up above still, but all of them were wearing garments with moons and swords visibly stitched in, setting them apart from any potential sneaking evil ones. He rather liked the look of that one fighter, Cirtlari, and how she handled herself. It was also good to see his own elf settled in his skin around other like him.

"I will be handling most of the counter-prayer spells," the one cleric… Mynera… was saying. "That will free Ilmyrn to actually stick close to Drizzt when he takes the fight to the leadership."

"The rest of us will stay focused on picking off as many wizards and weapon masters as we can," Ginnim added. "We've never gone up against a whole city, but we've seen odds of four to one in a lot of our actions down below."

"Any and all help will be welcome, aye," Bruenor said. "Ye certain the terms fit?"

"The gear we salvage will help expand the farming caverns for our people," Lleona told him. "What can be salvaged and un-cursed might be useful to us in our caches we keep below the faerzress for our own operations. And the cost of components is a simple necessity we bow to, because we must have the tools of our trades."

"Aye, there's always that. Cannae smith with nae hammer," Bruenor told her with a nod. "Glad tae have yer band with us, aye!" and he shoved his hand out to shake on the deal. She took it gladly, ready to canvas the battleground to keep her band alive through it, and as many of these dwarves as possible.

Jarlaxle, leader of Bregan D'aerthe, often disliked the life around him. For one, he had to manage all of his people, keep them from stepping over often invisible lines of behavior so no idiotic priestess killed one of them just because she had a bad mood that day. In this case, though, it was the head of the city being an idiot. He'd couched his advice to her as diplomatically as possible. He'd tried to nudge Gromph — who was not going, and that meant Gromph was hoping Jarlaxle was right — and Triel alike to see reason.

So, time to plan. He would see this through as anything less would have his band killed out of hand, or tortured for all time, and either way, there was no profit. Yet, he wasn't ready to cut his purse strings where his most reliable source of information outside of Lloth's reach was concerned. He worked out his contingency plans, and muttered a few times that Drizzt Do'Urden better appreciate being kidnapped if that was what it came down to!

Mynera dropped beside Drizzt after a long day of preparing what they could, the latest in a long line of such. None of the others were with them, and Drizzt's staring down the corridor that led to the main gate was worrying. The longer preparations dragged on, the more edged, the more silent this man became. Mynera agreed with Lleona; Drizzt was terrifying, both in his weapon skill and how close to Destiny he seemed to walk.

"You had asked why I seemed familiar," she began, taking up a previous conversation. "Heard you talking about family in Rilauven. That's where I am from, House Vaer."

Drizzt's eyes widened, and then he nodded. "I helped teach a few younger fighters of that House, when I still lived there," he said. "You wear your braids in their style still. I think I was failing to parse that because you are so favored by the Dark Maiden."

Mynera laughed. "Yes, She does. My House turned before the full coup that came after I left. My uncle, who had been the driving force behind managing that, liked the spirit I had when I declined both the Spider and the Masked God as patrons."

He nodded. "It is good, though, that family matters strongly for the Masked God's followers in that city. I have not found it as strong, or the command to not kill other drow needlessly, in some of their enclaves I have ran into. To those places' detriment."

"Lleona tries to keep us out of fights with their people," Mynera admitted, "as some are halfway to a better understanding of life. But we will defend ourselves. Our true fight will always be with Her." She made the dying spider gesture, and Drizzt nodded.

"Our people as a whole cannot move forward until that one's reign is ended, yes," Drizzt agreed.

"All of us… we've had to learn a lesson," Mynera began. "If we let what She has done to our people shape us too much, we become part of the problem." She met his eyes. "I know you are worried for your friends here and the family you have elsewhere, but I say this with a knowing of who we are.

"Do not lose yourself in hating what Her people are doing, or you may find yourself at that edge."

Drizzt considered her words, felt the shape of them. "I cannot, will not, betray all my sister is, all she did, or all that I am drawn to be by falling into the hate. I swear it."

She smiled softly, then pushed back up to go find her friends, more secure in trusting the ranger not to lead them into a no-win situation.

The first attack came soon after their band had arrived, an assault with enslaved ettin and goblins against the lowest doors. Cirtlari was awakened by the noise of the first warding spell Nalaessyssn had set not far out from the doors, rather than the hammering on them, and hurried to join those waiting. The doors would fail eventually, in the face of clerics and wizards if not to the slaves or even common soldiers, but they had time enough to settle and respond to it.

Dagna had stationed solid fighters at this point, and one of them blew the whistle that made no sound… but alerted every primary leader of the rest of the units to rouse and be ready. Ginnim could distantly hear the shifting of weapons and armor, but he was with the second line of defenses. Once Cirtlari, and the first line, fell back behind their shield and lance wall, there was a trap to trigger, to turn the concourse between them and this door into acidic mud.

Nalaessysn had mentioned wanting to learn that variation.

All too soon, the first of the splinters from the door flew, and it was not much after that for the full combat to begin. The drow working with the dwarves — under illusion this time, to keep from being targeted — used all of their expertise to keep their allies alive. Retreat, strategically planned in advance, would bring the invaders into ever heavier, more deadly traps. The defenders just had to keep their enemies from realizing that was the goal.

Drizzt, with his team, were waiting in a hunter's blind, outside the main defenses, with the ranger as deep in prayer as he dared go. Their part of the plan hinged on him being able to find the head of the army, those who were guiding it, and wreak havoc there. His body was relaxed, his armor and swords darkened with spells to hide them as surely as the gear their enemies would be using. His hilts were in his hands already, blades crossed over his bent legs, always a solid focus for him, no matter which goddess he called upon. Mielikki, after all, used the same style, and Eilistraee was Mistress of Swords.

He did not mind that he was, to his way of thinking, putting himself deeper in Their debt; he would never stop aiding Their causes short of death. The number of lives he could save now, the ability to keep drow poison from getting a grip on land so near the surface, meant he felt it wise to call on all his abilities… including divine favors.

Dimly, he knew when the alerts carried into the Hall, as the enchanted whistles were attuned to all the clerics had blessed for the day. Without conscious thought, still focused on the divine requests, he let one sword go and picked up the Gutbuster potion at his side, draining it. It raced through him, enhancing stamina and reducing his ability to feel pain.

And then he could see the distinct layers of rock in a specific tunnel, long-since learned by him in preparing for this day. Some brave lizard had been found by his primary patron, to show him his targets. The potion flask was left to lay there, hilt back in hand, and he sprang to his feet, plotting out the fastest course to the coven of evil clerics. His team would keep up with him; he knew better than to out-pace them at this point.

Ilmryn ran behind Drizzt, watching the altered fluidity of the ranger's always-lithe stride with a flicker of concern -- what was that brew, to have such an effect? -- and keeping eyes out ahead. Spells to block malicious spellcrafting, to break wards, to dispel malign magic waited behind his lips as they raced along the tunnels. Jhuldrin ran behind him, the exhausting work of a month in a separate pouch around his neck, waiting only the keyword to release.

The fastest way there was not the easiest, requiring the trio to squeeze through a fissure barely wide enough to allow the passage, but that was the only moment in which Drizzt slowed. He paused on the other side, got his bearings as the two men joined him, before taking off toward the corridor the women were going to intersect very shortly. There, he did stop, and activated the ring of spider crawl, the design mimicking the pirate spiders Vierna had raised — heretical in their care of young and mates — so that he could go up, situating himself in the darkness there.

Nothing could yet be heard, but both Ilmryn and Jhuldrin knew the ranger had asked for divine aid in this hunt, so the enemy would soon be here, a place that favored the ranger for fighting… and offered shadows enough for his allies to work from.

Ilmryn took advantage of that they weren't present yet to dart halfway to the intersection point. He started pouring a thin stream of mixed holy water and silver dust along the edge of the wall, crossing the tunnel, and backwards. He successfully enclosed what he reckoned would be the battleground, and began calling down Eilistraee's blessing on this cavern. Every slight advantage they could get, he would take. Hidden deep in one of the shadows, he waited with the last syllable held behind his teeth, burning against his lips, until half a dozen women had crossed the line of silver, then breathed it out.

The sound of matron mothers stifling sudden noises of pain were a delight to his ears. The fact that the mind flayer -- shit, no-one told him about a mind flayer! -- also cried out was even better.

On the opposite side of the cavern, Jhuldrin lifted his hand and cast disintegrate at the mind flayer hovering slightly above the rest of the group.

Drizzt would have cheered for that, if he wasn't keeping as silent as possible, judging the pack of women, the filthy dwarven prisoner in the midst of them near the withered, ancient —

— Baenre!

He might be decades away from the city of his birth's lessons, but no drow was so small and withered as she in all he could remember!

He counted his targets, making certain to embody Baenre's death in every thought he held, to give the city he'd been born to a true chance to change away from her iron grip of Llothite fear and customs.

The clerics were attempting to regroup, trying to target their attackers, and when Jhuldrin activated the anti-magic artifact, Drizzt was already dropping into their midst, a deadly whirlwind of skill and determination.

Ilmryn drew his own longsword -- not consecrated, inside the range of Jhuldrin's work, but still a masterwork blade -- and followed Drizzt into the fray with all the skill centuries of training in the physical worship of the lady of the blade had granted him.

Jhuldrin was the one who actually saw the dwarf prisoner manage to turn on his captors, whirling a piece of heavy chain into the face of the old crone before attacking her with all of his physical mass and natural weapons. The wizard would add careful crossbow bolts — tipped with drow-brewed poisons even — to help slow the enemy, but he could see that without their magic, without their whips, the clerics were going to be hard-pressed to escape the battle-raged swordsman in their midst.

One matron vanished with two of his crossbow bolts in her throat, despite the anti-magic field still holding -- how had she done that?! What was she?!

Ilmryn did not see the matron vanish, he was busy dealing with the others... and then he had to, somehow, keep the dwarf from harming him, or Drizzt, as the melee began to end with the bodies of matron mothers sprawled on the ground and cooling. "Stop," he called to the enraged dwarf in gentle Common, "we are not your enemies. Peace, and we will guide you to your kin."

"You can't chase wherever that one went," Jhuldrin called to Drizzt, whose muscles were bunched to run down the tunnel.

That made their ranger actually note the still present potential threat, before leaving that to Ilmyrn. He studied each of the bodies, lunging and putting a point through the ribs of one to actually kill her.

"What in the Halls of Dumathoin have me heirs been doin'?" the dwarf demanded, but he settled back from the killing rage, with one final kick at the eldest body in the cavern.

"Making odd friends," Jhuldrin said with humor, knowing he was breaths away from the wild exultation of such a dramatic victory over the damned Spider Queen.

Ilmryn chuckled softly, "We have all been making odd friends," he added, before offering his hands -- from a slight distance. "Are you injured? I am a cleric, of a goodly goddess. I can help you, if you are. Then we will go."

The dwarf took a deep breath, looked at the silent killer next, who blinked twice, slowly, like some cat from his long-gone childhood.

"I… I am friend to Bruenor Battlehammer, eight king of Mithral Hall," Drizzt managed to say. "I asked for others like me to come, on his behalf. I am Drizzt Do'Urden."

"Me own son's name… but all the way tae eight? Now there's a thing." The dwarf made it over to Ilmryn, accepting the hands. "Like as no, need a touch," he agreed. "Me name be Gandalug."

"I hear a tale, but the fighting is not yet done," Jhuldrin told him. "So try not to get in the path of danger as we head back; we all want to hear it." He added a smile, relieved that Drizzt had found his words.

"So I do," Ilmryn agreed, "I am Ilmryn, cleric of Eilistraee. Forgive my poor manners?" As he asked, he gently directed a healing spell through the old dwarf's body, soothing and easing the myriad wounds. He found himself having to use a second healing spell to finish the healing, because this elderly being had suffered entirely too much, but he finished, and smiled. "There, that should be better. And Jhuldrin has the right of that last. Drizzt, can you get us back, or do I need to find the safe way?"

"A bit longer way, but from Guen, I sense the battle is flagging, and the retreat could come back this way," Drizzt said, abandoning thought of joining the fight from the rear in favor of escorting the dwarf and his friends back. He'd given Guen's figure to Bruenor, since she knew how to hunt drow, and they weren't expecting as much of an attack above, where Catti-brie was going to be using her enchanted bow. "This way."

He turned to guide them around to a secondary passage, one that should not be involved in the fighting, but his stance said that he was still highly alert for threats.

The dwarves were taking stock, mourning their lost ones, moving forward with the divvying of spoils per the contracts with wizards and the drow band. Drizzt had seen Guen briefly before she went back to her plane to recover from her efforts. He had checked on Catti and all of Alustriel's sons, as well as the rest of Lleona's band.

Once he had finally managed sleep — actually staying down for an entire night — he was ready to start combing the tunnels for stragglers.

~Drizzt, it is Nalatar,~ came the somber tones of his teacher, one of the few drow in Rilauven that Drizzt truly believed was a friend. ~Come home, as soon as you are able.~

~I hear you, Nalatar,~ Drizzt replied, well aware he would get no answer to any question he asked, but he knew very well that Nalatar would not summon him home lightly. He could send news of his own that Vhaeraun might not have shared with His faithful yet, though. ~I will come. Menzoberranzan attacked Mithral Hall, Baenre, other matrons, are dead.~

Nalatar had, apparently, arranged to have two sendings. ~Joyous news, that I will pass on. Until I see you.~

~My love to my family,~ Drizzt replied one last time, as there was nothing else he could say that mattered at all.

Sealing the Future: Chapter Six

Mynera had heard the ranger needed to leave, asked for teleport, and was given it, so she approached him. "The other wizards and spare clerics are needed here," she began. "We should all leave. Our Lady graced me with the spell needed, and I am certain one of the other fighters can come with us while the others go… wherever Lleona decided we should."

She watched him way that, but the face she was including a fighter — not that the battle tales of her ferocity indicated she had to have one! — soothed him from asking a cleric.

"I need to go home. I have a way in from the Neverwinter?" he said softly.

"I can do one better," she told him. "I know a portal series that will get you there faster, and we can stay with you up until the very last one. All of them operate, and all but that last are guarded by our own people.

"The last comes out on the northern side tunnels for the city itself."

Drizzt took a deep breath, then nodded, not trusting words when he was overwhelmed by the generous offer, and that meant he could find out what had happened so much sooner. Mynera lightly touched his arm in understanding, then went to tell Lleona and see which of their fighters wanted to spend time with her on this trip.

That freed Drizzt to go find Methri, here as Alustriel's actual representative, and tell him he would be delayed in his return to the city. Beau saw him coming, and made sure Methri turned, given Drizzt just did not know how to make noise when he walked.

"I wanted to ask if you mind passing a message to the Lady," Drizzt began.

"I never mind," Methri replied, shaking his head, "if you want her to hear it from you directly, give me just a second and start speaking when I nod. Or I can just relay the message."

Drizzt looked a little embarrassed at that warm willingness. "Just relay, please. I must go to Rilauven. I am leaving today. I do not know when I will return." He hesitated, then added more personal words. "I miss her, and loathe that I have spent so much time apart from her."

"I'll tell her," Methri answered, before reaching out a hand. "Whatever's drawing you back there, do you need anything we could get easier than the dwarves can?"

He shook his head in answer, a little helplessness around the edges. "I do not know why I have been called back for certain, only that my teacher is the one that did so," he admitted, looking a bit more vulnerable than usual. Methri was trusted; all of his Lady's sons were, and family, even if he'd had little time to bond with them outside of favors done for Dove in the past. "Cleric Mynera is going to help me get there quickly."

"All right," Methri replied, "just... be careful, yeah? We'll see you when you get back."

"All of you be careful too," Drizzt said, before he left to go get ready for a trip below. He needed to see Lleona, and ask if he could take one of Baenre's pieces of jewelry; Vhaeraun deserved an offering to know that one was dead.

Life was as it ever seemed to be through most of the city as Drizzt made his way to the concourse leading up to the Academy grounds, but he was too experienced to miss that the remaining Lolthite Houses had more prevalent physical defenses present. His guts twisted, but he refused to believe that boded ill for him, or his family, personally.

He moved swiftly, nodding to a few familiar faces on his way, and did not miss the longer looks in his direction. None of them felt hostile, despite his nature being known and his face recognizable to so many. He did stop once, when he was high enough to look out over the bulk of the city, taking in that it seemed whole. For all that he could never live here permanently, he did truly think of it as 'home', one of three he treasured.

Then he was moving again, straight to the temple of Vhaeraun, his fears banished, and resolve holding him steady.

As he climbed the ramp to the complex of temples and schools, his eyes saw a drow figure in Vhaeraunite robes waiting before the great ravens that guarded the first bridge across the enchanted stream.

From a few yards away, he knew it was Nalatar even before the other drow spoke. "You made better time than I could have hoped, Drizzt. I am relieved."

"Met a drow once of House Vaer who sped me on my way," Drizzt said, coming within personable range of his teacher. "Dare I ask to be told in open air, or shall I wait for privacy?" he asked, knowing now how to be cautious, but still a more open person than most drow managed.

"Wait," Nalatar said, their mouth tightening for a moment. "Welcome home. Come."

They turned around and lifted hands to mask. A moment later, the ravens folded their wings onto their backs, clearing the bridge for them to cross safely.

Drizzt, as was his custom, inclined his head to the guardians, but kept to Nalatar's pace as they moved. Dread was trying to pry him away from his calm, but he would not let it win. Even as good as he was, he knew that Vhaeraun held some favor for him, not just as Vierna's brother, but for actions against the god's enemies.

Once they were inside the Temple, Nalatar turned to him, stretching out one hand. "Yasdra is unharmed, your friend Tokrasz now has two demon kills to his credit, a cambion and a draegloth and is also well. Vierna is recovering rapidly from her over-casting, though she is not wholly well yet. Two of the Temple guards that were with them died during the assault of a creature I am told was once your eldest sister and her minions, and they did not wish to return to their bodies after having joined our Lord."

Drizzt nodded for that; the afterlife for a favored of Vhaeraun was good he knew from the lessons here. But that his sisters, and his father's student were mentioned, but not — he had to drag in a deep breath.

"My father?" he forced himself to ask, already knowing with a part of his soul. He'd protected his dearest friends, minimized the loss of dwarven life, and yet… his family had faced terrible foes without him. There had been a cost; there was always a cost when things went well.

"Resting in gentle repose in a catacomb of the Temple, with a guardian at all hours," Nalatar replied, "until Vierna is recovered enough to go out on a quest to gain the last experience she needs to join the casting of a true resurrection. She is close, but she has not yet done quite enough to join the casting without taking further harm. I was quite sure you would never forgive us, if we allowed her to leave with a party without you."

Drizzt closed his eyes, relief in his heart. His father would return for them. He had no doubt of that. And of course he needed to be with his sister. He even had some ideas on quests that would offend neither of them to undertake.

"Nalatar, thank you," he said when he opened his eyes. "For telling me, and for sparing her the necessity, and for calling me back to aid in this." He considered. "Is Yasdra to stay with you, or her dam once we leave? As I do not know if leaving her solely to Tokrasz' care is the wisest course." The man would do his best… but Yasdra was noble born and very aware of her station.

"She isn't so fond of her dam as to want to stay with her," Nalatar answered, corner of their mouth turning up in an affectionate smile, "and Vierna asked me to keep her. I am willing to, so that is settled. Also, I think your Tokrasz badly wishes to go with the two of you, which I would suggest agreeing to."

Drizzt gave the slightest hint of a smile. "I will enjoy seeing all he has learned," he agreed to that. "Is my elder sister in her apartments then? Or do you have more I should know first?"

His father had died. His father's body was safe. Vierna would fix this. Drizzt would do all he could to enable her at that task.

"She is," Nalatar replied, closing their hand around Drizzt's forearm for a long moment, "and no, I can think of nothing else. Other than that all of us are grieving for the time Zaknafein is gone from us."

Drizzt tipped his chin up, briefly covering Nalatar's hand. "If allowed, until Vierna is strong enough to go for her quest, I would step in to tutor the fighters, as Father normally did. I believe I have a few new tricks to share." His eyes glinted a little, accepting that even with magic negated, Matron Mothers did know how to fight, and they'd had numbers on their side. He had a new, stronger faith in his ability as a swordsman.

"I am certain the masters will be grateful, Drizzt. Thank you. I will let you go to her now, and not keep you any longer," Nalatar said, and released him gently.

Drizzt gave them a respectful bow in gratitude, then turned off to go to his sister, making himself lock down all of the agitation, so he could just support her.

Drizzt had given Vierna a shoulder to lean on while she recounted how everything had gone, made his way to the offering chapel to give the token of Baenre to Vhaeraun's priest there, and then actually prayed to the Masked God to give thanks for the aid to his family.

As always, that sincere prayer, from such a good person, half-vexed and half-amused the god in question.

The rest of the time that they were in Rilauven for Vierna to reach her full ability again was spent training others at the fighter's school. Those who had known him were mildly impressed at the improvements in his style. Those that were new to meeting him did not know what to make of the laughing, dancing drow who loved the sword-work for itself, not just as a skill for survival.

He briefly paid his respects to his father's body, gratified that the master fighters were the ones keeping guard over the body. Zaknafein deserved that, in Drizzt's heart.

Alustriel briefly reached out to him, but he was loathe to admit to her the full reason of his absence. If he told her, who would not chide him for his softer emotions, it would make it too real, with the possibility of failure. He, nor Vierna, knew how long it would take them to find tasks suitable to the experience she was lacking, but his duty was to his father and sisters before his personal life could be considered.

Early 1360 D.R.

Almost a year and a half of adventuring in the Underdark passed with the small adventuring band wreaking havoc on various other species and their unholy demesnes. Once, Drizzt gained them a temporary alliance with Lleona's band to assault a Lolthite citadel that was encroaching on Vhaeraun's claimed territories. Vierna had gritted her teeth to work with them, but found it easier than expected.

Was this what her Lord saw for them, in her unbreakable alliance to her brother? Was He seeking alliances like this with His Sister to break Their Mother's hold? It was something to ponder for later, she decided. Likewise, she had had to adapt to her brother actually casting magic in his fights.

His amusement about Eilistraee having to take over that aspect had even made Tokrasz laugh. It had, Drizzt admitted, changed the character of some of the spells, adapting them to the Underdark as his second patron was having to do.

But now, finally, they were home again, Yasdra reunited with them, and Vierna's prestige in the Temple running feverishly high with the list of deeds Tokrasz told tales of.

It was one of the other senior priests, not the Twilight Herald himself, who came to get Vierna to teach her the prayers of true resurrection. It did not take long for her to learn the spell in its every nuance, everything that could go wrong and everything that had to go right. The best diviner of the Temple determined the most auspicious (and near) date, after which, there was only waiting until the correct day.

The three of them went to gather their father's body from the catacombs, and brought him to the central altar in the Temple, where the other two priests -- one her teacher, and the other a priest Drizzt had never met -- waited for them. A number of the lesser priests, priestesses, and acolytes waited as assistants, witnesses, and to learn the parts of the ritual that would not blast their minds.

Drizzt had asked, wanting to be certain, if he should even be present, showing more maturity and awareness of how he did or did not fit in this city and its ideals. That he was allowed was one more reason to keep giving respect, if not worship, to Vhaeraun.

His father looked to only be sleeping with the gentle repose on him. He'd warned Alustriel the last time she had reached out that she should not, and for her to warn the rest of the family not to, so that there could be no outside intrusion during the ritual. He stayed focused, obeying the tightest discipline for what was to come next.

Vierna stood at their father's feet, the offerings of diamonds and prized trophies of their triumphs on the altar above his head, the other two priests at his sides, and began the long and intricate chant. The first portion was the invocation of their father's spirit above his body, and only once she saw the faint glow could she breathe, and ask, "Zaknafein Do'Urden, will you willingly leave the realm of the dead and return to your body, your life, your children?"

"Yes," the spirit said with all of his will and faith in his children. For them, Zaknafein would do anything. For any one of them, he would give his life twenty times over, so long as they survived, and he would live for them just as fiercely each time.

Vierna smiled radiantly -- she had been certain, but it was so good to hear -- and began the rest of the ritual, the other priests' voice joining perfectly with hers. The chant rose, they voiced the last syllable, and for three endless seconds the whole of the central chamber was blacker than black, all heat, all darkfire, everything swathed in the perfection of deeper darkness... and Zaknafein Do'Urden breathed in, breathed out, and was sitting up before the darkness faded away.

Drizzt's hands tightened on Yasdra's shoulders to keep her from racing forward, to keep her quiet just in case there was some end to the ritual that must not be interrupted, and only let her go when the other two priests stepped back and Vierna stepped forward to offer their father her hands.

Yasdra went straight to them, but this was her sister's triumph, and she waited, watching closely as Zaknafein wrapped his hands fully around Vierna's. His eyes locked on the priestess he'd once believed lost to him, who had saved them all, and now brought him back to further protect her and her siblings.

"Thank you," he said, and the words were laden with the most honest sentiment he had ever uttered with them. He let go of only one hand, beckoning for his younger daughter, taking in the little bit of height she'd picked up since he saw her before the fight.

"Father," Yasdra breathed, moving to take that hand and be close.

"How could I do anything else, father?" Vierna asked, lifting his hand to her cheek for a long moment, before she let go because Drizzt had followed Yasdra and was now standing close at her side. Drizzt actually put his arm around her, a small embrace for the woman that had made their lives possible, literally now in the case of their father.

"You have a lot of people more than willing to help you get fully in condition again," Drizzt said with a smile, before he did take Zak's hand and squeeze. "I promised to go easy on you."

Zak snorted, squeezing, before taking a deep breath, looking at the others. "All of you, thank you." He wanted to be up and out of here, back in the comfort of their apartment, so he could bask in having all three children safe and alive, the threat of Malice and her other spawn finally at an end.

"We are glad to have you back, Master Do'Urden," the elder of the two said, bowing, "but this is not a time for discussions. This is a time for you to spend with your family. Go. All is well."

"Thank you, elders," Vierna said, having leaned into Drizzt's arm for a long moment, but with the directive to go ahead and leave, there was nothing she wanted more.

Yasdra took to one side as Zak stood, and Drizzt moved to be on the other, just in case. There was the faintest sound of amusement from the eldest of their family, but he didn't protest.

"I take it you still haven't found a patron," he said in the driest tone to Vierna, making Yasdra giggle and squeeze the hand she held.

Vierna snorted. "Who could compare to the two of you?" she asked quietly, not for the first time, and then simply headed for their quarters.

Zaknafein sat in his room, with peace finally settled around him. Yasdra was at lessons, Drizzt had left the day before for his surface life — and that woman — while Vierna had duties today.

How far had he come from that night he argued with Malice to allow him a little space in her second daughter's life? How much had his seemingly hopeless life changed because of that daughter?

He carefully inspected his swords, one by one, and all of his other smaller weapons, cradling the sheer joy of this life within a true family deep in his heart.

senmut

Again and Again (500 words) by Sharpest_Asp
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Characters: Vierna Do'Urden, Drizzt Do'Urden, Zaknafein Do'Urden
Additional Tags: Drabble Sequence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Time Loop, Temporary Character Death, Minor Appearances By Other Characters
Summary:

Vhaeraun needs her to succeed. No matter how many times it takes.

Again and Again

Listen to Me, My priestess. The future hinges on your success, and I am giving you this glass of sand. As soon as you know that the path out has failed, crush it.

You will remember, as if from a dream, the choices made. This can continue until you win free — or My Abyssal Mother defeats the magic upon you, and thus Her city.

As Vierna saw Maya stalking Drizzt, with Briza cutting off her escape the other direction, she shattered the glass, and the sand spilled out, before her wean son could die in front of her very eyes.

Hazy recollections of an unguarded moment with her wean-son led Vierna to keep a tighter rein on her feelings for the boy. They made it almost to the time of schooling, and he betrayed his faerie heart to their mother at the worst moment, on the verge of learning to be an adult.

Vierna wept in her heart, but walked outside of the temple-school to a courtyard and crushed the glass of sand beneath her heel.

She had to succeed, either with him at her side, or sent far from them so she could destroy Lloth's hold on her House.

Absolute horror descended upon Vierna as events following the raid spiraled out of her control and guidance. If there was one man in all of existence that held as much of her care as her wean-son, it was the Weapon Master.

The only thing she could do was to throw out a web spell to hinder pursuit of her son. She dared not crush the glass of sand in the chapel itself, or while the focus of Lloth was so close at hand. No, she could bide her time, and force herself to imprint all of her revulsion to memory.

They were on the cusp of escape, and her wean-son was too drugged, too … broken by the unholy ritual that she had failed to protect him from. His slowness to obey might have won praise from her any other time, but now it was only costing them precious time.

When the Weapon Master failed to appear, after being certain of his alliance in this, she knew, bitterly, that she had failed again. She took hold of Drizzt by the back of his neck, pushing their foreheads together.

"I do love you, my stubborn one. Next time, we will do this!"

This time, as Drizzt tried to process revelations in the gym, Vierna was there, finger over her lips, holding a pack. She took his hand, and they went in, where again, silence was cautioned at Zak, before a flurry of signs were thrown.

The trio all but ran from the House, hearing the threat gearing up to take them all to the Abyss on Lloth's altar.

They didn't stop moving for most of a day, nor was there time for words.

Far enough away to feel safe, Vierna checked for the glass of sand to find it gone at last.

senmut

A Demand for His Aid (3004 words) by Sharpest_Asp
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Characters: Zaknafein Do'Urden, Vierna Do'Urden, Drizzt Do'Urden
Additional Tags: Canon Typical Violence, Child Abuse, Attempted Murder, Murder, Family Dynamics, Graphic Description of Injuries
Summary:

When Zaknafein is contacted directly by a god, everything changes

A Demand for His Aid

Zaknafein was headed for his quarters after having dealt with an infraction of discipline in the commoner soldiers. He was not in the best of moods already when there was a very intense hiss in his mind.

~Your children need you!~

The voice was male, with more power to it than Malice had ever brought to bear on him, and he had the fleeting impression of a mask floating in shadows. If he were any other drow, he would have pushed off the intrusion, knowing full well what the mask symbolized, and not wanting anything to do with it.

His weakness, though, was children, with his own first and foremost, even if his daughter was long lost to him.

He turned to go to the chapel where they both should be, and he could hear — and smell — the vicious attack happening inside there.

Neither woman involved in the attack was looking at the doorway. Vierna was caught in a spell, her face twisted in agony, while the boy was being all but flayed alive under the snapping mouths of two whips held by Malice and her youngest daughter.

Zaknafein acted before thought, brought fully to a rage to see the boy, not yet out of the care of his wean-mother, being killed before his very eyes in such a horrific fashion. He could not even take satisfaction in finally killing Malice, barely noting her shriek as one sword went above her cleric robes to take her head.

Maya turned, and his other sword found her heart, enchanted to overcome what pitiful protections she had worked into her robes. Vierna had begun to move the moment Malice's life ended, indicating which one had been holding her, but his daughter was ignoring him and the violence to get to the boy.

"No, no, my little brother, you cannot die on me, you must live!" he heard her say, hands working feverishly to stem the bleeding, raw wounds. "Weapon Master, Briza is out of house today; hold the door against others!"

The words were an order, but the need behind them reverberated in Zak's heart, seeing one child he thought lost trying to save the one that had never been meant to live at all.

"You'll have to hurry, Priestess," he said gruffly, but moved to be certain no others came… or that they died before they could report what had happened.

"Just need to get salve on them," she said, and he would have sworn there was desperation in the words.

He flicked his attention that way, saw that she was applying the salve to a large piece of cloth. That was wise; it could be laid over all the wounds at once. His ears strained for the sound of any approaches, filtering out her flurry of activity. When she snapped her fingers for his attention, he saw she had secured the boy to her with shawls, keeping him against her side.

"Down to the tizzin holding pens, and we can get out a secret way there, with the one that answers to me? Or do you have a better idea?" she asked, her hands hot and almost blurring the signs in her haste.

Well, at least she was smart enough they had to get out. Then again, she had always been exceptional in most regards.

"That works," he replied, coming to her side. "If you have a plan, given this was not on my agenda today," he added, letting his dark sense of humor rear up.

She drew in a deep breath. "I don't know what betrayed us, but yes, I have a plan. I don't dare swing through my quarters, but I leave certain things in my saddle bags that will help us. We just need clear of this place before Briza returns."

Zak nodded, indicating for her to lead, unsurprised when she took him down a back passage from the chapel. He stayed alert, noting that she had the dagger he had given her in the hand not under the shawl holding the boy to her. Zak noted the boy was running hot, not cooling, indicating he might yet live from the torture he'd been put through.

Once they reached the tizzin holding pens, Zaknafein set to getting the one she indicated rigged with harness and added a second saddle to the gear Vierna had indicated. While he did so, she went and opened the gate that would let the mounts reach their feeding paddock, giving them a cushion of time as the beasts would be surly to be called back from food, if pursuit should begin immediately.

"Ready."

Vierna came to his side, using her levitate to rise high enough to get into the saddle, shifting the boy in front of her to better support him. Zak climbed up behind, ignoring the beast's protest, and watched as his daughter used a spell to open a door that had been hidden, one that led to a portal.

"You better really trust whatever that leads to," Zak murmured in her ear, and was relieved by her defiant little laugh.

"Malice should be the only other person who could command it, and it takes time to resurrect someone." She commanded the beast forward, putting them through the opening and into something that was more wild than Zak had seen in centuries. The faintest glow ahead made his eyes try to shift into the visible spectrum, but he focused, surveying everything for dangers.

"Her gathering paths," he said, once he was satisfied.

"I don't think she's done it more than a handful of times since I took the task over," Vierna said, guiding the tizzin to one of the smaller caves she knew to exist. "We are going to have to hole up long enough for me to pray for healing for him, Weapon Master."

"For better or worse, Priestess, I am tied to your fate now. And his."

"I will do all I can to see you never regret that," she told him.

What the hell did he even say to that? He didn't have words, but let her get them somewhere they could be safer fro the moment. When they were inside the small cavern, and the entry sealed with another spell, he almost had an answer, shocking as it was, when she pulled a mask out, tying it on, so that she could reach for divine spells.

His daughter was not Lloth's? She followed Vhaeraun?!

The day was only getting stranger.

The boy — his son — was ashen in color, under the blue faerie fire she pulled up to observe him by. He was far too hot, and Zaknafein could see how discolored both the bandaging cloth and the shawl were from lost blood.

If the boy died, at least he would die free and not in that damned chapel!

It didn't look like Vierna was going to accept even that benediction as she prayed fervently and applied the prayers diligently to the boy's back. Slowly, the heat receded, and some color returned, until finally Vierna had nothing left to give, and the boy's labored breathing could be heard.

"I will ask again tomorrow," she said firmly, letting the mask dangle on her neck before she looked at Zaknafein, face almost challenging him to speak his mind.

"How long?"

"Always."

"How?!"

She smiled, wearily, before smoothing the boy's hair away from his face a little, and off of his back. "Because a man once drugged my nurse, and offered me a gift to learn from."

That didn't answer how, not really, but Zak settled back to weigh his next words. He watched her do small cantrips to get the cloths clean. Once they were, she covered the boy to keep him warmer, eyes tight when it provoked a small sound of pain.

"What happened?" he finally asked.

"Somehow, they discovered my allegiance," Vierna said with bitterness. "I'd been so careful, but maybe… one of his questions was heard, one I didn't punish for and would have, under the spider's demands. They both came, and before I could do anything to defend us, to maybe dispel their suspicion, Malice accused me, and put me in an agonizing hold, decreeing I would watch him be destroyed before she delivered me to her goddess."

"Do you need any salve?" Zak asked, flinching from that punishment. He'd felt it once or twice in his centuries of blaspheming.

"No, if you have some, save it for him," Vierna said. "How did you know?"

"Your god, who I don't like much better than Her, told me I was needed," he told her, not yet willing to lay it out too openly.

Vierna's mouth tightened in a thin line. "He always told me you were my best choice for help, when the time came. Only, that was supposed to be when I was ready to take the House. We never counted on such a strange child as Drizzt is." Her tone was affectionate, as was the gaze she dropped on the boy, and Zaknafein's heart clenched with strange emotions.

"Had Briza been present, I might have been able to take all three, with surprise on my side as it was," Zak mused. "But she wasn't, and we could not have held against what she brought back to the House with her, given that the bitch-goddess would have warned her."

"No. So now, I will take him to one of my God's cities… and I very much would like for you to join me all the way there, Weapon Master."

"Not about to let the two of you wander the wilds alone," Zak told her gruffly. "Especially with his injuries."

She looked relieved… and exhausted, actually showing her true state to him.

"Sleep, Vierna. I can keep a watch, and you said they shouldn't be able to follow until they resurrect Malice."

"I… thank you."

Somehow, impossibly to Zak's view of things, the boy was conscious before Vierna had fully awakened. Maybe it was the pain, even though only a slight hitch of breath had given the boy away before those eyes — such a shade of purple — opened. It looked like the boy was biting his lip against making any more noise, but Vierna had also heard the change in breathing, and brought her hand to the boy's cheek with such gentleness that Zak felt his chest tighten again.

"Easy, my wean-son, easy little brother," she crooned softly. "We are safe, and we will get you healed." Zak knew it was too soon for her to make the effort again; no god was that generous.

"Introduce us, and I will treat his back with the salve," he told her in a quiet voice, as those purple eyes had never left him once they opened.

"Drizzt, this is the Weapon Master, Zaknafein. He can take care of you as I do. He will not hurt you."

The boy blinked once, and that was when Zak realized it wasn't a fever — or merely the fever — that was making the boy's face blotchy. He had a whip strike across his cheek and jaw, making Zak wonder if they had gone for the boy's tongue.

His temper flared, and he truly wished he'd had time to make the deaths hurt.

"No, don't sit up, unless you have injuries on your front," Zak told the boy as he moved closer, pulling his own jar of salve out. The boy stopped moving, and laid very still as Zaknafein pulled the cloth coverings back to deal with the half-closed injuries along the back. His touch was as light as he could make it, but the boy made no sound, only flinching minutely at each touch.

That Vierna was watching, rather than going back to sleep, reinforced her investment in the boy's welfare, especially as she kept her touch lightly on the uninjured side of his face. Zak had to indicate for her to move so he could put the salve on the boy's face, and those eyes closed but still there was silence, even though that had to be more painful than the ones on the back.

He sat back, watched the boy fall into a quieter, more even breathing, and met Vierna's eyes after he put the salve away.

"Always so quiet?" he signed.

"After punishment only. Always questioning."

Zak studied the boy, then her. "Let him ask."

It was bold, a demand, and he half-expected anger from her.

"I plan to."

That… was unexpected, but good.

Vierna decided for them that lingering was ill-advised and had them moving again as soon as she had done her praying. The boy settled in front of her, the sling connecting them still, but Zak had seen his body was much better. Once she had scried the path they needed, Vierna worked some more healing on the boy, and they traveled in silence for several hours, only stopping for brief rests.

The boy slept, enough that Zak was becoming concerned, and brought it up once they reached a defensible camping point.

"Should he be awake more? I could hold him and walk along side, if so," he signed.

Vierna shook her head. "Better that he sleep, my Lord has said, when He gives me the healing. Both for our travel, and so there is no lingering damage.

"But thank you."

There was no sarcasm, only genuine gratitude, the kind of emotion that Zak had seen so rarely in his life. He inclined his head, and continued checking for threats. Once he was satisfied, he settled near them, watching the boy be awakened for the food and drink that Vierna had summoned for them to share. The purple eyes were so odd, but more, Zak could not see anything of himself in the features, only Malice… yet Vierna was much the same.

He focused on the boy's hands then, and watched as both were used with indifference, no slighting of either one, with ease. He looked up at Vierna's face, knowing she was watching him study the boy. She gave a small smile.

"He shares the trait," she signed… while using her free hand to stroke the boy's hair.

That actually made Zak smile, a small twitch upwards of the corner of his mouth.

"We get it from you, don't we?" she added then.

He didn't want to lie to her; they were dependent on each other for the time being. He gave a short nod.

"Well. I am glad, though it does mean I will likely never find a patron worth having at my side. Who could live up to what you have proven a man should be?"

Her words, delivered with sass behind the motions, made him chuckle, rather than dwell on the fact she seemed pleased by it.

"Daughter." He signed the one word, willing all the misunderstandings of the past to be gone.

"Father." She knew the sign for it, usually only seen in the commoners, not using the formal 'sire', and that made his chest tight again.

No one, he swore, was ever hurting them again.

Drizzt did not, really, complain once he was feeling better. He was just a little more active in trying to 'help' his sister get him secured.

Amazingly, Vierna saw the issue and stopped with the shawls, looking at the boy with patient eyes.

"If I let you sit, you have hold on tight to the straps, in case we have to go up. That means not using your hands for anything else."

Zaknafein saw the boy's eyes widen, then he clung to Vierna, letting her finish getting the shawls in place. Once they were moving, the tizzin still grunting displeasure at two riders plus a half-size child, he looked over Vierna's shoulder a few times to see Drizzt moving a pebble on his fingers.

It was never the same hand when Zak checked.

The feeling of pride was growing, as he saw his daughter had kept the ability to care, and his son was as skilled in his hands as Zak himself had been at the same age.

The truce on not resisting being bound to his sister lasted a few days, and Zak, to forestall further concerns, took to walking. "Need to see and feel the tunnels, now that we're away from anything that looks vaguely familiar," he said, waving it off, before wrapping the tethers in a way that made it possible to secure his son in the second saddle.

That it meant Drizzt was hidden from anyone approaching them from the forward position was good enough for both of them to accept the new way.

Along with his body being mended, it seemed Drizzt's mind was becoming curious again, and Zaknafein got to listen as Vierna explained her religion, answered apparently old questions about why the women were like that, and at least half a dozen other topics. Vierna had not been exaggerating; Drizzt was always asking questions now that he didn't have to fear any whips. If Vierna was uncomfortable with the question, Drizzt would stop, but not to flinch.

No, the boy was quick to hug her, having learned he could be as tactile as he wanted with her now. The obvious affection between them was one more ache in Zak's chest.

If all drow had the capacity, why did it have to be the way it had been in their city?

That was something that chewed on his mind for a time, until Vierna's reassurances that her god's city would not be like that at all actually re-ignited hope for him.

In Menzoberranzan, a priestess's body was confiscated against potential use later, while her surviving daughter was absorbed into the Second House, and her assets distributed between First and Second.

In the wilds, Vierna led her family along a winding path to sanctuary that was far from the chaos strewn by their House ceasing to exist in that city.

And a father grew stronger in the care of his children, finding new purpose to living.

senmut

Fight or Flight: Following Up (1045 words) by Sharpest_Asp
Chapters: 2/2
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Zaknafein Do'Urden, Original Elf Character(s), Drizzt Do'Urden, Vierna Do'Urden, Inthylyn Aerasumé
Additional Tags: Ensemble Cast, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Summary:

Zak and Kor maintain their friendship

Fight or Flight: Following Up

Zaknafein had fully relaxed into actually being free, at having both of his children at hand so he could keep them safe. Drizzt was still slow to actually speak, but he had learned he could smile, that he was safe, and that he could learn anything he wished to. Vierna was doing all she could to encourage that, even inviting an unusual ranger by the name of Horim to visit when he could to teach the boy.

The other thing Zak had found he enjoyed was escorting the dwarves to Silverymoon, since he was known there, so that he could spend time in Korvallen's company. As much as he liked Jarlaxle's company, there had always been an edge of knowing they might have to kill one another, under the old life Zak had known. Kor was different, none of that threat level under their interactions… and Kor was a master swordsman.

Having seen the dwarves to their usual inn, he took himself over to the Knight's Tower, nodding briefly at the squire on duty before walking on in to where he could hear his friend instructing some of the newer Knights. He found a spot to lean against, and just watched, putting the flaws he saw in memory to tell Kor later.

Once the training was done, Korvallen walked straight to his friend, reaching out to grip the other man's shoulder. Zak knew good and well how hard it had been for Kor to come to terms with seeing him as an equal and friend, which made Zak value the friendship more.

"Hadn't realized it was time for a trade run from your village," Kor said.

"Bit early this year, because we managed to help nearly half a dozen up, and didn't have enough cloth and such for them to have all they should," Zak said lazily. "Want to talk about your students today or spar?"

Kor snorted. "Spar. You can tell me about my students when we go clean up and take a meal."

"Sounds good."

"How's the boy?"

Korvallen was leaned back in his chair, the remnants of their shared meal between them, and Zaknafein had to sigh.

"Skills are only improving, both in weapons and all that elf-nonsense he's picked up," he answered, keeping his tone light. Kor rolled his eyes at the phrasing. "Still not as talkative as I'd managed to get him to be when he was my student. More likely to use his face to ask questions, rather than his voice, and most of the village lets him get away with it.

"He will speak when he feels it has to be done, but more apt to use sign than voice even then."

"Leaf Grevaine did warn that what his mind did to him might make speaking the last skill he recovers," Kor told his friend. "Maybe a few more years will see him move past this too."

"Maybe." Zak shrugged. "His sister can't beat him or outlast him in a spar. I can, but it's getting harder — that counter I used on you today that had you swearing at me? That's his innovation."

Kor sucked in a whistle. "Complicated… would take someone of your speed — or his — to pull off and not be at a disadvantage, so that's damned impressive he thought it up. How bad was your head ringing?"

Zak laughed. "I saw the shape of it just soon enough not to take the full blow, but yeah, it smarted for a bit. Drizzt even looked proud of himself, not something he's prone to."

"Good," Kor said, approving of the boy finding esteem in his own eyes.

"That half-orc ranger said he's never dealt with a wild-called ranger, so he can't tell if Drizzt is normal for such, or if … well, he's being Drizzt at that," Zak added.

"Horim's a good man, respected in his profession, so if he's saying that, your boy is something special."

Zak nodded, then drew in a deep breath. "Ever heard of a Morningmist… Evgin, I think?"

Korvallen nodded sagely at that. "Takes ranger students most wouldn't, and all of them — like Horim — go on to be big names for Khalreshaar."

"He's wanting to take Drizzt to her, this autumn, so Drizzt gets more advanced lessons. Would mean letting him be gone from me and Vierna for so many months, maybe even years, and I just don't know.

"Him being away at school gnawed on me, and then the years after he vanished were hard," Zak admitted, a vulnerability that he could never had given to another drow.

Kor reached over, clasping Zak's wrist. "He might need it, you know? Away from you and others that fuss over him? Give him a chance to find his feet with a different person, and learn more of what draws him.

"And you could come stay with me off and on, to get out of your head. I can probably convince Thyl to lend a hand with that even."

That got a grunt, but it was a thoughtful one. "Your nephew seems to be a good man. His pegasus was pretty damn gentle with Drizzt, their first meeting. Full-fledged attack of that flight response, but the pegasus calmed him down like he calms creatures."

"They're pretty unique in being able to tell," Kor agreed. "So, think on it while you're here, and if it's not right this year, maybe next, though Horim might push a little, given Evgin's pretty damned old for a human with no special magic."

"I will."

Any misgivings Zaknafein had evaporated when he got back to Spirit Sanctuary and found that his son had wound up handling a full orc raiding party with just his cat for several minutes, delaying them long enough for Vierna to bring the fighters.

Drizzt had done damned well, and Zak had praised him, but the other side of his parental worry decided that if the boy was training, he wasn't taking fool-damn chances like that.

When Horim came, Zak would encourage the boy to go, to learn all he could from the elder ranger. And if, while Drizzt was gone, Zak went and inspired a little more fear in the nearest orc villages, well…

… his son shouldn't have all the fun.

senmut

A Family Reunited (3363 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: Zaknafein Do'Urden, Vierna Do'Urden, Drizzt Do'Urden, Original Drow Character(s)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff
Summary:

Zak stole Drizzt, many decades after Vierna stole herself.

A Family Reunited

He'd done it. Zaknafein had managed to escape the House with the son who had survived, somehow, without having to slay every woman in there. No doubt, if he'd planned for that, he could have… but it might have set the city on his trail. Now, though, he had to get them fully out of the Underdark. He suspected Malice would not stop hunting them until she had her prized son back and Zaknafein on the altar.

He had an old map in his head, one he'd seen a long time before. All he had to do was follow that, up and out, with his small son, keeping them fed and protected.

It would not be worth thinking on the price of failure, so he did not. His son's life, whole and as he was, so bright and warm and gentle was all that mattered.

Vierna called a meeting of the adult drow only, those that most often helped with shepherding people up out of the Underdark. She smiled at them, hiding her unease over this coming venture. As always, it would be up to the individuals, but she already knew she wanted to see this one through, if only because it might mean eliminating a risk.

And she sighed inside her own mind about thinking in the negative. Sometimes it was hard to embody hope when her thoughts tended to run in practical fashions.

"Is this about the mystery?"

Trust Sira to jump straight to meat of it as soon as the door was closed for the meeting.

"Yes," Vierna answered. "All of us clerics have been touched by dreams of a father and child in the Underdark, somewhere near enough to us that we are the best option for them." She waited for the shock to die away. "The mystery that was relayed to me is that the father is not one of ours, that he is an apostate of all gods.

"Yet his great need to protect a boy child, one he thinks of as his son, has hit hard against our Lady's mercies and compassion."

"What of the boy himself?" Rafi asked, frowning. Apostates weren't unknown, but had a short lifespan in general.

"He does not exist on the divine plane, and that is th other half of a need for caution," Vierna said slowly. "These things are always voluntary, but this one is even more so. Please do not volunteer for the search unless you are certain you can face the potential risk of a trap."

"I will go," Sira said, shrugging. "I am most recently escaped from the Spider, and might have an advantage in discovering the edge of the trap."

Vierna inclined her head, eyes seeking Rafi. He nodded once; he would be the leader to take the others below, being the most experienced. He had both fighting skill and not a few wizardly tricks he'd picked up over the years to protect them all.

One way, or another, the mystery had to be solved.

His son could count eleven years of life, and had just made his first kill of a creature. Zaknafein felt a deep worry in his soul, until he saw Drizzt's face. There was … remorse? regret?… some un-drow emotion on the boy's features as he worked the knife loose from the smaller lizard that Zak had not seen while dealing with the larger, very territorial one.

He came to the boy, kneeling down to look for injuries. A scrape, likely from the jagged scales when Drizzt had defended himself, marred one hand.

"We need to move on, but use a little water to rinse that scrape. Are you alright otherwise?"

The boy merely nodded, and Zaknafein damned Malice and her daughters all over again for that being the boy's shield, to fall behind silence.

"Here," Zak said, handing over his smaller cleaning cloth for the knife. "Wipe the blade well, after you clean the scrape. The cloth has magic to pull all the blood off and leave no scent."

Again, there was a nod, before the pair were moving. Zak kept Drizzt just in front of him this time, instead of at his side, in case the strangeness in his son made travel harder as he thought on what had just happened.

When Zak found them a place to camp next, he used darkness on the mouth of the small cave, then brought up his faerie fire, despite the effort it took to use two innate powers so close together without an amulet. That let him see his son fully, reassuring himself the scrape was all there was and it looked to heal cleanly.

"Do you want to say anything about earlier?" Zak invited his son who swung between extremely inquisitive and absolute silence.

Drizzt peered at him, weighing the words, keeping in mind how gentle his father had been with them in all their days of travel.

"I did not want to have to kill it."

The boy squared his shoulders and jaw in a way that reminded Zak of himself, but also spoke of too many past beatings.

"But you did, because it surely would have killed or maimed you," Zak said evenly. "Necessity. I don't go out of my way to hunt more than we need, and have preferred to scare off those things we could on our path. Waste of energy and time to kill needlessly."

Drizzt slowly relaxed his posture. "I… yes."

Something in the way the boy still looked thoughtful told Zak this wasn't the end of it, but as long as Drizzt didn't hesitate to defend himself there should be no problems. He saw to a meal, checked their weapons, then settled the boy close so they could rest once the faerie fire winked out.

Drizzt was uncertain of many things, but he knew what fear was. Fear motivated him to go high, using his levitate, at Zaknafein's first shift of 'danger', given he could just make out drow ahead of them in the large cavern.

"We mean — "

The speaker's words were cut off as Zak had drawn and moved to kill, before it looked like he ran into an invisible barrier of some kind.

"Peace!" the speaker managed to say, having scrambled back behind two of the others. That was a woman, but the rest were all men, Drizzt noted, just as Zaknafein escaped whatever was stopping him, both swords at the ready.

"Peace only comes from death," Zak said, and Drizzt wondered if that was true. He didn't want it to be true.

"Warrior, we mean it," the foremost fighter said, armed with a sword in one hand… and the other in a pouch? Drizzt strained to see and hear as best as he could, wishing strongly for his father to be safe.

"Then get out of my way."

"We cannot, until you hear us," the woman said. "My name is Sira, once of Mantol-Dirith. We came to seek you and your son, to guide you."

Drizzt actually winced as his father's muscles bunched.

"Warrior," the foremost fighter called. "We follow a surface path and were guided to help. We are not like most drow you have known. You can see that, in our clothes not hiding us as well!"

Zak considered, put one sword away. The group seemed to relax somewhat, but Drizzt had seen a twitch that mean to shut his eyes.

He did, heard the cries of pain and saw the light behind his eyelids, before a hiss of his name had him dropping swiftly and running. While the group of drow struggled to overcome the light, Drizzt and his father slipped down a secondary passage, making swift progress to escape whatever trickery that had been.

Rafi checked on everyone, and Sira used minor healings to rid them of the headaches the light pellet had caused.

"What now?" she asked the elder.

Rafi considered, then shook his head. "You take everyone home."

She hissed in a breath. "First Sister would tell you not to be a fool. You saw how fast he was."

"Yes, and that is giving me an idea. I could be wrong, but somehow, it feels like our only choice. I can track them, and I can cast haste to catch up. One person alone is less a threat," Rafi reasoned. "Take our siblings home, and with luck… I will follow with our without them in a hand of days."

Sira did not like it, let it show on her face, but she did not have the skill to track them fast enough. "Don't give Vierna reason to learn the spells to bring you back," she said, before going to break the plan to the others. Rafi was handed more of their rations and vials of healing potions, before he broke off and began trying to find a man he half-thought matched tales of his dearest friend's childhood.

Zaknafein knew they were being followed, had expected it. He found a good spot where he could settle Drizzt in with their packs, told him to be silent, and waited. The party would die, and then they could move on. It was as simple as that in his eyes.

He was waiting, therefore, with his body fully hidden from drow eyes, and watched the lead fighter, the one who had magic tricks, come in — completely alone. Nor did Zak's senses tell him that any others were following.

This man was canny, Zak decided, when he stopped, looked around, and then calmly put his back to a stalagmite… after checking it for any predators or nuisances.

"I might be talking to thin air," the man began. "But if not… my name is Rafi. I have sent Sira and the others back to our home above. Yes, I have that authority over a cleric.

"We're different, those of us that choose the surface. We've left the Spider behind us, or in some cases, the Masked God," the man continued. "We chose each other, and we want to help others that wish the same."

Could Zak believe him? The mention of the Masked God stirred unpleasant memories, but this man was … scornful?… about both drow gods, and not pushing a new one in their place. Just… helping others.

One fighter. Zak was almost certain he truly was alone.

"Lies are easy to spin, stranger," he found himself saying. "Of course a cleric would send a mere male alone to bait a trap."

The fighter chuckled. "I can see how one who lived in the Spider's web would say that, even though I've seen centuries of freedom from the city I was born in. The cleric I most care to listen to will probably be aghast when she learns I chose to come alone to speak with you and your son.

"But, I think I have a small thing to offer to you… if you hail from Menzoberranzan. No, I am not prying at thoughts or anything sinister like that. I just refuse to believe that there could be two fighters using twinned long-swords in the northern part of the Underdark that have impossible speed."

"Not impossible, I suppose, but say you guessed right. Curious how any surface dwelling drow could have heard of such." Zaknafein's curiosity was aroused fully.

"Because such a man once gave my cleric friend a gift. A spider, but one that was heretical to the teachings of that city. She spoke fondly of that man, and wonders if he might even have been her father."

No one knew that. No one but he and Vierna, so long lost to them — how in all the abyss could this man know that unless he was the one that stole her?!

Before he went and demanded those answers, the fighter did one more thing that no sane drow ever did… and dropped his sword belt.

"I swear to you, Weapon Master, for you must be that man, I only wish you and your children long, good lives."

Broken blades, but what was Zak supposed to make of this?!

"I'll kill you, over days, if you lie," Zak growled before stepping out and dispelling the protections of his gear.

"I don't lie about Vierna… or pretty much anything, unless it is to protect others," Rafi said, staying where he was. "I am thankful she told me tales, so that I could recognize you, Weapon Master."

"Get your sword back on," Zak said. "Zaknafein," he added absently, before looking toward his son, finding him already slipping out of the hiding hole to come to his side. "I didn't tell you to move."

"But you chose," the boy said, shoulders and jaw firming, readying for a punishment Zak would never inflict.

"We need to talk about your stubborn streak," Zak grumbled, only to hear Rafi chuckle.

"I presume, saer, that comes from you then, as Vierna has never accepted the word 'no' without strenuous arguments," Rafi told him.

"Hmm, I think it might have come from both sides," Zak admitted, before putting a hand on Drizzt's shoulder, his swords having been put away before he stepped out of the shadows. "My son, Drizzt."

"An honor to meet both of you," Rafi said, buckling his sword back in place. "Now, I know a better cavern for rest from here, one that is small and has a trickle of water. I also have rations to share."

"Lead on," Zak said blandly, and the strange fighter did, no matter it left his back exposed.

Vierna's nerves had prickled from the moment Sira made it back to her. She knew Rafi would worry about it later, but she chose to take two of her fighters and go down the main passage leading up he was likely to use. She did not anticipate a long wait, given travel times of the original party and then Rafi himself. Nor was she wrong, as the first sign of the travelers crossing a warning strand she had prayed for let her and her fighters know when to fully cloak themselves.

Her eyes were glued to the entry point of this resting point, and she was so relieved to see Rafi whole and well… before the man from distant memories came into view. She had not truly let herself hope when Sira's descriptions stirred the few good ones for her, yet… that was the Weapon Master. That was the man she had actually missed from her birth-city.

With him was a boy, likely just past his Page Prince year, eyes glowing a cool purple that was so striking… and yet her prayer to determine alignment could not even see him. The man was shockingly neutral, but the boy just did not exist!

That would need to be understood before they went into Spirit Sanctuary, but for now, Vierna moved into view, hand at 'stop' to her pair of fighters.

"Chipped blades, First Sister, what are you doing here?!" Rafi hissed out, noting the pair that just faded into view without being aggressive in their posture. "At least you're not alone, but damn it, you take too many risks!"

"I don't think you get to speak of my risks, my friend, when you walked into the presence of one of the deadliest men's presence, alone," Vierna said cheerfully. "Hello, Weapon Master."

"No longer… Vierna," Zaknafein said, drinking in the sight of her even as she was returning that regard evenly. "You really are alive and well."

"Oh yes, Zaknafein, I am," Vierna told him. "I knew Arach-Tinilith would have killed me, and took my life in my own hands. I have few regrets for doing so."

That seemed to be just the reassurance the man needed, prompting him to cross the distance. The boy did not… but Vierna saw that he was watching intently and staying near Rafi now.

Zaknafein came to a stop at a companionable distance, his eyes meeting hers. "I am very relieved, having mourned you these long years."

"So you are my father? As I cannot see you mourning over a potential priestess with little other than the House to matter."

Zak smiled, nodding once. "She replaced me as Patron because I challenged her over how to raise you," he admitted, holding his hands out.

She took them, gladly, squeezing as that slotted in against his lessons she could remember so clearly. "I am glad you are free now, and intrigued to meet your companion — son, yes?"

"Your full brother, yes," Zaknafein confirmed, turning — not letting go of one of her hands — to beckon. The boy came over swiftly, looking up at Vierna earnestly.

"Hello," Vierna said. "I am Vierna."

"Drizzt," the boy said, then flicked eyes to Zak, as if checking that he wasn't in trouble for speaking up.

"This is your sister, who will be kind to you," Zaknafein told the boy. "She left us a long time ago, because she is more like you are."

Drizzt's face scrunched up as he considered that, then he nodded once before tucking in against Zak's leg shyly.

"I, and all of our people, welcome you both. Come; let's get up to the entrance cave, unless you need a rest? It will be safer to talk there, and Rafi can stop glaring at me for leaving our village."

"No, the glaring stops when we're in the wards," Rafi said idly. "But we are rested; I timed it so we'd come to the entrance at night."

"Of course," Vierna said, smiling for his protective nature, before they set out for the higher points.

Before they exited the cavern onto the true surface, Vierna put a hand on Zak's arm. Drizzt had tired, and Rafi had him currently, a sign of trust in all ways. The boy had nodded off and was sleeping with the peace that few drow children ever found.

"There is a mystery around Drizzt. He cannot be perceived by my goddess, a good drow goddess," she said in a low voice. "I need to unravel that before he can actually go inside the warded village that we keep."

"Wonder what the Spider Bitch did to him when he was spared the night he was born," Zak grumbled. "What will it take?"

"Staying here a night or three, seeing if I can make it make sense, asking for help from strong allies if not," Vierna admitted. "I do not like the delay in having you both home with me, but I must put the lives of all of our people ahead of my own wishes."

Zak reached out and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, already comfortable with the causal physicality these drow used to reassure one another. "I give you my trust, daughter, to free your brother of whatever this is."

She leaned into him, a lump in her throat as she decided Rafi was right. They had gotten their goodness from Zaknafein, even if survival in Menzoberranzan had broken his down.

Zaknafein had been a little less sure when 'strong allies' proved to be faerie-and-human related people. He really didn't know what he felt about the obvious affection between the pair of siblings to his daughter… one in a sisterly fashion and the other as a lover. The very tall woman who looked human but felt like power itself had been gracious and gentle, which only added to Zak's unease. He just did not know how to handle a self-professed Witch of Shadowdale — wherever that was — being kind.

Kindness was going to take time to get used to, but Drizzt responded to it so eagerly. Which meant he needed to learn to be that way, consciously.

His son had been very aware of the power moving around him, apparently, and Zak almost wished the boy wasn't that sensitive to magic. Zak had worked to hone his sense of it, not being as noble-blooded, but it seemed to come to both children easily enough.

Now? Now, he had his stolen son, his lost daughter, and a future that didn't feel as short-lived as it once had. He could thrive… and find out all the stories Rafi would share of the woman his daughter had become while Drizzt grew up.

senmut

After It Is Said and Done (100 words) by Sharpest_Asp
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Characters: Jarlaxle Baenre
Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Drabble, Inspired by Poetry, POV First Person
Summary:

Jarlaxle's internal mindset at Zak's death

From Your Tongue by Maggie Smith: Where is your voice now / that you have moved, you have migrated?

Legend of Drizzt, Drabble, Jarlaxle, referenced major character death

You never would take my offer. You left yourself lingering in that misery of your conscience and honor. For what? A daughter that helped kill you and a son that fled into the wilds?

Damn you, Zaknafein for putting me in that position. I had to, you see. Your own concept of who deserved to live would have gone just the way it played out. Only… I can't reach you. That part of my brilliant plan failed — so far. Steal you away, remake you at my side, and wait for your son's chaos to strike.

He'll be your eternal vengeance.

senmut

Corellon's Meddling (31833 words) by Sharpest_Asp
Chapters: 8/8
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Drizzt Do'Urden, Ensemble
Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Divine Interference, Resurrection, Miscommunication, Ensemble Cast
Summary:

Khalreshaar and Eilistraee brace Corellon over a drow. The Sun God of the Elves puts things on a very different path, as He uses it to His advantage.

Chapter One

Khalreshaar rarely actually mingled with the Elven Court in Arvandor. She was considered, at best, an interloper by the majority of the pantheon, but She was worshipped by enough elf-kin now to be able to demand the right. She strode in, clad in Her leathers, carrying all of Her weapons, and stood before the androgynous King of the Seldarine Gods until He took note of Her unwavering attention.

"Yes?"

"I have an elf that follows Me, one who is touched by destiny in ways even I can see," she began. "He was hunted by Malar recently, and when I, in this guise, went to check on him, I found him impossible to see. I bring this to You, as the only reason that could be is the meddling of the one once called Araushnee."

Silence fell through the Court at that bold accusation.

"Why would You say such?" He finally managed to ask.

"Because My ranger, wild-called and as perfectly a part of Nature as any of My druids, was born to Her people."

He started to dismiss Her concerns, but then His dark Daughter was there, slipping up and taking the other goddess's hand in solidarity.

"I cannot see Him at all, and Mielikki is as certain of his nature as I am of Hers," Eilistraee said firmly. "That the human goddess can see what neither I nor the half-elf can means that She has found a way around Your proscriptions, Father."

Corellon frowned, and realized He would have to address this directly.

"Very well, I know now. I will learn what She has done to the drow, and if he is meant to be a weapon against us."

The first obstacle was, of course, finding this drow afflicted by troubling magic. Corellon was irritated to learn that the spell had been woven so finely that it was masked from Him. Maybe the goddesses were right, as He had to admit a truly good nature would mask a subtle enough spell.

Corellon made His way to the hidden grove, near the headwaters of the Unicorn Run, after petitioning Hanali to tell Him where to find Her daughter's human aspect. The goddess of love had been loathe to answer at first, but gave way once Sehanine spoke for Him.

Why were the goddesses as they were? First the interruption at Court, and then Hanali being like that had Him wondering if the mistake had been in having more than one form to begin with. Or… had He merely forgotten some wisdom Angharradh would have imparted to Her three aspects along the way about Khalreshaar's other self?

For this journey, Corellon had shifted to the feminine form, still very much a sun elf, but taking on the fullest height of His mortal followers. She would better go unnoticed as a woman, She thought, as it had been many, many generations since She had done so.

"Mielikki?" She called, not allowing Herself to be distracted by the lush feeling of life so abundant in this place.

"Here, Preserver," the typically shy goddess called, bringing Corellon's attention to where the Supreme Ranger was seated, two fawns resting beside Her as a doe foraged nearby. "This is more than I expected," She admitted.

"I need to know where to find him, so I may begin to unravel the plot." Corellon crossed Her arms, wondering why She felt so much like an interloper in this place. Mielikki was not a powerful goddess! And yet, this grove was imbued with the power She did have, making Corellon far too aware of how tenuous Her grip on the Material Plane had grown as elves declined.

The Forest Queen rose and extended a hand to her. "I will take You near him, so you may observe. I caution You to exercise full stealth until You choose to approach him. He has… skill. Beyond most forest folk. His astral companion has shared with me thoughts of him surviving, alone, in the Underdark.

"It has made him difficult to hide from." She smiled. "I have, more than once, had to take to tree-walking when I wished merely to observe him, to evade his attention."

Corellon's eyebrows rose, but then She nodded. "I will keep that in mind."

Mielikki had deposited Corellon near the southern bank of the Rauvin River, where it was mostly grasslands. That surprised Corellon, having thought the drow would try to stay where there was deep shade. The pair of deities had watched the drow, seen that he was taking time to hunt, forage, and dry what he took, obviously preparing for the next winter.

Corellon, in seemingly leather armor, elven-scout gear, carrying a long bow, and a longsword, headed out across the grassland, deciding to take this sacrificial bull by its horns. She had managed to disguise the weapons, but was not about to wander the Material Plane without them. The wandering sun elf, seemingly aimless in that path, was pretending not to notice the drow, until the shallow depression the drow was using was blatantly visible.

Then, She changed course, after deliberately stiffening as if noticing the ranger. The drow, to his credit, had evidently been aware of the stranger, and now moved to come to his feet but was neither stringing his bow nor drawing the scimitars at his hips.

"Drow," Corellon snapped, just to see how the man handled it.

"Ranger. I seek peace, not violence," the man answered, still not drawing.

"Drow are all liars," Corellon baited.

"I am one who prefers truth, such as I was minding my own affairs when you changed course to interrupt my day."

Despite Herself, Corellon had to admire that quiet accusation, the steel in the way the drow held himself, yet he did not give any signs of preparing for battle.

"You wear surface gear, you profess to be peaceful, and yet drow are known to be sorcerous malcontents, bringers of death and torture."

"Some are prone to magic, most are as you say for violence, and yet I am here with fish and game, berries and nuts, harvesting for the coming winter, here on the surface, under the open skies," the man answered. "Please, go your way in peace. I do not wish to fight this day, nor any other without true cause."

"What, then, is true cause? Murdering elves in their beds? Preying on humans? Allying to vile orcs and goblins?"

The drow had flinched at the first, then a spark of anger flared on the rest of it.

"I have no time for you," the man finally said, and he dropped back beside his work, seemingly ignoring Corellon.

The first part of testing had gone solidly in the drow's favor, Corellon decided, before finishing the walk to where the man was working.

"You are truly alone, merely hunting and fishing and gathering?" She asked, sitting down uninvited after putting bow and quiver near the sole tree granting shade.

"If you think that makes me someone easily slaughtered to sate millennia-old grudges, I assure you my blades and use of them are still keen."

She laughed, caught off-guard by just how grounded in his skill he seemed. There had not been true arrogance at all in his words, merely a statement of fact from his perception. How very interesting this drow might turn out to be.

"Now I am merely curious, I admit," she told him. "My questions stands; what is your cause for violence?"

The drow looked over, fingers never stopping in weaving the strands of grass to make a pannier. "Those who despoil the wilds, who harm the weak which need protection, and those creatures that have found themselves maddened by injury I cannot heal. These are reasons for a ranger to draw blade or string. I heed those."

Corellon made a considering noise at that. "Show me. Show me who you are in truth, by sharing the road for a time, and word could be spread of the drow who is a ranger."

"I need no such," the drow told him. "I will make my way, and perhaps, in time, find a place that accepts me for my nature."

That got a truly dismissive snort. "Every traveler carries papers, if their name is unknown, attesting to who they are. Word of mouth is the only way for one who has no letters or writs to be trusted, foolish drow."

The drow considered that. "Drizzt. Drizzt Do'Urden. If you are going to share my camp or my road, use my name. Or at least my calling."

"Laranrua. Just use Laran," Corellon said easily to that. "You don't have much drying yet."

"It's not quite time to take more than this," Drizzt said. "The nuts and fruit I will continue to add to as I travel. The deer was an old one who was faltering already, and I left much of it for a nearby den of foxes, others that might have more need. Only the fish is plentiful enough here for me to take more than a few.

"But I needed time to think, and it is best to take a little at a time anyway, to prepare for the cold months."

"And what lofty matters do you think upon?" Corellon asked, pulling some of the reeds close to begin shaping them for another pannier. They'd been well-soaked, and were quite flexible. The drow did not protest.

"If I did correctly in heeding the whispers in the leaves recently, when a fight had been chosen for me," the drow said without shame or dissembling. "I vaguely recall who Malar is from my teacher, yet… I still feel as if I should have defended that region instead of turning away, as the wilds demanded of me."

"A Wild Hunt?" Corellon asked, already aware, and still seething about it. At least Khalreshaar had alerted the treants and the local elves, so the Hunt had been dealt with. Her enmity to Malar went back to some of Araushnee's earliest plotting.

"Yes. A spider-full pack of lycanthropes. I could have defeated them, with my companion, but could I have done so without injury? Could their illness be transmitted to my companion?

"I think these two things are why Mielikki had the land warn me. As no cleric would give aid to me, for much the reason you chose to brace me here."

Corellon hummed slightly. "I heard tale recently that the treants of the High Forest had cause to move swiftly. Is that near where you were?"

"Yes… and if so, I shall have to find way to give thanks for their intercession."

Strange drow was the phrase that flashed through Corellon's mind on the truth in those words.

"A drow who chooses to be good would revert to the truth of his species under their corruption," Corellon said. "Best that others dealt with it, if you seek to be true to this calling you have taken."

Drizzt inclined his head, and focused on his weaving.

Corellon, over the two days they remained, saw the drow hold vigil at sunrise both days. She watched him feed small wildlife with some of the food he had gathered for his own use. She saw the drow brace for a fight at one point, then look up and scowl as a young blue dragon flew overhead, oblivious to the pair on the riverbank.

That last was … intriguing, as Drizzt had not been looking anywhere near where the dragon had come from.

Once they were on the march, crossing the river by dint of wading and then swimming until they could feel the bottom again, Corellon brought that up.

"Yesterday, with the dragon. How did you know it was above?"

They had to set off back to the east, as mortal-limited swimming against a river had allowed for some drift. Their panniers had floated and the lowest layer of food had only needed a night by the fire.

"I just do." Drizzt shrugged. "Montolio could never explain that, though he had answers for why I understand the wildlife so easily, that I hear the whispers of the leaves. Heart of a Ranger, he would say, and then remind me that Mielikki would give me a path, if I learned to listen.

"And I do. She had goals that suit my nature. If it is needful to ally to a deity, then Her holding to that goal is enough to soothe some of my concerns over such. But the extra ability to feel when something truly evil, or unnatural to the lands I am in, that? We do not know."

Corellon mulled that over, then She asked another question. "You were born below, yes? Did you have such feelings as this in a city full of drow?"

Drizzt considered the question, half-closing his eyes even as he started on an upward trek into the Nether Mountains. Corellon noted the sure-footed light steps that put some of Her own elves to shame.

"An itch. A prickle. It… grew as I aged. And was possibly strongest at an unholy ritual I was forced to attend. Likely contributed to me freezing, during an assault above, until almost too late to do anything for the innocent."

Corellon's temper flared white-hot — yet She reined it in, remembering the flinch when goading the drow that first day. "Almost?"

Drizzt didn't answer immediately, using the ascent as a reason not to speak, as the path chosen was one better suited to goats and birds.

"A child was spared. But I have no way of knowing if I caused her truer harm than a clean kill would have. I do not know if there were other elves to come succor and save her." Drizzt's answer came with a brief look toward his climbing companion. "It will likely haunt me all my days, not knowing, but I did the only thing I could in the moment."

What an absolutely puzzling drow, Corellon decided.

They did not make it to the cave Drizzt had used as a winter haven in the past without conflict.

Drizzt came awake from his mid-day rest, and signed for silence from Corellon, having heard or felt something in the wilds. Corellon did not tap into Her divine awareness, having already realized that Drizzt was sensitive to magic. That at least made sense; some drow had long since honed that ability, though it tended to be more rare than their other innate abilities.

She did however extend all of her own senses, and faintly caught a pungent odor.

"Giant," Drizzt said. "Coming from the direction of a camp often used by humans for hunting and wood-gathering." He swiftly readied his swords, bow and quiver, leaving the rest of his gear in place while Corellon matched him, curious to see what a single fighter thought to do against a giant.

Then the man reached into a pouch and withdrew a figure of a hunting cat, and said an Elven name, before a fine black mist solidified into a larger-than-life panther. She turned her golden eyes toward Corellon —

— and blinked once.

Did the cat not realize, or had Khalreshaar spoken to the wild spirit cat? Either way, they were swiftly on their way, taking a path that few could have kept their footing on, to where the giant scent was coming from.

The giant was not hard to find, and Corellon saw the grimace of realization on Drizzt's face, for the club was wetly dark. The ranger shifted then from prevention to vengeance, unleashing four arrows before abandoning the bow and drawing swords. Corellon remained at bow-range, firing at the slower rate of a mortal. The cat, on the other hand, had streaked forward the instant Drizzt fired his first shot, raking along the lower legs before going past.

The giant flailed and swung to try and get the closer attacker, just as Drizzt arrived and stabbed with both swords, one into a meaty calf, and the other just slicing deeply along the skin. Corellon kept up the volley of arrows at first, but when the panther's second attack on the back of a leg drove the giant down on a knee, She had to hold back.

The drow used that bent leg to jump up for an attack of his own, the scimitars landing multiple times before the giant could swat at him. When the club was incoming, faerie fire danced right in front of the giant's face, centered on the end of his nose, while Drizzt dove off. Back and forth it went like this for three more passes, the cat harrying, and Drizzt cutting deep on every swipe.

Blood loss alone took the giant's fight, and he toppled heavily, giving Drizzt access to the neck for piercing strikes to open the artery there. Nor did the drow get caught in the spray of blood, having kept moving — wisely — in case of a thrashing death blow. Satisfied the giant would kill no more, Drizzt ran on, to the site of the camp, forcing Corellon to hurry to catch up.

The site of the camp was a complete loss, with the three humans that had been there very dead… in distressingly violent fashion by the giant. This one apparently hadn't even wanted a cooked meal, from the bodies, and Drizzt wound up leaning into the giant cat for a very long time. Corellon caught up then, and found Herself almost reaching out to lay a hand on the drow's shoulder for comfort.

Almost. What in the Planes was this strange one to evoke that?

"You should go back to camp," Drizzt said slowly. "I need to make a cairn, at least, for what remains."

"I could aid, but… you need the food you preserved not to be lost."

The large cat made an agreeing noise, before going and actually beginning to dig a trench.

"Thank you, for the aid, and not getting in my way back there," Drizzt added before walking to the nearest body parts. Corellon took that as the time to leave, considering the skill and compassion that She had witnessed.

The rest of the trek up passed without excitement, and then Drizzt was levering heavy stones off of pits he had made the year previous. With the food stored away, Drizzt allowed himself to relax, looking over at Corellon lazily from where he had dropped.

"Your opinion?" he asked, with a shade of sarcasm in the tone. It was obvious that the drow didn't care how Corellon judged him.

Corellon laughed a little, despite Her initial aversion to finding the drow worthwhile. "You live the way you speak. That can be rare among many species, let alone drow."

She then got serious, looking him over again. "Such a person might be very useful on a quest. One that I know requires a skillful fighter of high purposes."

"An elf offering a drow a quest? I should suspect being set up as a … sacrificial offering, with such." His mouth twisted a little. "Having been offered up thrice, I believe it is overrated."

Three times? And it would have had to have been to Araushnee in Her current vileness. Was that the secret? Corellon would pry at that spell this day, She decided, when the drow chose his sleep.

"Hmm, I'll tell you about it and you can decide.

"There is a leader, by training and even by blood right, were he to ever claim it, that is thought to be at risk. He is of elves in the High Forest, a man of strong heart and courage, but also a man dedicated to knowledge. He has the fealty of three villages directly, and there are few within the High Forest who would not come to his call.

"Through his family, he holds alliances in several other elven areas, and even can count humans among those who would heed his call. There are none known in this part of the world who have amassed more of the ancient lore, and certainly none who have dedicated their lives to making that lore accessible, to elves of all kinds, including the half-ones."

"An admirable man, from the view you paint of him," Drizzt said. "But leaders are often at risk, from what I have managed to learn on the surface, and I cannot see this as a quest, so much as an attempt to bring a guard to the man."

"Ahh, but it becomes a quest, you see, when you learn that a threat within the divine realm makes this person a key piece in preserving peace for the future. If the gods come to war, after all, their followers follow. And the weak, the helpless, the old and the young — those are the ones that pay the price. Having a strong leader, with so many allies across so many lands? Could help the elves stop the warring on the surface, and let those followers merely strengthen the deities within the divine realm.

"Would that not be a quest worthy of taking? Protecting one man, to prevent many potential deaths?"

"I only have your word for what it could lead to. We are back to the sacrificial part. How can I know he is worth the weight of it, that I am not being made to prevent something that is a just death, should it come to pass?"

Corellon smiled, then shook Her head. "You don't. But I could make it to where you meet him, under a glamour, get to know him, and choose for yourself. I have such magic at My discretion."

Drizzt considered, then shook his head. "All of this is intriguing, but I do try not to make serious decisions before I rest."

"Sleep then, and we will speak later," Corellon urged, readying to decipher just what Her loathsome ex-Consort had done.

Studying the spell, growing angrier by the moment, Corellon felt entirely justified in Her plans to bring Her strongest Lorekeeper back to the living. The event had happened within Drizzt's lifetime, if only barely, and it was as minor a bend of the rules as what Araushnee had done to this boy to foment chaos.

A rock within the wintering cave became host to the abyssal spell, rendering the rock both a potent artifact of Lolth, and making it imperceptible to all Seldarine, dark or light. Corellon would see to having it removed, at some point.

That done, and infuriated beyond reason, the most powerful god of the Seldarine worked a few more spells. When Drizzt woke, there would be an awareness of the quest in full… and in a moment of compassion, an offering of reward. Corellon would have to learn where a soul was, and shape a form for it, but if Drizzt was successful, it seemed kindest for having taken away the choices.

Still, Corellon saw all of this meddling as minor, a simple precaution against Araushnee's manipulations, just in case this boy had been meant to tear down the Covenant that had ended the Elven Wars.

Chapter Two

As Drizzt awakened, he knew, without a doubt, that everything was wrong. He was not where he had gone to sleep, he had slept more deeply than he had ever intended, and … something felt off within his very soul. He remained still, deciphering it all. Scent said woodlands, pressure in the air said lower altitude. Sounds agreed with scent, though he did seem to be in a protected place at least, a burrow of some kind. No feeling of another presence — what had Laranrua done to him?

The moment that thought crossed his mind, it felt as if a priestess was touching his mind, with details becoming clear. Like it or not, Drizzt was on the cusp of the quest Laranrua had mentioned. But what arrested Drizzt's attention more was the sense of a promise to give aid.

A very specific kind of aid, to restore someone that had been lost to Drizzt for years.

Drizzt shoved that aside, angry to be manipulated, angry at everything in his life since those damned Malarites had given chase. He sat up, opening his eyes, hands coming in front of him to clench in fists at how unjust the trickster sun elf had been —

— his hands were paler. Not the color of so many humans he had seen, but… only brown.

"Damn you," Drizzt snapped, realizing he would have to at least attempt this foolhardy mess, decide for himself if the man in question was worth saving, because the elf had made him a faerie! "Damn you and your tricks. I will still weigh the situation for myself, elf-witch!" he vowed.

He still had Guen, and Guen answered his call, taking in his changes with a disapproving snort at them. She then attempted to groom his hair — brown, not white — which did make Drizzt smile. Reluctantly, he made his way out of the earthen den, finding a stream that moved lazily nearby. A look in one of the still parts of the water showed him that at least his eyes were unchanged.

His pack, his quiver, and his longbow had also been with him, as well as his swords. Given how difficult it had been for him to acquire curved blades again, that last was reassuring. There had been so many hoards and dens searched after dealing with the evils within them to get two that were close to balanced. He did not enjoy fighting with solely his bow and the knives he wore, after all.

He took the time to refill his water skin, then started walking, testing his senses as he did, trying to discover the path to ending this nonsense. He was coming to a clearing, and considering his best option for avoiding notice, when Guen rushed ahead of him and he had no choice but to follow.

He came out of the trees to see a handful of hor — pegasi?! — pegasi playing in the meadow. Two mature adults, two that seemed slightly younger, and one who must have been foaled in the spring for that one to be so small. Guen had bounded right out, then dropped, tail quirking in 'play with me', getting full attention. When Drizzt paused at the edge of the meadow, attention shifted to him… and the stallion took it upon himself to investigate the elf, while the elder mare went to investigate the cat.

"Hello," Drizzt said, standing still as he was sniffed and evaluated, before the stallion came close, and Drizzt reached. That he was allowed to offer petting, and then scratches left Drizzt in a state of wonder. He missed when the mare decided Guen could play, didn't see the merry romping, as he was lost in amazement that such a good being had deemed him worthy. The stallion eventually turned away… and his mate took his place, allowing Drizzt more peace than he'd known in years.

He wasn't certain how it came to be, but when the pegasi were settling for rest, and Guen had gone home, Drizzt remained with them, at the stallion's invitation.

The pegasi family group — the younger pair of adults were a hatching from a previous year — were quite at home moving through the meadows and along the springs that cut through the woods. That Drizzt was here to deal with a threat of some kind had been understood, and they were communicating that to the others in the region. He would not have thought that the herds maintained spaces inside of a great wood like the High Forest, and yet they were very capable at maneuvering between the more open areas.

With them to hide his own movements, Drizzt ranged, placing where the different villages were by careful observation. The scouts of the various tree-villages seemed to note the family group, and never look up where Drizzt was blending into the boughs of the trees nearby. He could not get close enough to begin to deduce who he was meant to protect, but sometimes he glimpsed elves with markings different from the scouts and other villagers that might be possibilities.

Staying hidden, despite his appearance as a wood elf, was of utmost concern to him. If the plot against this elf was an internal one, Drizzt needed to be unknown. If the attack was to come from outside their own ranks, he could maintain his outside view of the woods, settling his mind to what belonged and what did not by careful study.

He thought, given the height, age, and amount of shaping done to one of the trees he found on his third week of exploring that it warranted closer watch. The stallion and mare alike agreed; they knew of someone there that Mattered, even to the herd. Evading their scouts was difficult, but a tree above the meadow his new friends enjoyed gave him a good view of people coming and going.

While watching such traffic — there seemed to be a lot of elves coming in, but not leaving — another pegasus came winging down into the meadow. That distracted Drizzt for a time, watching as his friends greeted the newcomer. As there was some prancing and head-tossing involved in that, two things caught the ranger's sharp eyes: there was metal on the hooves of the new pegasus, and the strands of mane that did not have feathers predominantly were braided with small ornaments.

Near dark, when his friends moved, the other pegasus joined them in their migration to a better sleeping glen, and Drizzt kept pace in the trees, until he felt he was out from under elven eyes and could drop to the ground to meet the new one. The elf-touched pegasus came right to him, meeting his eyes with a deep intelligence.

"My friends told you why I watch?" Drizzt asked softly. The pegasus, another stallion, maybe older than his friends' patriarch, gave a head toss that meant agreement. "Is there one you think that lives there who is in such danger, and would be much missed? It really would help me if I knew I was in the right place."

The pegasus watched him a very long moment, and Drizzt almost felt as if he was being tried for all the crimes of every elf-kin everywhere. Then the pegasus nodded, and put his head over Drizzt's shoulder, what he had come to think of as a hug when the others did it.

"I will do all I can to watch, and be on hand to help, if the matter is a just one."

The pegasus gave a nicker, and Drizzt was certain he'd just been told that it would be.

The wending stream of elves, thirteen in total, and an increase in the number of scouts around the area told Drizzt that the time might be at hand. He had noted the elf at the head of the column was wearing armor that looked more ornate in its decorations, and as Drizzt evaded notice to shadow them, that one was smiling but heeded in every suggestion made.

His pegasi friends, when the first elves had begun moving, had all taken to the air, save the youngest. That one remained in the care of the stallion that wore beads in his braided mane, which suggested the family group was going to scout ahead and around. All Drizzt had to do was not be seen, and keep an awareness of where the thirteen elves were.

He did wonder at the four who stood taller than the rest, the ones wearing battle robes instead of armor, but he would not be distracted. He needed to be on hand, learn what was ahead, and then choose the correct action to take.

There had been no sound of strife in the days they had been moving, and from Drizzt's silent, ghostly scouting, the group acted like old friends, maybe even kin — the way surface folk were about such.

So, when the ground was starting to open toward less dense forests, Drizzt had to decide quickly what vectors attacks could come from. Distantly, the ground rose, but there was plenty of tree cover to that point if he was careful. Drizzt had gone very high up for vantage, and was still there when the dam of the family was suddenly winging in for him. She beat at the air where she was, very near to him, and made a distinctly commanding tone.

"Me to you?"

At her head toss, Drizzt gathered himself and crossed the distance in a jump that he hoped did not jar her too much. It was awkward, avoiding the wings, but he timed for the down-sweep that was keeping her there, and was soon seated ahead of the wings, and holding on to her neck. He tucked in tight, hopeful that the lighting was still too dim for any of the elves to seem him as she took off for the area directly ahead of the course the elves were on.

The mare had felt the moment that Drizzt knew something was amiss, even as his normal senses refused to tell him anything of why. When she landed, with far more adults than Drizzt would have expected, she used her head to indicate the land ahead of them, with a stomp of her hoof.

"Something there, but hidden." That got answers from the mare and two near them. "Danger to the elves?" Another sound and stomp of hooves greeted that. Drizzt calculated the distance to where the elves had been, based on their flight, and sucked in a breath. "A magically hidden ambush. And while you know it is there, you can't see any better than I can."

Those nearest him agreed with that, showing great irritation.

"Then, it is time for me to be sneaky."

Drizzt smiled at the equine humor in the noises after that. They, the ones he had been guided by, knew just how sneaky he was. He felt a slight pang that they might never have trusted him but for the false face he was trapped under.

He moved away from them a bit, calling Guenhwyvar to his side. A quick explanation to her, and the pair set off for the zone of land that was not right, where danger and maybe even battle awaited them. Anything willing to deploy enough magic to hide an area from all senses, to make it appear empty of life, was not something Drizzt had many qualms about destroying. It was too much a drow tactic for him to stomach it.

Guenhwyvar was the one in the lead as the pair of hunters slipped past the illusion hiding the danger. Her particular senses were sharper in this than his, as the magic obfuscations on the Material Plane were less pronounced to her Astral eyes. With a hand on her, Drizzt felt, more than heard, the growl in her throat a moment before he was part of the illusion and could see — and smell — for himself.

A small war-band of orcs, heavily armed, with a chieftain and a shaman both was no small danger. Drizzt found a spot to hide within, as Guen took to a different shadow, and formulated his plan of attack. The entire nonsense of the quest was put out of his head; the presence of this much magic allied to people who genuinely felt evil in their intent was enough to bring Drizzt to necessary actions.

Shaman first, he decided, readying his bow with utmost silence. He'd get one, possibly two, shots before it would be time for speed and sword-work. He knew Guen would support him, would have deemed the shaman the one to attack as well from her hiding place. The shaman was the only one who could potentially banish her, after all.

He relied on the fact no sound indicated there had been any motion, that Guen had not shifted her hiding place, and came out with bow on string, firing in one smooth motion. The second arrow followed, both embedding in orc flesh before the orcs could respond to the attack. Guen gave a challenging cry as she sprang into action, followed by Drizzt discarding bow in favor of blades… and calling on his darkness to enshroud where the shaman had been.

After that… there was only movement, his swords weaving their spell of death, and Guenhwyvar tearing through fighters with brutal claws and fangs. Dimly, Drizzt knew when the illusions fully faltered, as strident neighs joined the cacophony of battle, but he had to focus, to kill as many as he could or send the band into full retreat.

Drizzt came back to consciousness some time later. He dimly recalled dismissing Guen to her plane, and the feel of a pegasus beneath him, but was uncertain of events past that. At least he had not become the Hunter, or he would not have even recalled that much, likely.

He was lying on a bedroll, one that did not smell like himself and Guen. He felt his wounds had been tended, and he could hear the crackle of a fire, smell the clean heat and smoke of it. More, he sensed multiple people around him, though at a distance.

Had the elves arrived wherever the pegasus had moved him to? Had the pegasus carried him to the elves? He had no way of knowing. He did know he wasn't bound, so that much implied he was being treated in a friendly nature. Then again, why wouldn't he be? As far as they knew, he was a wood elf.

He slowly sat up, and someone — oh that was one of the very tall ones — came near. Words spilled out, but they were not Common. Drizzt winced inwardly; he did not speak the elven languages at all!

"… only Common? I know some elves are cut off from learning the old language," the man finally said, reacting to Drizzt's face. "Sorry about that. Are you sure you should be sitting up?"

"I am fine. The wounds I took… have all been bandaged." He hadn't taken any smashing strikes this time, which was good.

"We have potions," the man offered.

"I need none." He was doing an inventory, noting the weight and feel of his pouch was right, he could see his pack — oh thank Mielikki, someone had retrieved his bow! — and weapons.

"My name's Elin," the man offered. "And my father is going to want to speak with you, to say thank you. And maybe say you're a little crazy, but in a good way."

Drizzt smiled at that last, and so did the … half-human? That clicked into place finally, as Drizzt remembered reading about such, and the differences of eye and ear in those.

"Not the first time I've heard that, but I'm a ranger. I do as I must."

Elin gave a short laugh. "Oh, one of those! We've got experience with that kind of ranger."

What was Mielikki's other name? In case it came up, Drizzt needed to give that name. Khalreshaar, he finally recalled, and felt like his brain was being entirely too sluggish. Then again, when had he last given that much effort to a fight? He supposed it was to be expected.

While he was thinking, the elf in the most ornately decorated armor came over, and sat down next to Elin, who spoke briefly in the elven language, before the newcomer looked at Drizzt.

"My name's Sharr, stranger, and my people are grateful for your actions," the elf said. Drizzt could see a resemblance to the half-human, and wondered if they were kin, as he had suspected.

"Drizzt. And I am a ranger. I did as was needed. No orc band with that kind of magic in place could be anything but wrong. Did the pegasi need aid? Were they helped if so?"

Sharr smiled broadly at that. "Very much a ranger, but we truly appreciate those who think of the herds first. Yes, the injured were treated. They have taken themselves back to their aeries. I am very curious how you came to call on so many as allies."

Drizzt shook his head. "I befriended a small family group. They did the rest."

"None of them were your friend?" Elin interjected. "As in a partner?"

Drizzt shook his head. "Merely allies, and I am thankful they chose such."

The pair spoke in their language again, then Sharr looked at him directly. "You must be quite blessed by your patron.

"I'm asking you to return with us to my village, to finish healing, and for as long after as you choose."

The idea of that appealed, even as it galled Drizzt that he would never have received that invitation if he had been in his right form. He did not know what would happen now, or if he had even managed what Laranrua had wanted.

"I think that is a good idea, and thank you."

Drizzt got to experience two brand new things later that same day — teleportation which left him dizzy on his feet because of the displacement while he was not at his best, and the healing of a good-aligned cleric. The elf, called Charic, had not asked him for permission, and he realized that she was as driven in her need to care for elves as he was for the wilds. That, and the fact it had not truly hurt, let him be at peace with her.

"You must rest still, and eat, and drink," Charic told him. "Healing can only mend the body so far."

Drizzt did not let on that he both knew that and would never have been given time to rest, in the past, when he was being healed.

"Thank you, Priestess," he said, inclining his head to her. He turned, looking toward the party of hunters being met by others. It stood out to him that the leader, Sharr, was being grasped by his arms by a darker elf, and the way they brought their foreheads together seemed… intimate. He looked away, noting another taller half-human. This one looked young, and wasn't as tall as the four Drizzt had seen, but he was hugging the ones like him.

"Come, let me settle you into a room. You are, technically, under my watch until I feel the exertions you experienced are no longer hindering you," Charic said with a smile. "I have several rooms for guests, being the lead cleric of this and two other villages." She rested a hand on his arm as they walked to the home she kept her. "As a person, I am very grateful to you. As a priestess, even more so. Sharrevaliir is a force that binds many in the High Forest, insisting on better ways, moving forward.

"And his sons all spread that goodness, everywhere they go."

"As a ranger, there was never a question, once I could see the ambush," Drizzt told her, but that was a slight confirmation to the elf-witch's words at least.

"We still get to be thankful."

A week in the village called Refuge of the Oaks saw Drizzt in better condition than he'd been in for some time. He'd been fed, spoken to by many, enjoyed a spar with first the half-humans, and then with the elf who had embraced Sharr. That last had felt like facing his father, causing his chest to hurt with renewed grief.

More, it let Drizzt study the elf he had saved, this Lorekeeper that meant so much. His care with his people was touching, especially with the half-humans who were his sons. He was a firm man, based on body language and tone of voice when he was discussing something with older elves, ones who showed sign of age even.

And he was friendly. Sharr came to the evening meals at Charic's house, just to be able to eat with Drizzt, and encourage him to talk about his journeys. Drizzt kept how he had come to be here to himself, only allowing that he'd been guided to prevent the ambush.

The more Drizzt spoke to him, to the half-humans, to Charic, the better he began to feel about the actions taken. His admiration for Sharr was growing, yet… he was a drow, no matter his face. If his nature were known, it would go poorly.

He just… wanted to go away, and start trying to find the elf-witch Laranrua to set him back in his own skin. He could tolerate the manipulation leading to a good outcome, but it was done!

The evening he set for his leaving, Sharr watched him putting away the supplies that he had been given.

"You're sure we can't convince you to stay? Kor has enjoyed your spars."

"I have enjoyed them as well, but I am a ranger. I have other places I am certain to be needed." Drizzt gave Sharr a smile, then finished with the pack. "I travel better by night, save the heat of the day for my resting."

"Odd, but maybe smart. My sons, and other family, will keep their ears and eyes out, Drizzt. If you ever need help, you can find it here. Or Shadowdale. Silverymoon and Waterdeep will assuredly have people willing to aid. Just ask for an Aerasumé."

"Your sons' family name, I learned."

"Yes."

"Should I find myself in that much need, I shall."

It was not a lie. There might be something, once he was a drow again, that would need more than he could give and be a large enough threat to overcome prejudice.

"Until then, may the Named Ones be kind," Sharr said, walking him out, as other farewells had already happened.

"Sharrevaliir… watch over yourself," Drizzt said for his own farewell. He hoped, one day, to see if this man could be fair to a drow.

Drizzt had found — or been found by — the small family of pegasi two days out from the village. While he was checking them all over, providing petting or scratching, another person entered from the other side of the glen.

The ranger looked… and wished he had not in the next moment. No pure elf was that tall, and yet the features hearkened strongly to the elf-witch he was seeking to reverse the spell on him.

"Saer," he said, to be polite, knowing it probably was nowhere near the respect the god wished, but he was fed up with divine meddling. At least, he amended, divine meddling that was not Mielikki giving him a guide to trouble to end.

"Ahh, but that is what I did, Drizzt Do'Urden. I was merely more direct than the Supreme Ranger."

"It is impolite to eavesdrop on one who does not even follow You," Drizzt said mildly. "Such I would expect from the Spider Queen, but I was told Seldarine of the surface were more fair-minded."

The laughter that exploded from the god, after a long moment of just staring at Drizzt, was unexpected.

"No wonder Khalreshaar argued for you, and brought My daughter into it." The too-tall elf brushed a hand over the stallion of the family group as He came closer. "You were under a curse, by the way, from My never sufficiently damned former consort. I saw to the removal before setting you where you could return the favor to Me."

"So you were Laranrua," Drizzt said, confirming his suspicion, and mostly ignoring the last so his temper didn't get the better of him.

"Corellon Larethian, to give My current name. I won't add the titles; you'd likely find a way to skewer them all." He waved his hand, and Drizzt felt everything tingle, before he was able to see his very black skin once more. Despite that, he pulled a lock of hair around to confirm it was white.

None of the pegasi fled.

He might process that fact at some point, but for now, Drizzt looked at the god. "Sharrevaliir is a good man. I hope my meddling here makes for the better overall picture you spoke of."

"It will. My concern, young drow, was that with you having been hidden from all Seldarine, Light or Dark, meant that Lolth was planning a new era in Her schemes against elf-kind," Corellon explained. "As part of the terms of the end of the war was that She could not hide any drow from Her children. Getting around that by hiding you from all was concerning.

"Now, I have My Lorekeeper, who has contacts in drow society to a degree, and My people will be better able to prepare, should it be needed."

"There are many words there that make absolutely no sense for me. But, as you have restored me to myself, I think we are done?"

Corellon looked surprised, and actually studied Drizzt intently. "I made you an offer."

"I did not believe it. Or that it could be done. My father said he was at peace. For me to disturb that would be selfish."

"Are you certain Khalreshaar meets all your needs? I could use someone who is like you," Corellon told him. "No, never mind, My daughter will be reaching out to you soon enough.

"If you would step clear of the mare, I will set you back where I took you from," he finished.

Drizzt gave one last pet, and moved away, steeling himself for the magic.

Chapter Three

That had not been quite like a teleport, but the change in air and pressure and smell were quite overwhelming. Drizzt knew he was at altitude again, and out of the forest, so that much of Corellon's meddling seemed to be ended. Reluctantly, as his head was swimming though ice, he opened his eyes to see a drow crouched in front of him.

"Son. What in the Abyss have you done that a god, a faerie god at that, was paying attention to me or you?"

Zaknafein. Weapon Master. Father.

Drizzt ignored the question and launched into a hug, clinging to the man that had died twice over because of him, burying his face into the man's throat, and feeling those arms come around him with solid strength. His father was here, alive, solid… despite Drizzt having not asked that reward, despite him actively being disrespectful of the King of the Elven Gods.

"Father," he breathed, completely lost in the knowledge that Zaknafein could learn to live free!

"Yes, son." With almost hesitance, Zak started stroking Drizzt's hair, until Drizzt finally allowed some separation.

"I… I told Him you said you were at peace!" Drizzt said, a little upset, worried that this was not what Zak wanted.

"Probably had already been handled," Zak mused. "I've been here several cycles of the lights? Days and nights, I suppose, though that… blaze in the sky is harsher than Narbondel ever was. The faerie god said for me to be patient, that you'd be here soon, but who knows what they think of as 'soon'?

"And… as He convinced me, I now get to know you, to see what you have become. That's worth risking life again."

Drizzt felt a pressure in his throat, but it felt good, just overwhelming, that his father would choose this.

"I will teach you everything, and we will spar, and I will do my best by you!"

"I think the spar sounds really good, once you're a little more even-footed. Whatever magic you got hit with seems to have been worse than just waking back up to life."

"Probably, but that won't take me long!"

Even though it was really only barely autumn, Drizzt opted to start gathering, hunting, and preserving right at his winter cave. He had so much to teach Zaknafein, and his father needed time to let his eyes and skin grow accustomed to the light. Corellon had least given him surface clothing and weapons; that was a kindness Drizzt could appreciate.

It was fascinating to Drizzt to teach language and realize that his ability with learning them was not… innate to them both? He puzzled at that when he went hunting, knowing how smart his father was. Maybe it was a matter of the way their learning had been shaped, so Zak didn't have as much flexibility, though he kept at it stubbornly.

"You're chewing on why I don't learn words as easy as you," Zak said, late one night after a good spar and then more language practice. "I didn't learn to read the drow script — either of them — until I was well past my first century. Malice decided I had to be literate.

"It's harder, when you don't start young."

"I guess that makes sense." Drizzt shrugged. "Dinin could read the raised script. I don't know about the written one."

"I'm surprised you read both," Zak admitted. "Vierna taught you?"

"It kept me busy and stopped me from asking questions," Drizzt admitted.

"Better than breaking your jaw," Zak told him slyly, and Drizzt burst out laughing, having long ago figured out why that had happened.

"Vierna was your daughter too, yes?" Drizzt asked suddenly.

Zak drew in a deep breath. "She was. Until the Spider consumed her."

Drizzt nodded, then leaned against his father in comfort… for both of them.

The other reason Drizzt had not wanted to travel at all, was because of his dreams when he did sleep. He thought this might be the interference of yet another deity, presumably Corellon's daughter, but he kept hearing a song that reminded him too strongly of the elf ritual before the raid. Every time it began, Drizzt found himself wading up out of sleep rather than have that reminder. It led to him sleeping in shorter intervals, more frequently, much as he had done during his years in the Underdark wilds.

He had no idea just how much his rejection of those dreams were striking at the goddess involved.

Eilistraee tried not to put too many demands on Her Chosen, but the idea of a good drow, one who had even won Her father's respect, rejecting Her was causing a pain that lashed through the Twice-Chosen. Qilué Veladorn was the one to sink into deep communion, not for answers, but to offer comfort, if at all possible.

"Lady, Your hurt is palpable to me; share it and let me try to ease it?" the cleric offered.

"A drow, a young fighter, has recently been shown to me," Eilistraee said. "He has begun to sleep lightly, in small periods, to avoid the song I share with all of you."

"What city is he in, so that I might move people to aid him, explain it is not to be feared?" Qilué pressed.

"He is on the surface already, and could not hear Me, because of Her interference. Yet now that the block is removed, he wishes nothing of the song's offering?" Eilistraee's distress was strong. "Khalreshaar, in Her human guise, is his patron, and She can only say that perhaps he is much abused by gods. Father gave him a quest, and even with Khalreshaar, he holds her to a high level of accountability, to walk Her road fully, or he will reject Her, even.

"I do not understand when all We seek is to help!"

Qilué murmured soothingly. "Share where he is, and I will still send someone to aid him. Though, I am shocked that Corellon would choose a drow for anything."

"It was the price demanded to remove the reason he was hidden," Eilistraee admitted. "Khalreshaar and I brought the case to him."

"Ahh, well. That must be done; now we need to help him move past his distrust," Qilué said, as the location was imprinted in her mind. "Leave it to me."

It was not often that Qilué availed herself of the full ability to speak to the family at large. However, the spot that this mysterious drow was in, due to location and season, was not easily accessible to any of the clerics and their bands of wanderers. She did not want the drow to spend a winter isolated, when there were other options.

~Nephews, Sharrevaliir, sisters, I have a request to make, if it can be easily done.~

~Go ahead, Qilué; you rarely ask.~ Sharrevaliir was the one to take point, before Syluné could take charge. It amused Alustriel, even as she knew her older sister was likely saying things aloud about presumptuous elf lords.

~In the Nether Mountains, north of the Rauvin, on the southern side but not near Jalanthar or Everlund, there is a good drow wintering.~

~And you have no one near? I can easily go; I'm not tied up in anything at present,~ Storm told them all. ~I'm in Everlund, so I should be able to find them before true winter.~

~Thank you, sister. I leave it in your hands how you handle this,~ Qilué responded gratefully, falling away from the conversation.

Storm let her sending anklet recharge, then reached out to Dove alone. ~Joining me? It's probably the one you asked about, given that location.~

~Yes. I do not know how it can have taken, what, five years now for this to come up?~ Dove sent back. ~I'll meet you at your place in Everlund by morning.~

~Until then.~

Dove had expected the drow had only improved in the years since she first became aware of him. She had not anticipated just how good at vanishing he truly was, not when she had a solid lead to follow. She didn't have anything of his to give to a summoned animal for scent-chasing, so that was left off her table of tricks.

"Let's hope Florin's teaching makes this easier on me," Dove said cheerfully, settling against a tree to reach out to the flying creatures of the region. It was nearing dusk, and while bats were not creatures she could truly understand, there were a few owls already readying for hunting. She summoned one of them to her, treating it to a piece of smoked deer, before giving the impression of a drow, asking it to merely look for and report to her.

It flew off with an indignant scolding at her, and offered nothing back but mantled feathers as it launched.

"That didn't go so well," Storm said.

"It does, however, mean we are in the right area," Dove told her. "If the local wildlife won't work against him, after all. I should have remembered Mooshie had an owl companion; the drow — if it is my drow — probably would have them all charmed in honor of his teacher."

"Alright, we keep looking until the cold gets to be too much, and then camp. Maybe, just maybe, we'll spot his fire," Storm decided.

"Doubtful, but it would give something an arcane eye could seek," Dove answered.

They did not, in fact, have any luck finding the drow that night. The next day they started moving higher up, seeking the likely spots for actual caves. Moving quietly, disturbing as little as possible, they kept their senses out for any sign of habitation.

The first awareness was a growl, and both Chosen spun, ready to defend one another, only to be astounded by the biggest cat they had ever seen.

"I had forgotten just how giant she was!" Dove exclaimed, quickly sheathing her sword.

"There is no giant to her, merely Astral energy given form," came a voice that was now behind and above them. "What brings Ranger Falconhand to my wintering range?"

They turned to face him, a deliberate show of trust with the gigantic astral panther behind them now, and still had to look sharply, given he was up in a tree, and standing so the foliage and his cloak blended.

"My sister here, Storm Silverhand, was asked to make an effort to bring aid to you, and invited me, as we both have been trying to learn more of you," Dove told him. "I went that spring; I saw the cairn."

"He passed just at the midwinter point, that year," the drow said, before effortlessly dropping to the ground, walking closer. The great cat circled the pair and came to sit at this side, watching them carefully. "Why seek me at all? You letter had absolved me of the crimes."

Dove sighed. "I like knowing good rangers. I was very impressed by you, Drizzt Do'Urden. And now… well, I will let my bard-sister explain."

Drizzt directed his attention to the other woman, wondering how he had come to know both humans and half-humans with such odd hair color. He wondered if it was a racial characteristic found in one of the many realms that humans claimed.

"Our current trip is because you have recently come to the attention of the goodly drow goddess, and Her people wish you to know you would be welcome among them," Storm told him. "We are allies to the largest band of such, but they do not, currently, have members in this region that could get to you before the deep snows come.

"They have shelter in a mountain range southwest of here, and the winters are milder there."

Drizzt considered, then looked down at his companion, before nodding briefly. "I am not alone now. Another drow, who is not like those I grew up with, but who is not like myself, is with me. I think I will say thank you, but no. I must protect him."

"If he is of a neutral alignment, he would also be welcome. And many of the outer bands accept those that have not fully chosen," Dove suggested. "Exposure to goodly folk can help those, after all."

Drizzt shook his head, a faint smile touching his lips. "He does not know the language fully, and his eyes are hurt by even the moon when it is full. I do not wish to risk him elsewhere, and certainly not with… other drow. Much as I must believe you in that they are good, strange as that sounds.

"Please tell your allies we are grateful for the offer."

The sisters did not let their disconcerted feelings show. Storm took a different tack even. "We shall. But could we at least visit with you for a night or two? I could tell you about them, about their goddess, as I am certain you haven't heard much of her in your travels."

Drizzt considered, then turned, heading up the game trail, a single beckoning motion for them to follow. They came to a cliff face where the drow paused. "Remain here. I will see if you can come inside."

The panther flopped down at the head of the most narrow foot path either woman could imagine, watching them, while they got to see the drow walk without concern across that barely there lip to a hole behind a bush whose roots were clinging to rock visibly.

"Mountain goat," Storm said, when the drow vanished inside.

"Very adept at movement," Dove corrected. "I've seen wood elves move less sure of themselves."

"That too."

Drizzt came back out a few minutes later and waved them to come in. The panther rose, leaped up to a ledge above their level, then down, drawing their attention to the fact the pathway was wider on the other side of the bush.

"We'll go out that way," Storm said, before she went first, the same path Drizzt had taken, levitate at the front of her mind in case she fell. She did make it, though the hole was difficult for her because of her height. Soon enough her sister was with her, and the small entry gave way to a very large living space.

"Very canny living. You use this to winter over?"

"Yes. Found it late my second year, come back to it every autumn. I came early this year, because of trouble and then other adventures." Drizzt waved them toward an area covered with hides over grasses… and they saw a red-eyed male drow in the back corner of the dark cavern. The only light was from a well-banked pit of embers until Drizzt gestured and faerie fire lit the space.

"When yours is at an end, Ranger, I can offer a light, dimmed in deference to both of you, that will last," Storm said. "If I may?"

"As long as it is not too bright or hot," Drizzt agreed. "Storm Silverhand, Dove Falconhand — I told you of her — this is my father, Zaknafein Do'Urden."

~Father?!~

The joint sending, at the same time, caused something of a fritz with the sending anklets but they managed to keep the shock out of their faces and voices.

"You have a fine son, very capable and quick-witted," Dove told the elder drow.

"Yes." Zaknafein leaned back. "Say you have words. About others like him."

"We do," Storm said. "I'll be glad to tell you what I know… and then we can both answer questions."

The sisters had stayed a couple of days, with more stories of the good drow and Eilistraee, but neither man budged on their resolution not to seek them — yet.

At least Dove and Storm both got a chance to cross blades with the drow ranger. That he defeated them individually in under three minutes each, and five when they teamed against him, left both even more impressed.

Now, settled in with their youngest sister in her current wintering cave, Storm raised a point.

"His swordsmanship is almost without peer. He has purple eyes. And there is the cat."

"Yes?" Dove questioned, curious where this was going.

"The ranger that called down a herd of pegasi, several decades ago, to spare our elven kin?"

Qilué shook her head. "Now that I have the full tale of this ranger, he's only been above a handful of years," she said, a rueful look from Dove for the phrasing, as that had been the early story telling.

"I'm just struck by the similarity," Storm told them with a stubborn edge.

"He had no Common," Dove said firmly. "Whereas the elf ranger spoke it fluently."

"But didn't speak an elven tongue," Storm pointed out. "I feel like there has been magical mischief near that drow."

"Perhaps," Qilué conceded. "But it would be very odd if the elf and this drow are the same."

"That is true," Storm offered. "Well, I got the feeling that the father was intrigued, so they may actually come here, next year."

"We will keep our eyes and ears out," Qilué said, before turning to other things.

"No offense, son, but I think we need to head for those other drow," Zak said as Drizzt was readying for the spring travels. "We might not survive another winter together."

Drizzt laughed brightly. They had, actually, argued several times from being in forced, close proximity to one another, as Drizzt poked his own past with many questions at his father. None of them had been terribly serious, and had always ended in a fair enough fashion, but he had to agree.

Living alone with one other person only was almost worse than being alone altogether, no matter how much they loved each other.

"We'll travel by night… and you'll join my fights, if I am pulled to deal with things?"

"Wouldn't miss it. Be nice to see how you fight when there's something serious to it." Zak clasped his son's shoulder. "We did need the time. I think we have a better understanding of you being strange, and me being practical now."

That set both of them to laughing, before Zak moved to ready his own pack.

Other than 'mountains near the ocean' and 'somewhere close to Waterdeep', the directions to the other drow had been left vague. Given Drizzt's path was never a straight line, it took most of the spring to even get to the Sword Mountains at all. He'd found that Zak did know how to swim, albeit as roughly as Drizzt knew his own skill to be, when they crossed the rivers.

They skirted the Krypt Garden Forest, as Drizzt felt no strong pull that way and wandered the edge of the Sword Mountains in a gently curving path, looking for signs of inhabitation up the various hills and peaks. It was not without adventure, but orcs nor goblins stood a chance against two expert fighters and Guenhwyvar.

It had been Zak's suggestion that they go up, higher, when no sign of drow emerged to their keen eyes. With them drawing ever nearer to the coast, Drizzt agreed that was for the best, and actually decided they should summit one of the peaks, to get a feel for the full lay of the land. What he really wanted was to glimpse the ocean, without getting too close to it.

They were maneuvering toward what looked like some stone-built works, curious if they were possibly where the drow had taken refuge. It wasn't that far from the summit they had aimed for, and Drizzt was distracted by all the new scents on the wind. Zak's eyes weren't as adjusted, as they'd set out with the sun still up from their last camp.

"Who in the Abyss puts themselves so damned high to get buffeted by wind all the time?" Zaknafein grumbled slightly as they got close enough to see carvings in the walls. Esoteric marking that didn't seem to align to languages Drizzt knew were visible, as well as a relief of a monstrous creature.

"Probably the Netherese; it's said they had floating cities all through this continent," Drizzt answered him, drawing closer to see if there was a visible doorway. He hopped over a split in the ground, while Zak paused to rub at his eyes.

Zaknafein had just moved to cross the same fissure — wide enough to swallow a person if they weren't careful — when Drizzt felt more than saw or heard anything dangerous. His skin prickled in response to something evil, going for swords, and the stone relief moved, wings sweeping forward in a buffeting gust. It caught Zak fully, breaking his jump, and he leaned into levitate on instinct.

That momentary try for an ability that had failed him late in winter left him scrabbling to avoid the fissure on his landing, while his son launched into battle with the stone creature. He hissed at the audible snap in his leg from the terrible landing, but at least he was on mostly solid ground.

Drizzt went for darkness immediately, not over himself, but to hide where his father had sprawled, giving the man cover while he tried to discern how to fight a creature seemingly made of stone. He did not trust his blades as he would have trusted his adamantite ones of the Underdark against stone. Even the inside of the mouth looked to be solid rock, something he saw too close on its leap forward.

He kept dodging, luring it closer to the stone, away from his father, putting one sword away while it was re-orienting itself on him. Another leap at him, and he used all of his strength to spring up, putting a booted foot on the upper part of its maw to push down. It was not as effective as that trick was against dire beasts, but did give him the ability to spring past the creature.

He was shoving his free hand in his pouch, getting fingers on the figure of wondrous power as he evaded the next strike. Claws tore at the leather protecting that shoulder, and the pauldron straps tore away painfully. The arm stung, but was still usable as Drizzt snapped out 'Guenhwyvar' and hoped she could answer despite the figurine still being in his pouch.

The panther emerged, took stock, and ran away from Drizzt and the creature attacking. Drizzt's eyes blazed, understanding just what was needed, and the creature lined back up for another attempt to catch and rend the drow ranger. This time, Drizzt stood his ground until the very last second as if to attempt to gouge the thing with the sword. When it could not possibly correct course, he flung himself sideways, feeling a raking attack along his flank.

The creature was still moving forward when Guenhwyvar slammed into from behind and slightly above, driving it fully into the rock walls of the structure. She managed to leap free before that wall came down… burying the attacker in the rubble. Drizzt managed to get to his feet, wavering as that last attack had scored deep gouges in his hip and upper thigh, but the rubble did not move.

Guenhwyvar took up the watch in answer to Drizzt's need, ready to keep hitting it with all of her weight if necessary, so her drow could hobble to his father. The darkness was dispelled to show Zaknafein already attempting to determine how bad the break actually was.

"Spider eggs," Drizzt swore on seeing the extent of his father's injury.

"I'd say something a little harsher, if I were you," Zak said, grim humor in every line of his face while his son dropped to tend him. "You're bleeding."

"So are you, just on the inside," Drizzt said.

"That's where the blood belongs, right?"

Bitter, hysterical laughter greeted those words, while Drizzt figured out how best to splint the break.

Melaryn was usually not given to being headstrong when Boesild was out flying with her, but she was a pegasus, and she was as free-willed as he was. A nice evening flight that suddenly veered inland, heading for the peaks meant she had either been summoned by others of her kind, or she had scented something they needed to destroy.

Making certain of his wand, as he honestly didn't have many attack spells on tap, Bo let her guide them, and made out one of the ancient outposts ahead of them in the dim light. It looked different, and he could not make out why from this distance in the growing darkness.

Then, as they did get close enough for his eyes to adapt, he saw something stranger than his usual fare. The outpost had one broken wall, a gigantic black cat, and two… drow? What in Azuth's name were two of his aunt's people doing so close to the outpost of a long dead people? Or… were they?

Melaryn didn't seem to have the same misgivings, and was heading for a landing, not to bash any of them, with the giant black cat giving voice to something that might have been a greeting.

"Peace… Aerasumé, I presume?" one of the drow called.

"I am," Bo called back, realizing both — men, they were male — drow were injured. The cat did not move from where she sat watching the broken wall, and Melaryn impatiently nosed him to get off once she was on the ground. "I have potions, if I have your word you mean me nor my friend harm."

"I would never, in all my life, harm a pegasus, let alone one they deem worthy," the one sitting up said. "And my father will not as he likes staying on my good side."

The one lying down, leg in a makeshift splint of scabbards and cloth, snorted at that.

"Well, I am on the unbloodied… no, your arm is bloody too."

The laughter, pained as it was, between the men reassured Bo and he fished for potions. "Damn, I only have one potion," he said as he realized the second vial was an elixir.

"He can't walk; I can," the younger man, with eyes that had a warm purple glow, not red, said to him.

"You're — dammit, Drizzt," the father said at seeing the younger one's jaw clench.

Drizzt. Purple. Two swords. And respecting pegasi? Had known his last name before he said it?

Bo felt his world turn a little sideways for a moment, but he handed the potion to the younger one, who helped the elder drink it down.

"What happened?" Bo asked, once the elder was removing the splint, and the younger was rummaging in his pack's spilled belongings for other items.

"Winged stone creature under that rubble. My friend is keeping watch — do be careful of your hooves and legs!" Drizzt called to Melaryn who had begun walking on the broken stones, stomping every now and then to push debris down harder. She nickered back at him, and then the cat clambered on top of the stone to help the pegasus apply more pressure.

"Gargoyle. If you can break them, they tend to stay down, and the wall's stone should have been heavier than it. Huh, never realized one was lairing here," Bo said, before coming to lend a hand in anyway he could.

"Its wings hit us both with a gust of wind, and father was mid-jump. Bad landing," Drizzt said, getting a grunt from the older drow.

"Want me to send to one of your people for a cleric to come up here?" Bo asked.

"We haven't actually met the ones we were told of, but you know of them?" Drizzt asked, as he poured a tincture over the gouges that had torn his breeches, tears he had widened before hunting for the stinging liquid.

"Melaryn isn't having a fit in your direction, so you're not Vhaeraunite."

"Abyss, no. That one got most of my generation killed," Zak growled. Bo wondered at that, but drow politics and godly involvements were probably brutal. "Son, be still and let me and the faerie — elf — do the cleaning and packing."

"He's half-human, and given the arm is making it difficult to twist, fine." Drizzt laid down, hips twisted to present the injured one, but his back flat so he wasn't lying on the arm the pauldron had been ripped off of. "Not looking forward to making hardened leather to replace the arm guard."

"I'm sure the good ones have supplies to share," Bo said, glad when the elder drow put faerie fire around the gouges, to help them see as they packed each stripe that bled and oozed. "If I am sending to one I know?"

Bo looked at the elder, sensing he was the one that might need convinced.

"Go ahead. My son's in no shape for further fighting for at least a few days." He then took a breath in. "I think he told me the words are 'thank you' for help."

"It's what me and my brothers do," Bo said, understanding the slight prickle in the words. Gratitude was difficult for drow. It implied debt, after all.

He sat back once the bandages were in place, and saw to sending to his aunt, with a promise to stay with the pair until someone could be here.

Chapter Four

The elder drow and Bo had set a camp, and Drizzt had seen to making a meal from what they were carrying that they could share with the half-human. Guen came and nuzzled him toward the middle of the night, having pushed herself to stay as long as she possibly could. When she circled Drizzt three times and vanished, without Drizzt doing any form of dismissal, Bo's eyes went large.

"I try to keep the burden of the figure as lightly on her as possible, and gave her permission years ago to return to her plane on her terms," Drizzt said, catching that look.

"How very fascinating." Bo then turned his attention to Melaryn, saw that she was settling for the night now that the cat was gone. "After I rest, I can make certain I have the right spell to make certain that resting place for the gargoyle is permanent.

"If I can impose on you, Saer, to guard me during that," Bo added, focused on Zaknafein as he said it.

"I will."

The extension of trust was more because Bo felt the man would do nothing to upset the younger drow, and Melaryn had, as she browsed the grass available, come to check on that one repeatedly. It was only reinforcing to Bo that this drow was very similar to the elf ranger his eldest brothers, and the baby, had spoken of so long ago.

"My contact says it will take at least a full day for a cleric and band to make it to us, and I actually don't have pressing duties, if we can keep you both company?" Bo offered.

"Company would be welcome, and that will mean more than just me to make him stay off that leg," Zak said, agreeing. "How did any kind of faerie come to know a drow well enough to ally? Or are you related to the two women we saw before the winter?"

Drizzt's eyes turned toward Bo, very curious about his answer.

"Storm and Dove?" Bo asked, remembering dimly that they had gotten into some kind of adventure near winter after doing a favor for their youngest sister. Zak nodded. "I'm their nephew. My mother lives in the Silver Marches, and my father in the High Forest. I'm on staff at a local magic school, but we're between classes currently."

Bo saw a very small nod, as if Drizzt had put things together, and he wanted, so badly, to ask questions.

"Given we're dedicated to improving life where we can, allying to the rare good drow made sense for many reasons," Bo continued.

They finished the modest meal, and Bo took the dishes, cleaning them with quick cantrip uses. Zak actually chuckled.

"Wizards," he said with amusement.

"Yeah," Bo said, grinning as he passed their dishes back to be put away in their packs. "Why work too hard?"

"Can't argue with that." Zak then turned to get his son comfortable for sleeping, despite, for them, it being so early. Drizzt sighed at his fussing, but allowed it to happen, understanding a deep need had rooted in his father to actually do things for him.

Bo settled as well, and Zak took first watch, despite assurances Melaryn would know if anything threatened them first.

Before he dropped into studying his spells, Bo reached out to the eldest brothers. ~Need one who was on the Ritual Hunt to go to aunt Qi and stay there until a pair of new drow show up.~

~Dad's out of village; I can't go,~ Dol answered.

~We've got a headache in the northern woods,~ Andy told them by way of apology.

~I'll handle it, Elin. I know you and Lyrei are finally on your get-away.~ Ghael then kicked off a new set of sendings. ~Why do you need one of us to do this?~

~Because one of them is named Drizzt, purple eyes, two swords, pegasus-friendly, and he knew our family name.~

There was a cacophony of startled replies before they agreed Ghael was best to see if it was all a coincidence or not.

A cleric, four fighters, and a baby proved to be the ones closest to the group. So even though three of the five adults were women, even Zaknafein did not feel threatened in the least. Having delivered his new allies into friendly hands, Bo mounted Melaryn and headed back for Waterdeep. While the cleric was healing Drizzt's wounds, Zaknafein found himself occupied by watching the father — who had been wearing the baby in a sling — entertain the small drow.

"One of the biggest changes for us that come from the webs is learning to actually parent, men and women alike," the fighter told Zak, smiling at the baby who was trying to grab the beads in his braids as the man leaned over the small one. "If the father wishes, he is the first to hold the newborn.

"And I swear it changed all of my reluctance about living the way we do into something better."

"I… I think I can see that," Zaknafein said, stealing a glance to his impossible son, watching him flex the arm as the cleric moved on to his gouged leg. "Boy or girl?"

"Girl," the man answered, unaware of the wound that was in Zak's soul.

"A better way," Zak murmured.

"We think so. And if we can truly reclaim a part of Undermountain to be our very own village, a safe place, she might wind up with several her age, instead of being the only little one around for years."

"This sounds like something my son and I can lend a hand toward, if we meet your leader's approval," Zak said, something like purpose rising in him. The other fighter smiled at him, free and without ulterior motive.

"She already does. We've been hoping the two of you would come, and are very sorry none of us saw you on your trek."

"We were looking, but … something tells me we both still move in shadows more than we might should have for this journey."

They all arrived at a secluded, difficult-to-reach glade a few days later. Nor did they come empty-handed, as Drizzt had taken down a deer to bring as a gift that very afternoon. The fighters delivered it to those who were handling the cooking and preservation for them at this time, while the cleric brought the two newcomers to a small family group that included a man that very much looked like Bo to Zaknafein's eye.

There were many drow present, but the man was the only non-drow present, and Drizzt was sizing him up.

"Greetings, and welcome," the seated mature drow woman said, making Zak really appraise her. If she stood… she'd be as tall as the silver-haired half-human! And her hair was not white, he realized, being silver like the half-human's.

"This is Qilué Veladorn, her consort Elkantar Iluim, their daughter Ysolde, and … Ghael, yes?"

"You got it right on first try! Well done," the half-human said, smiling.

"These are Zaknafein and Drizzt Do'Urden, First Sister," the cleric finished introducing.

"Thank you, Marena," Qilué said. "Please, sit and rest your legs," she suggested. Both men did, but rather than focus on her, Drizzt turned to Ghael.

"Is your father well?"

Ghael chuckled. "So it is you. Yes. He and uncle Kor are out and about with little brother, enjoying a few adventures."

Drizzt tipped his head at that, frowning. "I'd been led to believe that even half-humans had longer childhoods."

Now Ghael was the one who was puzzled. "He's more than old enough. He's been going out with them or us for the last twenty odd years, could even break off and go alone since he's past sixty now."

"How? What in the Abyss did that faerie do to me?!"

Zak's eyebrows rose, knowing just which one his son had to mean.

"What elf, and can someone explain more?" Elkantar enjoined, very curious now.

"Corellon," Drizzt said. "Even if He did give me my father back, I'm still not inclined to like Him much for stealing my choice from me and putting me in elven guise!"

"Wait, what?!" Ghael demanded, as this drow used scornful tones, and … personal inflections about the King of the Seldarine.

"Oh this is going to be fascinating," Ysolde said helpfully, and Drizzt grabbed the edge of his temper, pulling it firmly under control. He had gaged her as young, and would not present a violent temper near a child, strange as that seemed when she looked adult in size.

"Last summer, or early autumn, an elf approached me, gave the name of Laranrua, and she was… speaking of a quest, to protect a Lorekeeper. Only, she was merely a guise, and before it was all said and done, I was transported to the High Forest, looking like a wood elf.

"I did wind up protecting the man, mainly because of the sheer weight of evil surrounding the would-be killers. I could only hope that I had not opened the door to worse evil, and the week I remained in their village seemed to allay my fears. The Lorekeeper was a good man, and a fair one."

"And that was over forty years ago," Ghael said softly. "About forty-five, I think."

"His whole life, or near it," Zaknafein said. He had no idea how much that shifted Ghael's perspective again. "The same god bargained with the one who held my soul, and saw me returned to life, as reward for Drizzt's actions. Not, mind you, that He got off very lightly. The god who had salvaged my soul was already angry over Seldarine interference, because of the Spider having chained my soul to a perversion of my body after my first death."

"There is a lot packed into all of these words," Qilué finally said in the silence that followed that. "You do not know me yet, but I can attest that Khalreshaar and Eilistraee only meant to free you of whatever spell had hidden you from us.

"That Corellon chose to do as He did… I think my Lady would certainly wish to apologize to you for that."

Drizzt drew in a long breath, let it out, then looked at her. "Your allies… sisters, I think now, explained about the Dark Maiden to me. And I have my own bargains with Mielikki, so I am certain She only wished to remove the taint. I am mostly angry at the way it was done, from Corellon's side."

"Very astute, yes. They are my sisters. Bo and Ghael and the others you have met are my nephews," Qilué confirmed. "Now, despite all of the meddling involved, will you and your father still accept hospitality and refuge among us?"

"We will. Including your plans to build a place," Zaknafein said. "Though Drizzt may well range far and wide; he likes the damnable ball of fire and all this space among trees!"

Drizzt chuckled, letting go of the rest of his temper. "I do, and yes. Somewhere to return to, where we don't irritate each other by mid-winter is a good plan."

"Then so be it," she said, "and thank you both."

"That's all settled… care for a spar later?" Ghael said, shaking off his stunned amazement that he'd been beaten, multiple times, by a child in his eyes! Wait until he told his uncle.

After the three spars — Drizzt and Ghael, then Zak twice with Ghael — the half-human sprawled next to Drizzt lazily.

"I am to tell you the child is fine, that my aunts found her and have sponsored her for care. I was also told 'don't ask' so I am not. But given the care they took her to was Charic, I felt that was pertinent to add."

To Ghael's surprise, both Zaknafein and Drizzt looked relieved by his news.

"If you could pass on my gratitude," Drizzt said, once he opened his eyes from the overwhelming emotion.

"I'll do that," Ghael promised. "Zaknafein, the one to look for here is a woman named Rylla. She is considered the best fighter among them, and will probably be Sword Mistress, when the Promenade of the Dark Maiden is carved out.

"She's hard to miss; bit taller than the average drow, eyes and ears like mine due to her half-human status. I have fun when she is around, to remind me I haven't learned everything."

"As good a swordsman as you are, saying that? I look forward to meeting her." Zak looked at the various groups, pairs and more than, settling into shared sleeping spots around the glen, small families or groups of friends. Ghael could almost see the elder drow relaxing to the way these drow lived, and had little doubt the canny fighter would fit right in.

"I am not yet tired," Drizzt said. "Can you tell me of what to expect when we do enter the Undermountain domain, so I can be prepared?"

"Yes, tell us of likely threats," Zak encouraged, and Ghael settled to do just that.

Every foray into Undermountain, to try and claim the largest bubble cavern they had identified, was a new kind of joy for the Do'Urden men. Working together against serious threats with a purpose that meant children could grow up safe and loved made both throw their everything into it. Drizzt was willing to stay in one place all year, to stay underground much of that, to see this done.

Slowly, Zaknafein was coming to trust that he was safe, and proved to be social, in his own way, mostly with the men and those women who chose the blade as their sole focus. He was finding that, for all he had built shields around himself, it was more his nature to look for others to teach and support. Drizzt encouraged it, and was always willing to intervene if Zak did get overwhelmed.

Zak returned the favor, watching Drizzt for signs of being rock-crazy, and making certain he went out to hunt and gather for a week or two.

When it came time to make a route to Skullport, so they would have a way to trade openly — in Waterdeep they had to hide behind glamours — Drizzt and Zaknafein were the obvious candidates to lead the party along the roughly mapped tunnel, to clear it and put the ward line in place. That would require frequent refreshing by the wizards, but it would take fighters of skill to make it possible to begin with.

The rest of the party was amused, as father and son turned it into something of a competition, playful but deadly serious every time they engaged a new monster. The scoring of their game was something that was contested between encounters, with the others offering their observations.

One thing it was teaching Zaknafein above all others… his son was going to be the stronger fighter in the long run.

When Skullport had acquired a new priestess earlier in the year at the small temple of Vhaeraun, there had been grumbling from the mercantile company that managed drow business there. Two failed assassination attempts had taught them they were going to have to abide by Vhaeraun's wishes, especially when a senior investor in the company was killed in the second attempt.

Licking their wounds from that, wanting a fight and not able to take it with her or the other drow of the temple without actually losing their god's favor made the group of drow who were strangers a fat target. Or so they thought, especially as the cleric in the group had robes with moons and swords on them.

It began with supposed overtures of peace, but the group was on guard. One of the merchant's fighters flicked a knife idly toward the youngest looking fighter while he was watching and listening, only to have the knife batted out of the air on reflex off the fighter's vambrace. The very next heartbeat, two of the Dark Maiden's fighters, including the one the knife had been thrown at, had their swords out, and were moving to be between the main group and the merchant-folk.

"Move on," the elder said, eyes full of death and voice iced with menace.

"We don't want your kind here," the leader of the group declared.

"What you want is not what you will get then."

"Try not to kill them," the cleric called, showing absolute faith in their fighters. "We don't want to attract the Watch after all."

Feeling mocked, the knife-thrower drew a sword —

— the two fighters, both armed with full length swords, proceeded to injure wrists, arms, and leave thin lines of blood on exposed skin.

Not a single Vhaeraunite died, yet the pack of seven fled for their lives after just a couple of minutes under that expert onslaught.

"Either of you hurt?" the cleric asked. Father appraised son, and the other way around, before they grinned. "I take that as a 'no'," she laughed, before the party moved on, retrieving the knife and one sword that had been dropped.

Vierna had taken the report from one of her informants and found it all but impossible to believe. She knew her Lord had not revealed all of the reasons for moving her to this strange city, but she played over the youth's words one more time.

"The merchants were sent running by two fighters, one with straight long swords, the other with curving ones, in both hands!"

Drizzt's preference for scimitars made it likely he was one, but he certainly could not have sired and trained a child in their father's style in the short years since his escape! So who was this other drow like them? Had he managed what she could not, and stolen their father's body? Had he managed such a coup after her own escape?

That was too impossible to consider, and she wondered if he'd merely managed to find a drow among the sword-dancing good ones of skill enough to work with.

The youth had stated the group was moving toward the market place, so she took the time to put on her more concealing cleric robes, threaded through with spell-worked bats, and her mask before heading that way to see for herself.

A group of six drow, one a cleric, two wizards, and three fighters, if she had to guess by their clothing. The fact the cleric wore a visible sword was a reminder that for all the Twin's peaceful ways, Her people were fierce in their own way. She would need to meditate on His thoughts that there were members of Her church in His claimed territory.

Two of the fighters, neither with their hair braided or shaved, were standing with their backs to her, yet they both seemed familiar in how they stood, making her wonder even more at just what her little brother might have done.

It had to be him, yet the presence of the second —

— that one turned, and the profile was the same as she had seen time and again in her decades of life before everything went to the Abyss in her careful planning! She had intended to get both men out of the city, and failed. Then came the sacrifice, which she had been summoned for later than her sisters, leading her to suspect Malice was aware of a threat from Vierna in that awful mess.

She hadn't seen a way to save Zak, had not been able to rescue the body before vanishing herself… but that was her father, the Weapon Master, surveying everything around him.

How did she even approach the man that she had stood by, doing nothing, as he was killed? Her brother, she was certain she could have mollified, but the Weapon Master had been cold to her for so long already!

While she deliberated, Zaknafein walked away from the group, and Drizzt glanced around him — he looked strong and relaxed! — before going to help lay out the wares they had on one of the rented tables of the market. She should probably get a street urchin to make an invitation to The Dimmed Lantern. That would be the best way to handle this, on truly neutral territory.

She turned to go to that tavern and inn, deciding to be prudent, and found the Weapon Master had already maneuvered around her while she made up her mind, watching Drizzt work.

"You people should know. I don't follow the Dark Maiden's ways. So if the earlier lesson wasn't enough, I can and will make a more permanent one."

"I would actually wish you hadn't been so merciful earlier, given those idiots… Zaknafein." She pulled all of her experience in living a double life, of surviving Arach-Tinilith close to give her strength. "I am glad to see you defied death, much as I regretted not seeing a way to prevent in the first place."

To his credit, he betrayed no shock or surprise, merely considered her a very long moment.

"I have no love for the Masked God either," he said, "so your ploy is worthless."

"Perhaps it will seem less a ploy if I mention that, as a young girl, my watcher was put to sleep, and you delivered a pirate spider, with a harness of my hair, and yours? The price, Weapon Master, was to watch and learn.

"I did learn, and that is what opened the door to my serving my Lord, not that … abomination. I never served Her, though I had to perform certain actions to stay alive."

Zaknafein gave a short nod to that. "I will not allow harm to come to my son."

"I am so thankful to learn he survived!" Vierna said fiercely. "Please, both of you, come to The Dimmed Lantern, a neutral place. It might well be a good place for your party to rest, given their natures run counter to the general sway of power in this city."

"We'd been told of it." The man watched her a moment longer. "Tonight. Leave word which room. Until they are somewhere safer, Drizzt nor I can be too far from them."

"I will do so… father." That did get a reaction, a slight softening of posture.

"Until then, daughter."

If nothing else, Zaknafein would hold this memory close against all further pain and suffering in his life. Seeing Drizzt put aside his own issues, watching Vierna cling to his son, seeing the deep relief in both of his children? There was no torture that could ever take this from him.

The quiet conversation, the ease that came as each accepted the new status quo were just icing on the cake. When Drizzt began roaming again, Zak would be able to escape over here, to see how his daughter fared. The future was looking like one Zak wanted to live in.

Chapter Five

In the spring of his ninth year on the surface, Drizzt found his need to travel overwhelming his willingness to say inside rock most of the time. He was assured his father was safe and welcome, both with the Dark Maiden's folk and with the temple of Vhaeraun. Qilué, as much as she was bewildered by the family of three alignments choosing to remain family, was actually glad to have that nominal connection.

The Twins, after all, sometimes allied against greater threats, even now.

The initial pull on him was east, and when his path brought him to the area at the very edge of the High Forest, with the Star Mounts rising above the trees, he wondered what new threat might be present in those elf-thick woods. He continued on, feeling a draw that refused to be denied, using his skill to evade those rangers and druids sworn to protect the Unicorn Run. Had one of them become corrupted? Was that what this was? Did Mielikki need his ability to protect Her sacred area?

The draw took him not to the headwaters, but over, to the first foothill of the Star Mounts, and then his questioning completely evaporated in joyous equine noises and the bustle of a mare landing to lip at him happily, her family herd close by and settling to the ground more deliberately.

"Oh you are my friend from then! All grown up and with a pair of your own children, a mate too?!" The mare danced and bobbed her head, before leaning into him, encouraging him to pet and scratch. Drizzt resolved to stay here, or wherever their nest was, for a few days, to let the stallion and pair of young pegasi — probably in their second year now — grow accustomed to him as well. Maybe he'd even see this mare's siblings, doubting the parents still lived.

The evening that Drizzt had planned to leave, he woke to find one of the pair of young pegasi with him, and none of the rest. He was perplexed; normally they foraged as a group.

"Why are you here, not with your family?"

The colt came and butted his full head against Drizzt's chest, blowing out a soft breath and swishing his tail contently. It took a long moment to sink in; the colt wished to stay with him.

"But you should be with others!" Drizzt protested.

That got the head over his shoulder, a firm denial of the words. Drizzt was astounded; he'd never expected to be chosen by one of the pegasi. The whispers of the leaves said this was why he'd been guided here, and that further left him in awe.

"Thank you," he said, to his new friend, and to his patron deity. "I guess, as I do not wish to return to Waterdeep, nor trek all the way to Shadowdale, we are going up to Silverymoon, to see if an Aerasumé will give me the lessons I need to care for you."

The colt nickered happily at that, before prancing a bit, eager to move along now. Drizzt rolled up his sleeping mat tightly, tucked it into his place on his pack, and began walking beside his brand new friend for life.

The messenger from the Silver Watch slipping in to Alustriel's reception room for appointments this day was unusual, making her arch an eyebrow alertly at them.

"Lady, an unusual arrival today, and he specifically asked if any of the 'Aerasumé' men were in the city," the fighter told Alustriel.

"Not unusual for someone to come here to ask for one of my sons, but why do you say so?"

"A drow, professing to be a ranger of Mielikki — we pointed him in the direction of the Sacred Glade — with a young pegasus at his side. It stood out, and the Watch Captain thought it should be passed along sooner than the afternoon dispatches."

Alustriel gave a faint smile. Even with the protections in place, and pegasi nature, that surely did warrant mention. After all, unique adventurers sometimes had trouble following their shadow.

"I will reach out and see if one of my sons can come and aid the ranger. Thank you."

"Of course, Lady." The fighter bobbed a quick head bow and left.

~Sons, anyone near me available? A ranger has appeared with a young pegasus, and asked for one of you,~ she sent as she went back to writing her correspondence, waiting on the next appointment.

~Alright, who befriended a new ranger?~ Tar jokingly asked.

~Is the ranger a drow by chance?~ Ghael followed up.

~Yes. You know him?~

~He's the ranger that saved Father and the hunt, probably,~ Bo tagged on. ~Sorry; I thought we told you about him.~

~I remember your father being in a strange mood, Kor being livid over something, but never got the full tale,~ Alustriel told them all.

~I have this then,~ Elin said. ~I owe him more than the rest of you do.~

Alustriel put that aside Elin's change in family a few years back, and decided that she just might need to meet the man that had saved her beloved as well as given her a granddaughter in the form of a traumatized moon elf.

Drizzt had wandered, lost in the wonder of this place, all the way to the center of the Sacred Glade, his friend Orthae just occasionally nosing him to move a bit more. Now, kneeling before the altar with the pegasus nearby, he began to understand just how good a divine patron could be. He'd never experienced the sheer rapture his Eilistraeean friends experienced at the full rituals. He'd been as wary of that concept as his father.

Now, though, he realized this was a far more personal fulfillment of a need within himself. Here, he could connect with the fullness of the wilds, yet know he was safe at the same time. There were no others to intrude and trigger his instincts toward fighting or protectiveness. It washed through him, refreshing his spirit fully.

Mielikki kept Her touch on him at just what he needed to fulfill both of their wishes, and shared this pleasure with him fully.

He had no idea just how he radiated his commitment to the Forest Queen as he opened his eyes to find a mature woman sitting on the bench nearby, stroking a goshawk's feathers with a tool for that purpose.

"Back with us, Ranger?" she called on seeing his eyes open and taking her in.

"I seem to be. Apologies, if I have caused any disturbance."

"No, none at all. If anything, I believe our shared Lady is more than pleased to have you visiting us." She smiled at him. "I am Tathshandra Tyrar, recently called as Ladyservant here." She chuckled. "I've been learning the role for years. My mentor has chosen to go retire for his last years."

"Drizzt Do'Urden. I take it that means you are first, among those here, who follow our Lady?"

"Indeed, though we try to keep the balance between all of us that stay in Silverymoon. I have two able Leafs to aid in the day to day needs." She then looked toward the pegasus nibbling at the taller grass.

"Orthae. He recently befriended me in the Star Mounts, and I have come seeking aid for knowing how to care properly for him."

She nodded. "This is Whisper, and he does anything but when he wants attention or is on my business with messages," she introduced. The bird made a much smaller noise than Drizzt expected, as if to defy those words.

"A pleasure to meet you both." He then came to his feet, so he could come closer. Near her, he settled in a crouch, looking up at the bird and woman. "I am not terribly familiar with city customs. Skullport is… odd. And I have not had access to a city before this other than that."

"Ahh, down along the Sword Coast," Tathshandra said. "Never have I seen it, but adventurers tell tales.

"As to city customs, we always provide lodging to those rangers and druids who choose to be inside the walls for any reason. There is an open building — roof, three walls, bedding — that some of the companions use, more than large enough for Orthae to shelter in if he chooses."

"I think he might, but is as likely to explore a bit," Drizzt said after checking with his friend. "He does that when I am sleeping, and sometimes spends a bit of time away from me. I have no wish to hamper his spirit."

Orthae nickered, and came trotting over to lip at his hair, getting a reach up and pat along his neck.

"Then, we shall begin our way around to the cloister. It does mean crossing the Moon Bridge. Normally we don't subject people to that by day for the first time, but your friend cannot use our portals."

Drizzt laughed brightly and stood, offering a hand to the woman to help her to her feet. "I am intrigued now, but eager."

"Oh you are a kind one," she told him, using that aid in rising.

He felt like he had come to the right place.

Nefkare had no trouble determining where the new pegasus in Silverymoon was; the colt was happily playing above the tree line with a variety of winged familiars. On seeing the young mare, though, Orthae did a bit of aerial acrobatics and came to fly near the pair, nickering a greeting.

"Hello to you as well," Elin called. "Take us to your friend?"

Orthae tossed his head a bit, then angled to go set down near the Cloister, where a drow was indeed sitting outside with a book on his lap. The drow took one look up, closed the book and rose, walking it back inside. He was out again as Elin was removing the straps from Nefkare, so that she could learn more of the colt.

"Well met, Drizzt," Elin called, grinning. "I have to admit, Ghael's tale took me a bit by surprise."

"Oh? And well met. Your friend's name, Elin? The colt is called Orthae." On hearing his name, said colt came and planted his full head in Drizzt's chest until he got all of the scratches he desired.

"Nefkare, hatched the year after Ruakerym, if you met Ghael's friend."

"No, only Bo's Melaryn," Drizzt admitted, giving due diligence to the needs of his friend.

"As to why I was so surprised… I'm the one who took in the moon elf child, with my consort, and Mama Charic's help to work with her," Elin told the ranger. That put a stop to the scratching, and the young pegasus instead tucked his head over Drizzt's shoulder in an equine hug.

"I was only told she was well and being cared for, and that Cleric Charic was involved. I was grateful to your aunts for seeing that through." He breathed out, gave Orthae a pat and moved a little away. Nefkare nickered, inviting the younger pegasus to go with her exploring. Once they both had left, Elin gripped both of Drizzt's shoulders.

"Ellifain is a wonderful daughter. Not only did you save my father, my brothers, and myself, but you saved her. Thank you."

Drizzt nodded once, and Elin let go. "Did you come to help me learn how to be a good friend to Orthae?"

"I did, though I was then told that Father is planning to come this way. He's between friends, but is the most experienced of us in pegasus care."

"I will enjoy all lessons, I promise," Drizzt told him, relaxing more into his new role as a pegasus-friend.

Elin began with the basics of care for feathers and hair, for the hooves, what to do if the feathers or hide dulled. Drizzt was an attentive student, annotating a herbarium he carried with notes as to what was good or bad for Orthae.

"He looks to be two springs old. You don't want him to carry weight until he's at least three springs, though closer to winter would be even better," Elin said, sitting with Drizzt in the shade of a tree near the cloister. Both were watching the game that Nefkare, Orthae, and half a dozen pseudodragons were playing in the air.

"His dam was one of the young ones, in the family herd that helped me on the quest," Drizzt said. "She had a pair."

"Some of the mares seem prone to them," Elin answered, grinning. "They're considered lucky in the herds. And if you range near the Star Mounts, you'll probably see his sibling a lot."

"I won't mind that." Drizzt smiled as one of the pseudodragons seemed to 'win' by whatever rules they were using. The group began to disperse, and the pair of pegasi came to land, each demanding pats and treats. "I think," Drizzt said several minutes later, "I will need to find some way to be useful to the Cloister for most of the time we are waiting for the ability to fly together.

"As I worried about getting into battles the whole way here, even as adept as he was at dealing with them. He got worried the one time I took an injury, and I don't need him trying to convince me to mount to bring me to a cleric."

"Boy I know that one!" Elin said. "But you could probably offer to help the Knights in Silver on their patrols. They like hiring rangers on contract, because rangers have a different eye for danger then most of the Knights themselves. Helps keep everyone safer."

Drizzt considered that, having gotten a brief discussion of the different classes of people that made up Silverymoon and its protections. "Something to consider, if the Ladyservant can't keep me busy enough," he said with a smile, and Elin let it go at that.

Father would push that point probably, when he got here.

Elin had left after almost a week's worth of lessons, ruefully admitting that ten days was the most he could truly stay away from home. Drizzt had urged him to go home, with warm wishes for Elin's unmet consort and the child. He'd gone back to learning lessons about being a ranger from those in the Cloister, and learning how life in the city was meant to work.

A few days later, though, a child in livery arrived shortly before Drizzt's usual resting time, homing in on him fearlessly. That alone provoked a soft smile; every new interaction with people who showed nothing but acceptance to him made Drizzt feel more comfortable with using Silverymoon as a long-term home between ranging.

"Saer Ranger, a message for you," the child said, holding out the thin tube. Drizzt accepted it and retrieved the thin scroll of writing from within.

Saer Do'Urden, pardon my rudeness in sending a messenger. I am Sharrevaliir, and I arrived two days ago with intentions of meeting you. Yet this elf and that wizard and the other fighter… well, needless to say, I have been much sought on this visit. If you have the ability to meet with me after evenfeast tonight, at the Palace, I would very much like that. If not, I shall come as soon as I can clear my obligations. — Sharrevaliir S.

Drizzt looked at the child. "Walk inside with me, so I may pen a note back?"

"Of course, Saer!"

Drizzt had been met by a page who was specifically waiting to take him to a room where the meeting could happen. Inside the small but comfortable audience room, a table with a pitcher of water and a tray of finger foods waited. Drizzt wandered the room slowly, taking in the artwork on the walls in the form of vibrant, rich tapestries. It was an interior room with no windows, but very gentle mage lights made it more than comfortable enough to see clearly by.

The door opened several minutes later, and Sharrevaliir entered. Drizzt thought he looked much the same as he had when they first met, though in more colorful clothing, to match the city instead of the forest. The same warmth of feeling that had developed toward the elf before was there even now, making Drizzt eager for this time to better know the man.

"So I get to meet you properly this time," Sharr said immediately, coming to clasp wrists with Drizzt without hesitating a bit. "I told Elin I'd be glad to help you with further teaching about pegasi, and that is true, but I also would really love to hear the entire tale of what happened all those years ago, at least from my perspective.

"Ghael told us the highlights, of course, but I find first person narratives to be more intriguing to hear," Sharr told him, smiling as they both took seats.

"There's not much to tell. I suppose it was four years ago for me? When a tall sun elf approached, hostile at first…" and Drizzt recited the full tale, pausing for questions and commentary, relaxing more into this man's company at the muttered imprecations against Corellon's high-handed tactics in the whole matter.

"I am glad He chose to hide your true nature, only to protect you from the less open-minded elves of my region," Sharr finally said. "But, even then, I would have tried to be as grateful and gracious to you even in your proper form.

"One, I already knew Qilué and her people. Two, the pegasi go by their sense of a person, not appearance. Three… my consort here has spent centuries aiding me to learn broader thinking." Sharr chuckled at that. "And my sons continually add to that," he admitted.

"I believe you," Drizzt said. "Have there, in the intervening years, been cases where you had to stand against drow of the spider?"

"Not directly," Sharr told him. "But there have been stresses and near-fractures of long term alliances with various factions through the High Forest, especially between the wild ones and the wood elves.

"The wild ones follow a god that was once allied to the one who became the spider you speak of. I would not put that down as coincidence, in the light of what Corellon did, and the spell that was upon you to begin with."

Drizzt nodded. "A unified elven presence is a good thing. I don't know that She truly wants to return Her people above, but the Masked God certainly would take advantage of it to gain ground. Which, given Her conniving ways, might have been the intent."

"Ahh yes, labyrinthine plans, where Her estranged Son foments chaos, and then, if She chooses, She takes advantage of it on Her terms," Sharr said. "I can see that.

"But, enough of the past and the gods — are you wedded to staying at the Cloister? I had in mind asking you to room here, letting Orthae have one of the stable boxes to come and go from as he pleases, so that you have access to the library, those Knights who can be persuaded to a spar, and myself."

Drizzt blinked. "I… the offer is generous, and I have no true means to repay the effort. With the Cloister, they call lodging and food as their duty, provided we adhere to our calling when not in residence."

Sharr frowned, then looked at Drizzt seriously. "You potentially saved four of my sons' lives. You saved the life of the girl who is now my grandchild. You probably saved my heart-brother's life. Even with him not there, I honestly don't see him living far past my death, which was evidently what definitely would have happened then.

"But, over and beyond all of that, Drizzt Do'Urden, you are a goodly man, one who is already tied up in strings of destiny, and I am the kind of person who will further your access to everything you could need to meet fate. My consort feels the same. We would choose this for anyone we befriended who has the drive to be a force of change for good."

Drizzt felt his chest tighten again, the same as it had on realizing he would always find a place with Qilué's people, or that he could seek refuge with Vierna. To have another place of safety, when he'd been to the point of believing he would never have anything like that just four years prior? It was overwhelming.

"I accept, Sharrevaliir. And the investment," he said, a wry smile touching his lips, "will be paid into better paths for all I can help."

"Of that, I have no doubt."

The rest of that year and the following one were spent learning the Silver Marches, learning to work with Orthae, and also how to support the Knights in Silver. Through that time, Drizzt met all of the sons he had not, met the Lady of the city, and even met Dove Falconhand's husband, Florin, when he'd gone with Sharr and two of the elder sons to help with an issue in the Dalelands.

The closeness that had been building was one Drizzt treasured and appraised with a growing awareness of how people interacted. It was something he seriously worried over, both with Sharr and with Alustriel. The private moments of conversation, the personal level of teaching and support… Drizzt weighed them carefully.

Now with Orthae able to carry him, and his own growing restlessness from tha weightt, he was striking out for new lands, ready for different challenges. He'd been taken to see his father — then gone to see his sister — in each winter, and told them he might not be back for a few years this time.

What are you running from? You said you're happy there, have plenty to do.

Zaknafein's words haunted him even as he was camped north of Mirabar. Drizzt had carefully damped down the reactions he had to the kindness given to him as being improper, yet the further Orthae took him from Silverymoon, the more he yearned. He thought this was what the pages called a 'crush', and felt the distance would put it to rest. He just didn't know what in his actions or words had let his father see so clearly when neither elf nor human had noticed it.

He rested under one wing of his friend, eyes seeing the stars above, and he made himself firmly think of adventures yet to come. For those behind him, he was too young, too inexperienced maybe, despite his proven skill and competence. Some future day, if the feelings persisted, he might address them directly.

Chapter Six

The nightly gossip session, as various consorts called the deep hours of the night when the Sisters would catch up with each other, had often touched on the comings and goings of people they had in common. One ranger in particular had come up a few times since his spring departure from Silverymoon, but it was late in the autumn when Qilué offered disconcerting news about him.

~Zaknafein brought word from Skullport that Drizzt will not be traveling to any of us this winter as he is in Icewind Dale.~

~Why in all the realms would any elf subject themselves to that place?~ Syluné demanded, still put out that she had not had the chance to meet the ranger before he left to travel.

~For that matter, how is he managing to protect Orthae from the elements?~ Dove asked, fretful over the pegasus stallion.

~He would not risk his friend, and I am certain he has tricks for his own ears,~ Alustriel chided, even as her heart sank. She would have to relay that to Sharr and Kor, both of whom had hoped to see Drizzt when they came for mid-winter. Her own hopes had weighted in that direction, missing the ranger's quick wit.

~I think the better question is what has he found or thinks might be found, given his, hmm, ability for trouble?~ Dove pointed out.

~Zaknafein did not say, and likely doesn't know, as Drizzt is unlikely to tell his sister his actual business,~ Qilué responded once her anklet allowed her to.

Discussion moved on, but the idea of destiny and Drizzt Do'Urden stayed at the top of Alustriel's mind. Maybe she should send to him herself… and yet. Kor had been certain there was more to Drizzt's need to rove than Drizzt had admitted to them all.

It was the height of summer the following year when Zaknafein left, unexpectedly, from the Promenade.

"His daughter called for him," Rylla told the others, shrugging it off. Over the years, they had all adapted to the fact Zak was as neutral as he could be, and would not choose between his children. That he preferred to avoid the power struggles of Skullport was the main reason he stayed in the Promenade.

"I hope it's nothing terrible," Ysolde said with a long sigh.

Most of the ones at her table agreed. They let it go, turning to discussion of summer adventures.

None of them were prepared for Zak's return, two weeks later, with Drizzt walking alongside him. Qilué stood back as others greeted the younger man raucously, taking in the subtle changes she could perceive. His face was firmly settled in mature lines now, and his hair was slightly shorter than she recalled, though still long and unbound.

"So what have you been doing?" Ysolde demanded.

"Learning the ways of the tundra, keeping watch over some fractious towns, and befriending people," Drizzt said with a smile to the woman that wasn't much older than himself. "It's a great challenge. Orthae is happy; there's a specific kind of giant up there he can tangle with. And he's been trying to figure out how he can best help drive the remorhaz we see away from the towns or roads."

"Like rider, like steed?" Elkantar teased.

"Something like that."

If Qilué had to wager, she would guess there was more to it than the glib words, but Drizzt would never mention any true danger where his father might hear and insist on helping with it. Nor would he care to frighten Ysolde. Perhaps she'd manage to talk quietly to him later, and pry at the secrets.

Despite her best intentions, Qilué did not manage to find time to ask Drizzt his true purpose. She was somewhat reassured that when he left, he was carrying a sending stone, attuned to the one his father held. At least if he got himself in trouble, Drizzt could ask for aid from any of the drow he knew and worked with, even his sister.

As Vierna was, still, fiercely loyal to the men of her family and a cleric that was known to be potently in her god's favor, that was no small thing to have access to.

She did pass on that he'd been in, so that Dove and the others were reassured the strange drow ranger lived and still had his ears intact.

Alustriel greeted everyone she knew in the village on her way to Sharr's home. She did not let anything betray her news until after she had hugged both sons present, and kissed her consort. Kor even got a kiss on the cheek, and then she settled.

"I didn't want to have to use sendings to tell you a recent turn of events for our ranger friend," she began, and all four men focused on her sharply. "Zaknafein, apparently, was in Skullport — thankfully — when a friend of Drizzt's reached out with the sending stone. The ranger had been involved in a large invasion of Ten-Towns, and collapsed at the end of the fighting.

"Orthae was injured as well, and there is quite a situation up there, as he nearly killed one of the Town spokesmen."

"If a pegasus chose violence, it was deserved," Del declared immediately.

"Most likely, yes," Dol agreed.

Alustriel nodded, then continued. "As much as Vierna Do'Urden has no love of dwarves — and I have questions about dwarves in that region! — she went to deal with Drizzt's injuries. They only just recently returned, and Zaknafein carried word to Qilué that, in his words, 'his fool son left his blood over a good mile of battle field'. But Drizzt will recover, Orthae was seen to by Drizzt's allies, and now we to wait a bit. It's moving into their autumn, so travel up there by anything other than magic is difficult."

"I know where the marker is," Dol said to Sharr's considering look.

Sharr almost said yes, then stopped himself. "It's already handled, and more fussing might just make the ranger shy away to an even more remote land."

Kor snorted at that, but did not disagree.

"Perhaps, come spring, a couple of us could go trade for knucklebone and check on him then," Dol countered.

"Perhaps."

Nae perched on his mother's writing desk, stealing one of the sweets off the neglected tray of food there.

"New suitor?" he asked, as the tray was not part of the usual array of Palace settings.

Alustriel sighed. "A thank you gift for my negotiation on the odious trade dispute between Sundabar and Nesme." She kept writing on the latest correspondence she meant to send this week. "What brings you, my son? Last I knew, you were in the Moonshaes."

"Hmm, Elin wanted a brother willing to brave the frozen north with him." Nae stole another one of the nut and honey pastries to nibble on. "He acquired the knucklebone that Lyrei is going to work with for her next art, but we failed on the actual motive for going up there. We did see Orthae, at a distance, but we had teleported up, and of course we spotted him the day before a massive windstorm swept in.

"Tar yelped for me, and we decided we just weren't meant to catch up with the ranger after that."

Alustriel paused and looked at him, frowning. "Is your brother well?"

"Yes. He just needed more hands because he found an abandoned wyrmling nest way too close to Hellgate's Keep."

"A very good reason to send for aid, indeed." She returned to her writing. "Any word about these dwarves?"

"Humans didn't seem to want to talk about them," Nae said. "Whatever happened last year — and they're still rebuilding parts of three towns, as well as some of the boats — has left bad blood, I think."

"I wonder if I should send to Drizzt, just to check…" Alustriel mused.

"I'll leave that to you. Dad seemed to think we're supposed to be letting him do his own thing, so neither Elin nor I did."

"And your father is usually correct in how to handle most elves and elf-kin," she answered that with a sigh. "Alright." She gave Nae a quick smile. "Take the rest of them with you, dear? Share them with your friends."

"Yes, Mother." He leaned over and kissed her cheek, scooped them all up, and left her to her work.

The next glimpse of the life Drizzt was living came from Laeral, visiting her friends in Neverwinter.

~It seems the dwarves of Icewind Dale are very real, and no longer of that location,~ she opened her sending with, amusement in her voice.

~Tell us more, little sister,~ Syluné prompted, then launched a new sending so she did not have to wait for a recharge. ~We are very curious.~

~The caravan of wagons seems to hold near two hundred dwarves, and passed by Luskan three weeks prior, headed to Mirabar,~ Laeral replied. She waited for one of the others to make a new round, and continued. ~No pegasus or drow was seen with them, but word has it Mielikki's Needles are more active than usual to the north.~

~Elin and Nae were there at the earliest breath of spring, still winter in truth for up there,~ Alustriel mused at that.

~If the dwarves were already packing up, the timing fits,~ Storm agreed. ~But where is our ranger friend?~

~And what has he gotten himself into, that the Forest Queen is stirring Her people so far north?~ Dove added.

~Don't any of you dare send to him,~ Qilué urged.

~Yes, if he is embroiled, not reaching to his father, it could be dangerous, catch him at the worst moment,~ Alustriel agreed.

~I think a pair or more of pegasus riders might go exploring, just in case?~ the Simbul offered in vaguely curious amusement.

~A good suggestion,~ Laeral agreed, ~except I've decided that I want to do some aerial mapping of the Spine. I'll call if I need back up.~

~Yes you will, oh our adventurous one,~ Sylune sent with love and teasing.

Before Bruenor had headed out, he had given the care and teaching of a barbarian youth to his elf. Drizzt had figured out how to get the boy on his side quickly, taking him to the growing camp of barbarians that were near camps of orcs, goblins, and giant-kind.

"That thing," Drizzt told the boy, pointing to the sickly crystalline tower, "has taken power over all of the tribes that are left. Watch, and see how they are allied to the races near them."

Two days later, Wulfgar left the vantage point, coming to where Drizzt was sitting with Orthae, supposedly napping.

"What do you mean to do, Ranger?" Wulfgar asked with more respect than he'd given so far.

"Learn how to get inside, deal with the wizard, and end the threat that is growing here. Once the wizard is dealt with, I believe natural enmity will take precedence, and this war camp will dissolve."

"What will be my part?"

"That depends on how I can get inside," Drizzt admitted. "Since I found this, I have yet to see how the people go in and out of it. My one plan was to play up being just what you took me for… a prime example of my race. The other, is to allow myself to be captured. Either way, I need someone here, to hold Guen's figure, and to be the secondary attack once I disrupt the wizard." He grinned a little. "Orthae cannot summon her; we tried."

Despite himself, Wulfgar also smiled, before looking at the stallion. Orthae gave a defiant snort of irritation at Drizzt's words.

"Then let us map this out well, and see where I will best be able to cause the disruption, and plan when I will know to go to battle with your spirit cat and Orthae."

Orthae warned Wulfgar before the boy even knew there was another present. He turned at the stallion's snort-stamp just in time to see the tallest woman he had ever seen outside of his own people, landing with a mystical creature that was not a true horse.

"Peace, Uthgardt," the woman in robes said immediately as she was dismounting. "Orthae, yes?" the woman greeted the pegasus. The stallion bobbed his head, before looking at Wulfgar, blowing air to reassure him — and her.

"Why are you here? My teacher's friend speaks for you, but I do not know you, and I have no love of magic. Especially now."

"I was seeking the ranger, and saw the travesty ahead of us. I came to find what his plan is. And my name, if you will trade yours with me, is Laeral Silverhand."

"Wulfgar son of Beornegar." He moved back to the looking point, staring down over the fields below. "He is inside the tower, and tomorrow night is the no moon night. That is when I, Orthae, and his spirit cat will cause chaos through the camps, to try and turn them on one another.

"He will be dealing with the wizard then."

Laeral joined him at the vantage, considering. "You may not have any love of magic users, but I can bring several family members here to aid in that. If you think the ranger is truly able to resist the magic compelling these many peoples to live so close to one another."

"Bruenor told me to trust in him. He has a plan. It was his plan that led to the defeat of my people last year, so I shall hold faith with him," Wulfgar said sternly. "Orthae believes. And he reassured me that the cat would know whether we could trust him when he emerged."

"That is a good point," Laeral said. "Allies?"

"Bring them, but my people are not to be harmed."

"With any luck, only those who manage to see any of us will be harmed by us, and that only if they attack first. But you, Wulfgar son of Beornegar, will plan the attack vectors, having observed them for longer."

While Guenhwyvar was being effective in terrifying the various camps of peoples, racing all around in the deeper shadows, her true attention was locked in on the tower, knowing that her drow was inside, that he was so at risk. There was so little light, and that had made the Chosen pleased, even as she warned all of her nephews who had come not to cast magic in the direction of the tower.

Guen felt, more than anything else, the first tremble of the power in that evil place as something happened within. Moments later, a true door appeared in the base of the tower, with her drow strolling out casually, herding women that were merely wrapped in furs along. He paid no attention to the chaos of the camps falling into fighting, but focused on the tower itself.

A piercing shriek, something like denial, cut the night air, and many of the evil races turned to flee into the dark just before the tower crumbled into rubble — and even that vanished away. Guen bounded over to protect her drow… slowing only so as not to add more fear to what the women seemed to be experiencing. Drizzt dropped his hand to her head, smiling to see her concern, then looked to see what he could best help with.

Five illusory, glowing specters were harassing the races into breaking up faster, Orthae was making the giant-kind regret being anywhere near here, and the barbarians were clustering tighter, drawing up into defensive lines. Had Wulfgar found them and talked sense into them?

"Drizzt Do'Urden," came the very calm speech from a wizard-woman approaching from one side, and he faced her, Guen making a small noise of reassurance.

"You must be Laeral, as I am given to understand the Simbul rarely leaves her chosen lands, and that Syluné affects a mature look and air," he answered her. "I hope you can answer how we destroy — shut up, you vile illicit spawn of a mind flayer — this damnable thing."

She smiled, reassured by both the panther's demeanor and that response. "I am. And we will do all we can. But first, I see we have ladies in need."

"Yes," Drizzt said with grim tones. "They obey commands, but they are afraid, and remember little or nothing from before this place."

"See if they will go with others like you, and I will talk to my sister, to see if she has refuge for them. I think your young friends, and my nephews, are successfully routing this ill-made gathering of foes."

"I think so as well, and I shall."

"Wulfgar is safely back with his people… and new ways of thinking from his time in Bruenor's keeping," Drizzt began, three days later. "Your nephews were kind enough to take the women to the Promenade, to begin healing. And that thing has finally shut up in my head.

"Now what?"

Orthae stretched his neck out toward the ration bar Drizzt had in his left hand, and the ranger turned to look up at him.

"No. Go find grass. I'll hunt fruit for you later, but this has ground up jerky in it, and I don't want you developing a meat habit."

Laeral had to cover her small laugh as the pegasus pretended he had never had intentions on the food, before answering Drizzt. "Syluné, Elminster, and Alustriel have asked me to bring you — and Orthae — to the Floating Mountain, to confer with Valamaradace."

Drizzt's eyes got very large and he actually paused midway to taking a new bite. He caught himself, did take and chew that bite, before replying.

"I will meet the great gold of the north? That is staggering to me."

Laeral snorted at him. "Drizzt, you defeated an ancient scourge of multiple planes. You have been in a god's direct presence. You hold the favor of another. How can this stagger you?"

Drizzt chuckled. "Well, the meeting with the god was a bit of an irritation," he pointed out, setting them both to full laughter.

Alustriel found herself captivated by the changes in Drizzt as they all came together at the Floating Mountain. While the ranger had always carried himself with confidence, there was a new layer to it. She could not quite put a name to that extra confidence, only that it added a polish to the way he carried himself.

She even found herself distracted away from the full report Laeral gave, telling of calling for aid from the family, and how the young barbarian had given them pointers on what the races of the far north feared. When Drizzt moved to tell his part, she managed a better focus, finding his casual way of relaying events humorous — now that the vile thing was fully contained.

"I could find no way in — I have been told that Guen could have found the door, but I didn't know what I was truly dealing with — so once Wulfgar and I had a plan on when to attack, I walked up to the tower with every drop of sneering drow arrogance." Drizzt paused to smile. "The wizard inside was both torn by jealousy at my supposed ability, and eager to have the powerful allies I promised in exchange for no more than a small foothold on the surface.

"He never noted how worn and used my surface gear was, nor did he wonder at my command of the Common tongue. Over the next few days, I learned the ins and outs of the tower's levels, determined where the power source was, and kept talking to ill-mannered beastly thing. It was feeling stilted in its drive by the ineffective holder it had found, but liked the idea of needing to teach me how to properly use the power it held."

"Quite a subterfuge you were running, young ranger," Elminster said, nodding along. "Prolonged contact with its persuasions, and yet you stand here now, uncorrupted by it?"

Drizzt chuckled. "Saer Wizard, that thing wished to make of me what my Matron Mother had intended when I unexpectedly survived the night of my birth. It had no chance in all of the planes of convincing me to take up being its wizard for longer than I needed to end its ability to dominate those races outside."

"So you did actually wield it?" Syluné asked, eyes gone wide.

"Once I had managed to take possession of it, yes." Drizzt grimaced. "I am no assassin, but the wishes of Akar Kessel had filled my ears, and I was not going to see Icewind Dale suffer further losses, let alone the rest of the world.

"I convinced it I had no need of the slaves Akar had kept, that I was going to turn them loose, and then go deal with the meddling outside. Once I had the women safely out, then I commanded the crystal to collapse its tower… and that was when it realized I had fooled it all along."

"Well done!" Alustriel congratulated him. "The strength of your will, Drizzt, continues to be nothing short of amazing."

"You should have heard some of the insults he kept calling it until it was finally silent," Laeral added cheerfully.

Drizzt then looked at the mighty gold dragon, bowing his head to her. "As I said earlier, I loathe having to bring such a vile thing to a wondrous protector of the lands such as yourself. But while a method of destruction is searched for, I can honestly think of no better guardian for its keeping."

"And you are quite right about that," Valamaradace told him. "It will remain here, with myself or my consort in attendance while Elminster and his younger students determine just how to end it."

Drizzt brought his pack around, and brought out the item of ill-repute, wrapped in a dark-colored tunic, that was also bound in cording to keep the artifact from seeing light.

"It would be better placed in a light-proof chest, I think, but I made do with what I had."

The gold dragon took a step toward him and was suddenly a human-appearing woman, reaching out to take it. "You did well." She closed her hand around it, watching him, but as he released it instantly, she settled away from vigilance for the moment. Every Chosen in the room let their own tension go, as Drizzt's surrendering of —

"It is, in fact, Crenshinibon?" Elminster asked, just to have the fact witnessed, given they didn't dare look at the item itself to verify.

"Yes, it is," Valamaradace told them all. Alustriel noted that Drizzt did not take the questioning poorly at all, and if anything, looked glad for the confirmation. Had he actually worried that it had gotten a hold on his psyche? If so, he had hidden that concern adeptly, and that only added to her admiration for him.

"Then we have much research ahead of us," Syluné said, while the human-shaped dragon moved toward a door away from the one that led out. "We'll be in touch, Vala."

"Until then, all of you," Vala answered absently, focused on putting the evil artifact in a safely hidden corner of her hoard.

The others left the meeting room, and Drizzt went to Orthae, ready to mount and go his own way.

"Drizzt," Alustriel called. "Do come to the city soon?"

He looked at her, and the smile he gave her hit far differently than the ones of previous years.

"I have friends to find, and aid, but in time, Lady." He then swung up onto his accustomed spot on Orthae's back, and off they went. She had no reason to dally, yet she watched until she could not see him, wondering at the differences a little longer.

Sharr tried not to seem too stressed as he listened to Andy recounting the battle of Mithral Hall. He had known it was going to happen, had been informed of all the steps that led to the eventual reclamation, but he was still a concerned father, and Del had been there.

"In the end, dwarf loss was well under what we had expected because when the dragon was killed, the duergar fled for their lives. Drizzt had predicted that, and most of the clerics had agreed, but it was still strange to see.

"I guess I still don't understand peoples who are fully dominated by their gods," Andy finished.

"How did the dragon go down?" Sharr asked his eldest, knowing that Andy had taken full command of the wizards and clerics, having the most experience with leading.

"You might not want the answer to that, Dad," Andy said. "Because the final blow was not from a wizard."

"Named Ones preserve us. Still, I feel like I should know," Sharr told him, even as he leaned into Kor for support.

"We'd been hitting the thing with every light-based spell we had, but the duergar must have had a dedicated prayer regiment, reinforcing it through faith," Andy began. "Drizzt was tracking spells thrown, I learned later, and when he thought we were too far down, he ran up right in front of it and started firing alchemical arrows at its eyes and nose."

"Boy's got more spleen than brains," Kor growled.

"He wasn't trying to kill it?" Andy mentioned. "But he did make it track him perfectly in front of a ballista, keeping it so annoyed that the dragon didn't see the war machine." He had to grin then. "The bolt flew right up the dragon's throat as it was opening to blast Drizzt with its breath weapon."

"I take it back. That's brilliant," Kor said, amazed by such a daring tactic.

"So the dwarves got the kill after all, thanks to you boys and our ranger setting it up." Sharr shook his head. "Damn good tactics."

"Del went with Drizzt then, out of the main fighting, to make it to the dragon's den, to look for any gates it had kept. We'd agreed that with the ranger, and with most of the fighting being on the upper levels by that point, that it was a good task for him. He just had to protect Drizzt from the shades, and then call for Aunt Syluné once they did find the gate. That's been sealed.

"We stayed for a week after the fighting, cleaning things out, finding resources for the slaves that survived to learn freedom, and sealing off passages that led downward. They kept one of those open, with great gates."

Andy looked at both elder elves then, to field any questions.

"Did Drizzt head for Silverymoon by chance?" Sharr asked.

"No. He was going to explore out for a month in various directions from the one passage down, to see if the duergar had a city close by."

Sharr sighed. "Well, I suppose I'll just have to be patient, and get affairs here wrapped up to allow us to go up once he does appear."

"Dol thought you might; he said he can be here by the fall festival to take over until spring," Andy told him, so there was a definite date in place.

Chapter Seven

Deysa, Sharr's young pegasus friend, knew that Drizzt was in the city first, finding Orthae and cavorting with the stallion and the many aerial familiars of the city who remembered their friend from his younger days. Alustriel and Sharr discovered their ranger friend was back at evenfeast itself, as Drizzt arrived with a human on his arm, one that matched the descriptions given of the Princess of Mithral Hall.

Alustriel took in the protectiveness of their ranger, mixed with careful choices of letting the young human have her space and do her own talking. A few times, they heard Drizzt redirect questions for himself to Catti-brie, as the human was called. Sharr was appraising both of them, seeing that closeness with something inside himself twisting up. The intimacy of the girl — she might be apprentice-aged, in his eyes — and the ranger spoke of a deep bond, but what kind?

Had their ranger found his first spark of love in the frozen wastes of Icewind Dale? Why with a human if so? Sharr was actually half-relieved when Alustriel maneuvered to their table at one of the seating changes. Let her be the one to find out how badly this could fall out.

Drizzt smiled at Alustriel, then turned to Catti-brie. "You can guess this is Arch-Mage Alusriel Silverhand. And I am sure," he said, turning to Alustriel, "that you have heard stories of Catti-brie Battlehammer, daughter of Bruenor Battlehammer."

"I have heard, and I am grateful for the chance to meet you," Alustriel said. "I had sent word that I would like to meet with your father as well, at his convenience."

"Aye, Lady, and it was received. Me Da sent me tae talk with ye, as someone," and Catti-brie poked Drizzt in the ribs, "brought us trading partners a'fore we had goods fer trading."

"I acquired," Drizzt defended himself in good humor, "trade for gem stones and minerals needed in your smithing processes. As well as warning should a certain drow city ever mobilize."

"Aye, ye did, me ranger."

Alustriel was curious at the rapport between the pair, that affectionate 'me ranger' and the physical contact between them, but there was no good way to follow up on that in this setting. If Drizzt had found a relationship, she would advise Qilué to warn the father, as this was going to be a heartbreak in time.

She would just ignore the odd pangs in her own heart, as she knew good and well the ranger was a friend hat would not stay away solely to court a partner.

"Catti-brie was my first friend in the North, giving me warning against a yeti that was downwind, one neither I nor Orthae had spotted yet. She was kind enough to stick around until the battle was over, and talk with us both," Drizzt said. "And through her, I met and befriended her father — after a brief misunderstanding on my nature."

Catti-brie made an indelicate snort. "Orthae was near tae stompin' his head in if'n he didn't stop ranting about evil drow."

Drizzt chuckled. "He settled down once his memory caught up to what a pegasus means," he agreed. "And I was charged with keeping an eye on his 'bairn', to keep her out of trouble, and could I please teach her to use weapons, as she just wasn't getting enough muscle for a hammer or proper axe."

"Aye, so he did," Catti-brie said. "Learned a bit so far, but me ranger was sayin' as there are people here as can help me settle better with one sword?" She directed that at Alustriel, who nodded.

"Drizzt has been much missed by his Knightly friends, and I am certain one will be more than willing to help our neighbor's heiress improve her ability."

"That's good. Me ranger has said several times he knows how tae fight with one, but he's also certain he's teaching me a bit wrong, since he uses two hisself."

"I do know my weaknesses," Drizzt said. He took a bite of something, then pulled the same item off Catti-brie's plate. "You won't like that; tastes like fermented fish."

Catti-brie had begun to protest, then nodded. "Aye, donnae like the way that tastes. But ye have tae give up something off yer plate."

Drizzt waved at it. "Take as you wish, my friend."

Alustriel watched the give and take, growing ever more certain that their ranger would be a broken-hearted drow in less than a century, before directing her conversation to the others at this table. They would just have to be there for the man when time came.

"So what did you learn, heart's star?" Sharr asked, many hours later, lounging against Alustriel in her bed.

"She was his first friend in Icewind Dale, she is learning weaponry from him, and she calls him 'me ranger'." Alustriel sighed softly. "I would rather his lesson in love's hurts could have come later in life. Nothing for it but to support him now, and help him know he must take the joy as it comes."

"And then be there when the grief happens, yes," Sharr said, shaking his head. "The heart will as the heart wants." He felt a twisting, something he shoved aside for the sake of understanding the fullness of love's needs.

"So it will." She kissed his temple. "I remember that being one of your reasons for reluctance, and I never asked… had there been a shorter-lived love for you before me?"

"No." He smiled, lazing in her arms and thinking back. "I only ever dallied with elves, and loved my heart-brother before you."

"I was too busy learning my trades to do more than dally myself," Alustriel said, amused. "And contrary to Kor's firmly held belief, I did not set my eyes on ensnaring your heart. Not until I realized you'd captured mine."

"That proved to be a good mutual snaring," he said, before kissing her throat… and other parts he could reach.

Alustriel had chosen to have Catti-brie scheduled in the early part of the day, so she could be a little more informal. She told her secretary which reception room to set up for them, and came in her less formal robes over a simpler dress than her usual style. When the young woman — girl by some measures — came in, Alustriel smiled brightly, indicating the chair beside her.

"Come and sit, so we can talk comfortably."

"Thank ye, Lady." Catti-brie settled in the other chair, before peering at Alustriel intently. "Drizzt said ye have a head for meeting people where they need ye to. See as he was right as ever."

"Your friend has a knack for that himself," Alustriel praised. "When he lived here, learning to care for Orthae, he was very casual with those that preferred it, and formal as needed, especially to those who could not see him for who he truly was.

"Except with me," she added ruefully. "As easy as he managed to learn my consort's name, my sisters' names, with me, it was always 'Lady'."

Catti-brie laughed. "He tweaks me da from time tae time with 'Chieftain', or now it will be 'My King', but it's all a jest tae rile me da up."

"Ahh, that makes sense, given his sense of humor." Alustriel smiled for that. "Now, tell me what needs Mithral Hall has that we might aid with. My sons all have spoken of how the campaign went, but I know so little of your clan as it is now.

"I only briefly met your … great-grandfather, before the Hall fell. I was not ruling here at that time, but kept an eye on the region." She then sighed softly. "I was living far from here when the actual event occurred."

"So Ghael said," Catti-brie answered that. "As tae what needs we have, me da wishes tae negotiate for a wizard tae be on staff, while we work through the cursed items we keep turning up out of the hoard that dragon made. He's willing to trust any as ye say are worth it."

"Yet he has not met me," Alustriel said, curious at that.

"He's met yer sons, and called them a fine set of men. More, though, he trusts in me ranger's judgments. Drizzt has nothing but praise for ye, and yer way of seeing things."

Alustriel felt oddly touched, both by Drizzt's recommendation, and for this king who had apparently befriended the drow ranger so fully. "Perhaps, as my sons have already been there, we can work out a schedule between them, to suit your needs?"

"That would be wonderful. Me da would work out the wages with them, but it would be no less than what was paid for the taking of the Hall, plus component use."

Alustriel settled to work out the basic details, to be refined at a later time, gathering more of a feel for her new allies in the Frost Hills. One thing she was growing certain of was that this young woman, dwarf-raised and tempered by living in a harsh land, was of just the right caliber for Drizzt as a partner.

Kolarven was still lying on his back dramatically when Sharr made it to the training yard, while Korvallen was… trying his best to keep Drizzt at bay. The ranger had only improved in the years since he left, and Sharr kept an eye on it. The familiar smile and laughter in the spar was reassuring as the elf came to crouch near his nibling.

"Wore you out?"

"And then some," Kolarven said in a much put upon voice. "How does he keep finding new heights to reach in his skill?!"

Sharr chuckled, then looked more closely at the spar as Kor dropped to a knee. He sucked in a breath, but Drizzt had already backed off, his scimitars to the side.

"Damn it boy, but you got good." Kor slowly got himself up, shaking his head and Sharr breathed easier. "I don't know where you learned that last technique, but you're going to show me, and then we're coming up with a defense!"

"Of course! Likely not until I return next time, though," Drizzt said. "I wanted your aid with my own student, to teach her single sword techniques, and help me see where I made mistakes in teaching her so far."

Sharr was curious at 'student' rather than 'friend', but Drizzt often did outline things from the professional view with Kor.

"Be glad to. She might be a princess, but dwarves value their fighters in the nobles," Kor agreed. He then looked over at Sharr and Kol. "Kolarven, he only sparred you ten minutes."

"And he wore me out doing so!" Kolarven protested, before forcing themself to a sitting position. "Have you put gnomish springs in your boots, to jump all over like that?"

Drizzt threw his head back and laughed. "Giant-kind, my friend. And other things that towered over me up there."

"Ahh, well, that would do it." Kolarven then made a theatrical show of getting to their feet. "I should go and see if Mikhail needs a hand running squire drills, but it was very good to see, and spar, you again."

"I'm planning on returning for the winter, unless Bruenor or Belwar say otherwise," Drizzt told them. "So more spars ahead!"

Kolarven grinned, before vanishing on to duty. Sharr was contemplating that intent for the winter; he wouldn't voluntarily have left Alustriel's side early in their relationship for so long.

"Have another spar in you, my friend?" Sharr asked, cheerfully walking over as Kor ceded the training area. The look of pure joy on Drizzt's face was answer, and then per their old rules, the ranger faced him with a single blade. Kor called critique impartially to both of them… and Sharr found himself savoring the bliss that his young friend wore so openly on his features for a third spar of the day.

Kor stretched his right arm out, circled it at the shoulder, and nodded. Sharr put the jar of salve away, then dropped down beside him on the floor.

"I think you and Elué are reading the two of them wrong," Kor picked up from the discussion of helping teach the girl. "More like siblings than anything romantic."

"Oh?" Sharr asked, as Kor stretched out beside him. "And how did you come to pull that arm so badly?"

"Made the mistake of overextending and having to correct too fast," Kor admitted. "As to them, I can't put my finger on it other than siblings. Kolarven might have better words."

"I'll ask them later," Sharr said. "Learn anything else?"

"They'll be leaving in the morning, so Drizzt has time to go see his kin before full winter," Kor said. "And Drizzt has mentioned several times he means to come back for the winter. Kolarven and the rest of the Knights have been doing all they can to make sure he feels like he can."

"Well why wouldn't he?" Sharr asked, perplexed.

"Maybe because two people he respects greatly aren't quite as invested, by his way of thinking, in that idea?" Kor pointed out. "Did you offer to pick up any learning with him? Has Elué extended any mentions of lunches?"

"No, because…" Sharr cut himself off, looking at the whole situation anew. "He finally comes back after years' absence, and we changed our behavior to accommodate what we thought was a relationship of a romantic nature."

"Whereas even if it was, Sharr, you didn't let him participate in setting new boundaries at all."

"Damn it, when did you get to be the wise one?"

"Always was, heart's brother."

Orthae dropped Drizzt near the entrance of the Promenade, let his friend remove the straps, then nuzzled him a long moment.

"A moon's time, my friend. Is that enough for you?" Drizzt offered, leaning into the pegasus's chest and neck.

A nicker agreed with the time frame, before they parted and Orthae galloped off for his own pursuits. Drizzt turned back to the illusion that hid the portal and politely asked Eilistraee to let him see it. The illusion parted ways, and he moved toward it, calling up the song of his secondary goddess, to sing it open for his entry. The touch of divine magic he had learned to focus for this task answered the need, and he was soon passing through to the guard station.

"Ranger!" Sriva greeted. "We'd heard you should be coming, but didn't know when."

"Orthae had good winds for much of the trip," Drizzt said. "Anything I should know?"

"Your father's here, we have a handful of new refugees, all male, that he's helping. Umm, not much that should be shared before the meal, because births and partnerships should come from the family people."

"Of course, my friend!" Drizzt nodded to him, gave a jaunty half-salute to the other guard, and continued on his way. It would be good to live and breathe as a drow among others like himself, instead of trying to figure out what his future was shaped like.

Vierna hugged her brother first; she saw their father regularly through the year afer all, as he maintained complete neutrality between the two groups of drow living in such close proximity. It had even led to one joint battle so far, clearing out a raiding band of duergar that had infringed on the pathways both used to reach the Underdark.

"I didn't think you'd come over this quickly," she told him.

"Boy's even more restless than usual," Zak said gruffly, getting a half-hearted attempt at denial. "Still running?"

Drizzt let go of his sister and sighed. "I don't think I need to run any longer. I am pretty sure I outran it."

Vierna embraced Zak briefly, then eyed her wean-son intently. "What were we running from?"

"That's my business," Drizzt said, defensively enough that she dropped it. "Tell me how things have been? Father told me about the duergar; what's your opinion on how that happened?"

"Father did an excellent job of coordinating the effort for one," Vierna said. "And everyone remained polite in the face of a shared threat." She then went into more detail, and Drizzt asked questions, then told the detailed version of taking Mithral Hall back. Zaknafein had questions about that, even as he and Vierna traded comments by sign language when Drizzt wasn't looking their way.

"Do you know what it was?" Vierna asked in one such moment.

"Not really, but I think it is a person," Zak replied a bit later.

"I'll rend them," Vierna told him when Drizzt got up to pour himself some water.

"Not if I get there first," Zak promised.

It was fully winter by the time the Glade had their unique ranger back. Orthae was content, for now, to make use of the outer building near the cloister, investigating the companions of other rangers seeking shelter from the winter snows. Drizzt had paid his respects in the Glade through most of his first night and morning back, then gone to the Cloister and actually put his belongings in one of the rooms, opting to share with a human ranger who normally kept south of Everlund.

He did not seek out the Palace itself at all that first week he was back, reveling instead in the companionship of other rangers, and a lone druid, to exchange tales and tricks. In fact, if it had not been for missing the expert spars, he thought he would be quite content to merely learn, either from his peers or at the Vault of the Sages through the winter. He'd come to terms with banishing the feelings he'd held as juvenile fantasies, yet that was not the same as actually facing the people who'd engendered them with a firm call to professional friendship.

What he did not expect was for Sharrevaliir to come find him, as Drizzt was grooming Orthae. The elf quietly took up the second grooming tool there and joined him, letting Drizzt continue. The quiet suited Drizzt, even as he half-wondered why Sharr had come and what it meant that he was helping without intruding.

Once Orthae was absolutely satisfied with the effort, Drizzt moved to put his tools away, then looked at Sharr.

"What brings you all the way to us today?" he asked, keeping a polite tone before indicating they should walk over to the garden.

Sharr gave a slight frown, then took a deep breath. "I wanted to personally invite you to come and see us. Alustriel and I both would like to see you, to hear how things have been since you were here last. Kolarven and Korvallen both want to know if you learned new techniques."

Drizzt tipped his head. "I would eventually come over for sparring, and to pay respects. I've just been caught up with actually talking to other rangers."

"Is that all it was?" Sharr asked him seriously. "As we've been thinking that maybe we gave offense during your last visit."

That made Drizzt pause, tipping his head. "I was newly returned to the region, and there were many things to distract us all," he said at last, before finding a seat on the bench. Sharr took the other side, taking a long moment in silence.

"Alustriel and I both made a mistake. We were trying to be certain we did not infringe on the time you were sharing with Lady Battlehammer. But we did this without taking intto account that you should have been invited to your usual events with us… to let you choose."

"Forgive me, but I am very confused by your words," Drizzt old him after a very long pause to try and make that make sense.

"Which part?" Sharr asked, giving a wry smile.

"All of it?" Drizzt answered.

"Firstly, we thought you and Catti-brie were courting. Usually when young people court, they want time together. Especially with … well, you're an elf, she's a human."

Drizzt's eyes grew very wide, and then he shook his head vigorously. "I love Catti-brie with a large part of my heart, but courting is not something she or I would be interested in. Not with one another!" he exploded, aghast that anyone had thought that of them. "She is friend, and student, and … someone for me to care for. But… she can do far better than a wandering drow in her pursuits of the heart!"

"There aren't many people I can think of that would ever be better to or for a partner than you, Drizzt Do'Urden!" Sharr immediately rebutted the self-scorn he heard in those words.

Drizzt blinked at him, then took a deep breath in. He turned away, looking over the neatly resting garden plots, taking in how the winter crops were doing in the raised beds. He considered those words a long moment, but honestly didn't dare take them as personally as he wanted to.

"Drizzt?"

Sharr's voice was soft, worried, and Drizzt had to turn back to him.

"You are someone who could be a great partner to another. I don't want to hear you thinking otherwise."

"Perhaps, in a century or more, I might meet someone who can see me as such," Drizzt managed to say, not wanting to have this conversation any more than he wanted to keep yearning for the impossible. "I will come to see the Knights, tomorrow maybe, or the day after." He stood up abruptly, gave Sharr a curt nod, and returned to Orthae, not even bothering with straps, just letting his friend take him away from here to a wilder, colder place.

Korvallen and Kolarven coming to find Sharr in his study together was an ominous sign. Given it had been three days since the talk with Drizzt, Sharr hoped this was a clue to help him know what offense he had given, so he could mend it with his life-saver, his friend.

"What in the Abyss happened when you went to see the boy?" Kor asked, not even pretending at nice right now.

"Uncle…" Kolarven tried to soothe, only to get an irritable wave off.

"Tell me what happened? I take it he came today?"

Kolarven took that question. "He did. He showed up during advanced training with the Squires, worked through their maneuvers with them, even gave small pointers to the youngest ones. When they were dismissed, he asked politely for a spar from each of us — "

"And had no joy of it in either one," Kor growled. "He was doing it for exercise, not pleasure, and pushed us both harder than he usually does so he could fully exhaust himself."

"I don't think he had a true smile all morning," Kolarven said sadly.

"And you both feel it has to do with my visit?" Sharr asked neutrally, though he did agree, given the sudden departure the other day, without tack or even his gear other than his swords and cloak.

"He did not even stay for a meal," Kor told his heart-brother. "Went out through our door, never setting foot in the Palace proper. No meal, not going to study, no asking after you or Elué? It's not right, and I'm worried he's gotten something you said twisted up in his head now."

"I went and apologized for our mistaken belief he'd want more time with the girl, and called him out over saying she could do better than a wandering drow — said in that tone of his — and reiterated that he'd make a good partner with someone!" Sharr said. "He then… left. After saying he'd come to see the Knights.

"You were right, Kor, in that he's not romantic with the girl, but… I honestly don't know why he got so… distant and irritated!"

"Uncle, what did he say?" Kolarven asked, distressed by the morning, and by seeing Sharr's agitation.

"Something about maybe in a century or so, he'd find someone who could see him that way." Sharr shook his head. "In that… overly polite tone of his."

Kor dropped into the large chair opposite Sharr's desk, and Kolarven perched on the arm of it.

"I don't know," Kor said. "Something is eating him, and I will not be surprised if he doesn't leave for other places the next truly clear run of weather we get. He won't risk Orthae in a blizzard, after all. But he's not happy here. I've never seen him go into a spar with that level of seriousness."

"It's like he came home, but home's not here, and he doesn't know how to adapt," Kolarven mused. "But I'm uncertain what's missing, when you did apologize for the weirdness last visit."

"I just wish he'd come and talk it out," Sharr said, already flinching from the idea that his ranger might well choose not to stay here.

"Maybe it's something he doesn't have words for, Sharr. He's lived his entire life by the blade, surviving the wilds and making a better world for everyone but himself," Kor said. "That's a lonely life, I think."

"You're right, but how to work around whatever I fouled up?"

Chapter Eight

Alustriel decided that perhaps a gentle touch was needed to mend whatever the offense was that had pushed Drizzt away from them. She knew he often remained in the Glade after helping parcel out the evenfeast's leftovers, and made her way there a few nights after Korvallen and Kolarven had told Sharr about the terrible sparring session.

The Glade was quiet, all of the clerics and their aides gone to the Cloister… and she could not sense Guenhwyvar's figure at all. It was a very cool night, even with the city's protections, so maybe he'd gone back with them. She'd have to send a personal invitation the next morning.

Only, the page sent to be her messenger came back and slipped inside her reception room between appointments with a sad face.

"Saer Ranger Do'Urden has left for Mithral Hall, Lady," the page told her, handing back the note in its small case. Alustriel took it and then nodded.

"Thank you for running the message for me."

Once the page had left her, Alustriel considered for a very long moment, before reaching out to Syluné.

~Sister, would you be adverse to inviting Drizzt to come spend the rest of the winter with you? Things are awry, and you are soothing.~

~I would be glad to host him, and Orthae, for as long as he wishes to remain with me.~ Syluné paused a moment, then sent her own words. ~If either of your elves have managed to hurt his spirit, I will be harsh at both of them.~

~Sharr may have, but he doesn't know how or why. Please help sort it out,~ Alustriel replied to that.

She then focused on the next meeting of the day, trusting in her elder sister to be the right choice for investigating what happened.

The very fact that Syluné had been met with distrust at first in her offer made her very curious what had happened in Silverymoon. However, the lure of coming to learn more tinctures, salves, and other natural helaing had won Drizzt over. He did not even protest wearing the glamour ring he had been gifted, to ease going into cities that did not know the tale of the Drow Ranger yet.

Orthae was just as happy to have all of the Dalelands to explore, with its more temperate climate compared to the Silver Marches. Aumry, retired now from active leadership, was just as glad to see Drizzt as Syluné was, wanting to hear all of the ranger's tales in the North.

Alustriel, nor her city and consort, were mentioned at all that first month. Slowly, the ranger calmed away from whatever pain it was, taking pleasure in learning from Syluné and trading adventures. It helped that Dove and Florin stopped by, stayed a few days, so he had more ranger training from both of them. No doubt Storm would eventually come through as well, and that might further aid the unwinding.

Syluné ignored the occasional fishing comments from Alustriel during this time, all while observing the ranger. He was still so potently confident in the way he tackled life, and his joy in learning new ways to make medicines was infectious. It was only when he was working on a solitary task that she saw the edges of discontent, often when he was reading on one of the many subjects he was curious about.

Just past mid-winter, Syluné felt comfortable enough to broach the issue with him.

"What have you been planning since you defeated the crystal and helped your friends settle in their hall? You always seem tto have something ahead of you, after all, from the discussions I've had with my sisters about you."

She kept working on the needlework she had chosen as her winter project outside of teaching him, but noted he briefly scowled as he looked up from a history of the elven races.

"Wherever Mielikki sees fit to guide me, I think," he said. "I haven't felt a solid pull in any direction. My people near the coast seem to have matters well in hand, though of course I will keep visiting them. So perhaps I will explore more for Bruenor, to be certain of the expanse of the frost giants, the orcs, and others in the Frost Hills.

"Eventually, something or someone will need my assistance."

"I hear the Knights would love to have your aid once again, both in patrols and training," she said in an idle tone. She was watching out of the corner of her eye, saw a small flinch.

"I will lend aid to them as needed, should I see them out."

Syluné raised an eyebrow and actually lowered her needlework to peer at him. "Drizzt, was someone difficult with you in Silverymoon? Did someone make an advance or otherwise make you feel as if you should not be there?"

"No!" Drizzt instantly defended. "I have … reasons. I'm still gaining experience in he world, and sometimes things are not was I wish them to be. I felt a need to move on, rather than continue bumping into a problem I created."

Oh now that was interesting, and Syluné worked on filtering just what it might be, this problem he perceived when Alustriel had said Sharr was a fault, if with no understanding of why.

"I've found that when I thought I created a problem, if I talked it out, I often learned there was only a miscommunication," she offered. "Or I would ask for an outside view, and come to see it was even less than that, more a perception on my part."

"My perceptions are fine. It is others I am working against," he told her. "I is as it will be, my friend. I can move forward, grow stronger in who I am, and someday, perhaps, address the issue."

"Alright then," she said, resuming her work, mulling it over in her head for when she spoke to Alustriel later that night.

Syluné reached out earlier than normal, relieved that her sister wasn't occupied with her elf lord. ~I have, after several hours of consideration, come to the conclusion that our ranger fell for one of you.~

Alustriel's initial reply was flustered incoherence, before she sent more clearly. ~And Sharr was apologizing for us summarily breaking habit to give him space with Catti-brie, with words about being a worthy partner for someone!~

~I'd say he took the exact wrong path, but will grant it was likely on accident. So whichever one… needs to sort it out.~

They had to wait out the recharge then, and Syluné used the time to look out in the garden, seeing her young friend still lying upon her stone bench watching the night skies. How he endured the cold of winter — well, he had lived in Icewind Dale for a handful of years. Shadowdale was much warmer than that.

~Thank you, Syluné. We will try to make this right.~

Syluné let it go at that, and went to mull some cider for when Drizzt came inside.

Alustriel strolled through the city casually with her beloved's hand on her arm, taking in the first signs of waking up from the winter. "I have something to broach, now that spring is on the way.

"It pertains to Drizzt, and the reason he was so upset."

"I am all eears then, as I'd begun to think your sister couldn't unravel it," Sharr told her.

"Oh she did, just past mid-winter, but I have been considering my own reaction, and past encounters." She smiled down at him lovingly. "Drizzt, you see, has developed a strong attraction to one of us, that he has been mastering — except our reactions to him and the princess sent him absolutely in the wrong direction from being able to pursue it."

Sharr stared at her, then gave a relieved chuckle. "That should be much easier to fix, then. The question now, I suppose, is your feelings on the matter?"

"I could ask the same of you. I had noted something, and a reaction to it, when I met him at the conference to deal with that horrid crystal. I almost mentioned it then, but I wanted to see if it affected you first. Only, then he was here with the princess, and we did not have the usual free time activities with him.

"I still think we need to move very carefully in addressing this, based on what we know can happen to drow men," Alustriel said. "I wish to see if it can develop."

"I recall noting he seemed more confident, more aware of his ability and his purpose," Sharr mused. "Tie that to how competent he is, and it did make me wonder in certain paths, but I dismissed the idea entirely when I saw the connection with Catti-brie Battlehammer."

"You have good taste, and now, knowing that, but not which of us it is that draws him… shall we court a ranger, my love?"

"If he will allow it, yes, heart's star, we shall," Sharr agreed amiably, before they arrived at the party they were expected for.

Before Drizzt could leave from Shadowdale, Alustriel herself came to her sister's home, having left Methri and Andy to back Taern up. Sharr and Kor had gone with Del back to the village so Dol could tend to matters of his own, but Alustriel was not letting the chance escape them to put this all to rights.

It was still winter in Silverymoon, yet spring was around the corner there, and already present in Shadowdale.

She had timed her arrival for after Drizzt's vigil, but before his usual time to rest. He was in a loose clothing with no armor or weapons visible, his hair loose and not even pinned back behind his ears like usual. She had to admit that just on a purely shallow level, Drizzt Do'Urden was one of the more beautiful examples of his species.

Still, there was no reason to be shallow about it. He carried himself with sure confidence in all ways, and took in her arrival without betraying a single negative emotion.

"Lady," he greeted without rancor or anything but politeness.

He wore his manners like armor, she realized, having learned that it, more than responding to the world harshly, made people step back and rethink his presence.

"Drizzt," she said, using his name in her warmest tones to try and set the stage. "I know it's still cold in the North, but hoped you might be willing to come to Silverymoon to wait out the last few weeks of the winter? You are much missed, by myself and others."

He studied her for a long moment, then gestured toward the stone bench that had become his meditation spot through the winter.

"Please, come sit."

She followed him, turning her body toward him once she had. "I do need to apologize for mistaken beliefs last year. I did not mean to make actions based on assumptions that led to the misunderstanding we all had. The last thing we wished, Drizzt, was to cause you distress."

"Let me offer my own, on not actually communicating my … discomfort in a more direct method. As I see now it contributed to the misunderstanding."

She reached for his hand and was relieved when he offered his with only a brief hesitation. "Come home with me, Drizzt, and let us work on rebuilding our rapport?"

"Orthae is supposed to be coming in a few hours. I'd meant to go see Father and the others," he said, but it was with that sound of rearranging plans.

"I can take both of you back to Silverymoon, and in a few days, I would gladly go with you there, so you can visit and I can check on my sister?" she offered.

He lightly squeezed her fingers before nodding. "But first, breakfast with Syluné, and then I will get my things ready."

He started to pull his hand away, so he could stand, but she held it, making him focus intently on her.

"Why is she called by her name, but you insist on 'Lady' for me?"

Drizzt gave her a sincere smile. "Because it provokes you," he said simply, eyes lit with mischief. He left his hand in hers, standing, and pulled to help her up.

"You and your sense of humor, my ranger," she said in exasperation at him, before walking inside with him.

Zaknafein watched the woman that had brought Drizzt this time, seeing how much more relaxed his son was, and the way Drizzt watched the powerful wizard. All the pieces fell into place, and when Rylla took Drizzt to spar, he went to stand beside Qilué and her sister.

"A word, Silverhand," he began in a low voice, ignoring the sharp look from Qilué at him.

"Of course, Saer," Alustriel answered.

"My son feels very strongly about those who accept him." He met her eyes. "Don't abuse that."

The woman gave a warm smile. "I am glad he has those who worry over him. I think he and I are finding ourselves better now.

"I will not hurt him knowingly, and we are talking about the future more carefully."

Zak grunted, then turned to watch the sparring.

~I am sorry; he's exceptionally protective, and knows Drizzt experienced much harm in the past.~

Alustriel accepted that from her sister, watching the ranger that was falling back into easy rapport with her. ~It truly is a blessing to know the father would be so fierce as to challenge me.~

Once Sharr and Kor had returned, Alustriel braced for any further unpleasantness, but she found her worry needless. The renewed sparring was full of laughter and good-natured taunting, with Sharr and Kor praising the new things Drizzt had learned. On one of their late night conversations, Drizzt asked Sharr if he and Korvallen would go with him to deal with a problem to the east, a request that had only come in that very day.

It looked as if Drizzt was at peace with where they were with each other, despite there having been no overtures of more than the deepening of friendship. It made her thoughtful, but she would wait until the end of this adventure to gain Sharr's thoughts on the matter.

Then again, maybe it just needed the slow evolution of who they were, as Alustriel knew her consort and heart-brother had chosen a future that included the ranger as solidly as they had chosen each other.

Current Music: "Angel" - Sarah McLachlan

somariel

Dream Bonds, Drow Raids, and Family Ties (4073 words) by Somariel
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Alustriel Silverhand, Drizzt Do'Urden, Original Elf Character(s), Zaknafein Do'Urden, Vierna Do'Urden
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ensemble Cast, Soul Bond
Series: Part 20 of A Crossing of the Realms
Summary:

My brain dropped on me the idea of merging the fics "Dreaming of the Other" and "Prisoner of the Drow" and the fic series "Sisters in Spirit". This is the result.

Dream Bonds, Drow Raids, and Family Ties

While it wasn't unheard of for Korvallen to come to visit without warning, the agitation he was displaying was.

So rather than invite him to share her breakfast once Talira had let him into her rooms, Alustriel was more direct. "It's good to see you, Kor, but if you're looking for Sharr, he's up in the Moonwood right now, leading a patrol to investigate rumored sightings of drow."

That only seemed to increase his agitation, and when he spoke, she found out why.

"The rumors are true, because Sharr's been captured by drow."

Alustriel felt the blood drain from her face even as she made herself stand straighter. "Well then. His patrol wouldn't have been considered overdue for return until the morning after tomorrow, but given you must have found out through the dream-bond," and she paused just long enough for Kor to nod sharply before continuing, "then I will go talk to Taern immediately about sending a party to find the rest of the patrol.

"And I'll reach out to the family to start assembling a rescue party while I'm heading over to the Spell Tower."

Korvallen's agitation didn't ease completely, but his shoulders relaxed noticeably as he let out a small sigh.

"Thank you, Elué," he said.

Alustriel had not intended to sleep, not with Sharr in drow hands, but it seemed that her worry for him, helping with organizing the party to rescue him, and starting what was needed for seeing to the aftermath for the two elven villages that had also been destroyed by raids—including prevailing on Mena to go find out if it had been some of Spirit Sanctuary's residents who had been at the one that had clearly been disturbed by other people after the raid—was more tiring than she had expected, when it was piled on top of keeping up with her usual duties.

And so, two days after Sharr's patrol would have been considered overdue, with the rescue party having set off that morning, she found herself sinking into sleep, and then into dreams.

The first dream started out in the darkness she had expected, but before she had registered more than the sense of moving quickly, light flared, and she was able to see that her dream-bonded was engaged in a fight against drow.

He had killed two opponents—and done so so swiftly that despite her faint hopes, she knew this had to be her drow dream-bonded, not Sharr—when he suddenly lunged to one side, shoving someone else... out of the path of a magic missile, she saw, as he turned to face the wizard.

A huge panther moved between him and the wizard, snarling, but not attacking, and there was a stand-off that stretched out... until her dream-bonded threw a knife at the wizard.

The wizard ducked, and her dream-bonded vaulted over the cat, quickly ending the wizard, before retrieving something from the wizard's body.

Then the light faded away, and she could only sense careful steps, with her dream-bonded's hand on the shoulder of someone ahead of him.

But soon enough, they stopped, and blue faerie fire lit up a small cave, revealing that her dream-bonded had two other drow with him, one quite young—young enough to still have traces of baby fat, in fact—and one who was visibly mature.

The mature one's face was recognizable as one she had seen several times before, so she knew he must be from the same house as her dream-bonded, but the young one was entirely unfamiliar.

The young one appeared to be rather surprised by something when he looked at her dream-bonded, but he settled down fairly quickly to clean his own weapons.

After that, he cleaned her dream-bonded's weapon, and then, after a period of silence, said in Goblin—why was a drow using Goblin with another drow?—“Name Drizzt.

Her dream-bonded wrinkled his nose, and then she was utterly surprised. Because what he said—in Goblin, like the young drow had—was "Name Sharrevaliir. Small name Sharr."

The young drow—was he her drow dream-bonded, then?—grinned and pointed at Sharr, then spoke again. "Go up, send out. You leave. You live."

Sharr nodded, but looked between the young drow—Drizzt—and the older one. "You two live, after?"

Drizzt shrugged. "Try."

The older one growled a bit and added. "Will," in Goblin.

Drizzt looked at him, and then ducked his head, before nodding. "Will," he repeated.

And when Alustriel woke, she was certain that Drizzt was her drow dream-bonded.

Even though he knew it had to mean that Sharr had escaped, Korvallen was not entirely pleased by the dream he had had of his heart-brother in a small cave with two drow.

But before he had decided whether or not to say anything about it to the rest of the rescue party, Laeral, Dove, and his nephews all paused in their eating with the expression that indicated they were talking over Elué's anklets.

And when the expression cleared, Laeral said, in a quiet voice, "Alustriel says that her drow dream-bonded and one other drow are aiding Sharr in escaping."

Kor kept his sigh of annoyance entirely internal, hoping that if he stayed quiet, he would be ignored, but Thyl dashed that hope by turning to him.

"Can you tell us anything else, Uncle?"

Kor deliberately took another bite of his ration bar, but the patience with which the rest of the party waited out the chewing and swallowing was enough for him to relent and give some information.

"Him being Elué's drow dream-bonded explains why the young one did a double-take upon seeing Sharr's face under the light of faerie fire.

"His name is Drizzt, and they've given Sharr a sword."

With last night's dream through Kor's eyes placing the rescue party as having started down, Sharr knew he needed to tell Drizzt and Zaknafein that it was coming.

So after he accepted the food that the elder drow had given him, he quietly cleared his throat to get the attention of both of them.

And when they both turned to look at him, he said, in a low voice, "Kin party coming, to bring back to Surface."

That was not in any way anything Zak had expected to hear, but before he could say anything, Drizzt asked the question he would have. "How you know that?"

Sharr tilted his head in a thoughtful manner for a moment, then said, "Sleep, see through others' eyes."

Drizzt's eyes went wide at that, but Sharr wasn't done speaking. "Human mate gave party food, shelter, plans; heart-brother in kin party."

Drizzt's expression turned thoughtful at the first part of that, but before Zak could address his suspicions as to why, he needed more information. "Who coming, how many?" he asked.

"Sons, six." Sharr replied. "Mate's sisters, two. Heart-brother. Eilistraee cleric."

That last required Zak to exert iron control to not show his surprise at how easily Sharr spoke of one of the Dark Maiden's followers being in the rescue party, but he quickly stomped it down to focus on his son.

"Drizzt," he said, "have you been seeing through another's eyes in your dreams?" It was in Drow, which excluded Sharr, but he didn't want to have to take the time to wrestle with the concepts in Goblin, so that couldn't be helped.

Drizzt gave him a considering look, then nodded sharply.

Reverting back to Goblin, Zak asked, "Seen Sharr before, through other eyes?", remembering how surprised his son had been when Zak brought up his faerie fire and they first saw the elf's face in actual light.

"Yes."

Though he wasn't looking at Sharr, Zak could still sense the other man's double-take.

But he recovered quickly and asked, "Seen much or seen little?"

"Seen much," Drizzt replied.

"Know how other person look?"

"Hair silver, round eyes, female, think tall."

Sharr nodded as if he had expected that answer. "Alustriel. Human mate."

Zak narrowed his eyes at that, not liking the idea of Drizzt being dream-bonded to a human, nor that said human was a woman who already had a mate.

But this was also the second time Sharr had specified human mate, so he decided to ask the obvious question. "How many mates you have?"

"Human mate, elf mate, heart-brother mate," Sharr answered. And then he cut right to the heart of Zak's concerns. "Drizzt young. Drizzt control how things happen."

Zak wasn't entirely sure he believed that, but it was enough to settle his concerns for now. Drizzt, however, appeared to be bristling somewhat, and Zak wasn't sure why.

"Drizzt adult," his son said stubbornly.

Oh. Well, seeing how Sharr handled this would be interesting.

"Drizzt thirty, thirty-one, yes?" Sharr said.

"Thirty," Drizzt replied.

"Sharr and Alustriel youngest son almost fifty. Drizzt young."

And that seemed like an impossibility, from all Zak knew of humans, but they really needed to get moving, so he filed it as something to ask about later.

Remembering that the sigil she had seen in her dreams a few months ago had been identified by Vierna as being that of Vierna's own House, Alustriel had sent to Mena to inquire as to a good time for her to come and talk with Vierna.

Mena had sent back that an hour or so before dawn would be convenient, so Alustriel had taken the opportunity to sleep again before requesting a teleport visual from Mena.

And now, as she settled into a chair in Vierna's rooms, she was glad she had, because tonight's dreams had given her a name for the other drow with Sharr.

"So what is it that you wish to speak with me about?" Vierna asked, once she, Mena, and Alustriel were all seated.

"It appears that that my drow dream-bonded and one other drow—whom I recognize as a familiar face from my dreams—have freed Sharr and are aiding him in returning to the Surface."

Vierna's eyes widened in surprise at that news, but when she spoke, there was no trace of it in her voice. "I'd have expected such from your dream-bonded," she said, "but that another of the House is also helping has me... intrigued.

"Because the only member of it whom I would have even considered such a possibility for is the Weapon Master."

Alustriel nodded her understanding, then said, "Tonight's dream let me know that the drow who is not my dream-bonded is called Zaknafein."

"Then he is indeed the Weapon Master." Vierna took a moment to think things through, then continued. "Which leaves me suspecting that your dream-bonded may well be my full brother, as I have long believed the Weapon Master to be my father, and I simply cannot see him caring enough to help with such an escape unless the instigator was his son."

Chewing on her lip as she weighed matters, Vierna decided to go ahead and see if the other connection she now suspected did, in fact, exist.

"Have you seen what color your dream-bonded's eyes are?" she asked.

Alustriel blinked in surprise at the question, but answered it readily. "They're purple. Why do you ask?"

"The younger of the two survivors we found clearly had her survival deliberately hidden," Vierna began, "because although she was found completely covered in blood, her only actual injuries were a bruise and a scratch."

"And purple eyes feature strongly in her nightmares," Mena said, picking up the explanation. "So we think that whoever it was that hid her survival must have had such."

"I see." Alustriel hummed thoughtfully for a moment, then continued. "Then it might be best for us to give some consideration now to how to handle the first meeting between her and Drizzt.

"Given that I'm rather certain he's going to join the rescue party for the return to the Surface, but it would not be a good idea for any drow to openly come to Silverymoon until the outrage over the raids has cooled somewhat."

Laeral was in the lead currently, though Dove was not too far from her.

They came around a bend in the corridor, and Dove suddenly reached for her arm, making her stop.

A faint sound, ahead, not behind, repeated itself, and Laeral cast arcane eye to go in that direction.

She used it to go as far as it could, determining only the expected trio were in close vicinity, then conveyed the information and her plan via the sending anklets, knowing the boys would see her words relayed to the cleric and Kor via a regular sending.

And once she had a nod from Kor to indicate that he had been told, she gently scraped her foot across the floor of the tunnel.

Sharr and both drow startled at the sound, then after a brief discussion, the younger drow pulled something out of a pouch, set it down on the floor, and spoke a single word.

Dark mist gathered around whatever it was that the drow had set down, and then it coalesced into a panther twice the normal size.

The drow scooped up the figure—for that had to be what it was, despite the oddity of how it worked—and said something to the panther, after which it started moving in their direction.

~Summoned panther coming to investigate,~ Laeral warned via the anklets.

And then the panther rounded the slight curve that separated their party from Sharr's, and gave a quiet, but pleased sounding, mrowl.

Continuing forward, it came right up to her and butted its head up against her hand in a clear plea for scratches.

Laeral duly gave some, and then it flowed past her to beg the same from Dove.

Dove kept up the scratching for longer, but by her closed eyes and the expression on her face, she was using the time to communicate with it.

Eventually, Dove opened her eyes again, and the panther sat back on its haunches, then gave a quiet 'yip'.

"She's of astral origin," Dove said in a low voice, "and recognizes the two of us for what we are.

"She's also quite emphatic that her drow is a cub to be protected."

Andy's quiet "Her drow?" overlapped with Kor's strangled "Cub?!", but before either of their questions could be addressed, faint blue and purple light was visible around the curve, drawing everyone's attention, and then Sharr and the drow came around the curve.

Sharr was walking beside the rather young looking one, with the older one a few steps behind them, and both drow had faerie fire limning their hands, which they were holding out in front of them at about mid-chest level.

Upon actually seeing the rescue party, Sharr picked up his pace a bit, to actually get ahead of Drizzt, after pressing his hand down on the young drow's arm as a signal to not match his pace.

And just a few steps later, Kor did exactly what he had been expecting, and rushed over to embrace him tightly.

"Sharr," his heart-brother breathed, and Sharr returned the hug just as fiercely, feeling the same relief that that single word expressed.

"I'm here, Kor," he said. "I'm safely back with you."

Drizzt had not been sure why Sharr had indicated he should not pick up his own pace, but when the faerie rushed over to Sharr and embraced him, Drizzt realized that Sharr must have been expecting such, and had wanted to ensure Drizzt was far enough away to avoid reacting on instinct.

Turning his attention away from Sharr and the faerie that had to be Sharr's "heart-brother", Drizzt looked over the rest of the rescue party with an assessing eye.

The two tall women with pale hair had to be the "mate's sisters" Sharr had mentioned. One was in armor, with a sword on her belt and her hair in a braid—showing the rounded ears that marked her as a human—while the other was in wizard's robes, with her hair mostly loose.

The six faerie just as tall and pale-haired as the women had to be Sharr's sons, and Drizzt was intrigued to see that though all of them wore modified wizard's robes, they all also bore swords.

And their blunted eyes and ears had to be a sign that their mother was Sharr's human mate.

Finally, at the very back of the group, there was... another drow? A brief flash of confused fear went through him before he noticed the moons and swords worked into the robes the drow wore, and he remembered the explanation Zak had given about the drow who followed Lloth's goodly daughter.

And as further reassurance, he noted that the other drow was male, which Lloth would never allow any of Her clerics to be.

Bringing his attention back to the women, Drizzt caught theirs, and then, using the lessons Sharr had been giving him and Zak when they stopped to rest, said in careful Surface Common, "Name is Drizzt Do'Urden. Not speak much Common. Goblin is better."

Using Goblin, the one with the braid said, "Well met, Drizzt Do'Urden."

Then she repeated the greeting in Surface Common, and continued in the same language. " 'My' name is Dove Silverhand."

The very first word wasn't one that Sharr had taught them yet, but based on the firm tap Dove gave her chest as she said it, Drizzt thought it was a possessive.

"My name is Drizzt Do'Urden," he said, to test his guess.

"Yes." Dove was very pleased that Drizzt had correctly picked up the meaning of 'my', and decided to see how much more he could get from simple conversation.

So she pointed to Laeral, and said, "My sister is Laeral Silverhand."

Drizzt repeated 'sister' with a faint frown, then brightened and said the Goblin word for it.

"Yes," Dove said, smiling brightly.

Zaknafein had hung back a bit as Drizzt began speaking with the women, wanting to keep an eye on Sharr and the other faerie, but when the two of them broke their embrace and stepped back towards the rest of the rescue party, Zak moved forward as well.

"My name is Zaknafein Do'Urden," he said, once he was even with Drizzt.

Surprisingly, one of the tall faerie jerked on hearing his name, and although said faerie waved off the quiet question one of the others asked him, Zak noted the reaction as something to follow up on later.

After he finished his portion of food that night, Zak caught the attention of the tall faerie who had been introduced as "Thyl", then tilted his head towards the edge of the camp while mouthing "Talk?" in Goblin.

Thyl nodded in reply, and when he started to move towards an out of the way pocket in the walls of the cave their party had found to camp in, Zak did the same.

Soon enough, they were settled in the niche, and Zak spoke, in Surface Common. "Why you-" and he mimed the way Thyl had startled when Zak had introduced himself, "-at my name?"

"Spell for better Surface words?" Thyl replied—surprisingly enough, in Undercommon. "Not speak much of this; Drow and Goblin bad for this talk."

Zak thought things over for a moment, then nodded sharply.

And once Thyl had cast the spell, he got straight to the point. "I was surprised by your name because I had heard of you before all of this."

That was surprising to Zak, but he controlled his expression well enough to not betray it. "Oh?"

Thyl sighed and ran a hand over his hair before speaking again. "There are two permanent settlements of Eilistraeeans on the Surface.

"And the First Sister—the leader—of the nearer of them is named Vierna Do'Urden."

Zak couldn't help the shocked "What?!" that escaped him as joy warred with suspicion, but he at least managed to still keep it quiet enough to not carry.

"She knew the temple in your city would be a death sentence for her, so she left." Thyl gave a soft smile. "She eventually led a small band to the surface, and Spirit Sanctuary has been a home for drow, and others, ever since."

Having been forewarned of the impending arrivals, Vierna was on hand with Mena to meet Thyl when he teleported in with Zav'ren.

"It's good to see you both again," she said, once she could see them clearly. "Is there anything you feel I should know before Sharr's rescuers arrive?"

"The younger of them is only thirty," Rafi's son said, "for all that the Lolthites have counted him as an adult for most of a year."

Well then. Telling that to Ellifain would undoubtedly help in dealing with her trauma from the raid, once they got that far.

"Drizzt is also your full brother," Thyl said. "And Zaknafein has been told that you are the leader here, though it's clear that he doesn't fully believe it yet."

"I'd be surprised if he did," Vierna replied, remembering how cautious the Weapon Master had been when she was learning from him.

Then she nodded at Thyl, and a moment later, Lin arrived with her father and brother.

Stepping forward as soon as the teleport shimmer had faded, she said, "Zaknafein, Drizzt, welcome to Spirit Sanctuary."

And when she saw the two of them clearly, she was glad for the warning about Drizzt's youth, since it let her conceal her surprise on seeing that he still had traces of baby fat on his face.

But then her attention was drawn away from him when Zaknafein stepped towards her.

"You… you can't be anyone but my student," he said softly. "Daughter."

She smiled, eyes glistening a little at that immediate claim. "Father. My teacher." She offered her hands, and he took them, squeezing gently.

Drizzt had been just half a step behind Zak, so when her father released her hands, she turned to him. "And I am pleased to meet you, little brother.

"You did very well in managing to hide the child's survival, and she will have all the help she needs to recover from her experiences."

Drizzt's eyes widened significantly, and he gaped at her for a moment before stammering "You... you know about that?"

"I do," Vierna replied. "Those moon elves were followers of my Lady Eilistraee, and She asked for whatever aid we could manage.

"So the child was found quickly, and she and the one other survivor are being cared for by the dwarves that live here."

A tension that she had not truly noticed before lifted from Drizzt as she spoke, and when she finished, she found herself having to quickly reach out to support him as he wavered on his feet and tears started leaking from his eyes.

Carefully, she pulled him into a hug, and began rubbing her hand up and down his back as she would to comfort an overwhelmed child.

"Shh, shh," she soothed. "Everything's okay. She's safe and you're safe and everything is going to be okay."

For all that she and Sharr were comfortably curled up together in her bed, Alustriel found herself unable to fully set aside her thoughts.

So with a purely internal sigh, she shifted to where she could see Sharr's face, and said, "What were your impressions of my other dream-bonded, love?"

"He's good," Sharr replied, without even having to think about it. "To a rather startling degree for someone who managed to survive a full thirty years in Menzoberranzan."

Turning to better face her, he added, "And given what you've told me about the child he saved, I think that even if I hadn't been captured, he would have ended up leaving fairly soon anyway."

"And his father?"

"Very firmly neutral—and I had that impression even before learning he's also Vierna's father, though that did add weight to the impression, to know he'd survived that city for so long—but fiercely devoted to his children."

"Mmm." Alustriel shifted to steal a kiss from Sharr, then rested her head on his shoulder. "And I think his children return that devotion, given how Vierna spoke of him."

"I have to agree with that," Sharr said. "Drizzt was very tense when he first appeared, but after what sounded like a brief argument—that I now think might have been over how Drizzt could help an adult faerie, after he'd killed a child—he relaxed and gave leadership to Zaknafein."

senmut

The Ghost and His Daughter (5233 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: Zaknafein Do'Urden, Vierna Do'Urden, Drizzt Do'Urden
Additional Tags: Minor Character Death, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ensemble Cast, Attempted Fratricide, Accidental Fratricide
Summary:

Vierna decides to make her play for escape against the patrol heading up for the raid on the faerie village. She will save both men that matter to her.

The Ghost and His Daughter

Vierna strode into the gymnasium, bold and self-assured in her command to the couple of fighters present to get out. Neither was sharp enough to notice her whip was not on her belt, but hastened to obey her. She caught the briefest glower on the Weapon Master's face before he mastered his expression, but that was not so unusual in recent years.

"We need to talk," her hands said, but her mouth had other words. "Weapon Master, escort me. Your view of the Houses above us is demanded."

He inclined his head, sealing his piwafwi to do as bid. Nor did he speak as they walked out of the House, to go on this scouting mission.

"Drizzt's patrol will be going to the surface after their next return," Vierna informed the Weapon Master in a calm, less domineering tone than she had used earlier, once they were well outside the House defenses. Her hands finished the rest of it when Zaknafein looked at her, careful to keep them where only he should see them. "It will not go well for him, as he is unchanged."

Was that truly shock? The man hid the initial reaction so fast that she could not be certain.

"I am certain he will find his way to be a credit to himself, from all I have heard," Zak said aloud. "You tell me this why?" his hands added to the conversation, just as careful on his placement.

"I am just as certain that he will behave exactly as he feels he should in such an undertaking," Vierna commented, her hands adding, "in hopes of saving him, you, and I."

The man's eyes narrowed, before he guided her up, by levitation for their supposed mission. "So it will be, then," he said aloud, and dropped that matter, leaving her wondering just what would happen from him when the time came. "I think the suspicions of a higher House are accurate," he added, to actually fulfill their mission in coming out. "I'll show you the routes most likely to be a vector of possibilities from them."

The note was in the raised script, and Vierna's fingers swiftly read the message in it.

Convince Matron you have a plan the day they leave; meet me above the House.

It could be a trap. She ran a risk just existing here, and was still angry she'd been thwarted in escaping during the graduation. She decided the Weapon Master's actions in the past, the way he acted toward her through her life, made it unlikely.

She could, almost, see the shape of his intentions even. No one would dare make a move while a raid was in progress; that was meant to have Lloth's sole attention in many ways. But that didn't mean Houses would stop spying and potentially laying in wait for individual members to kidnap or kill.

It was a very Llothite thing to do, and would give them time to get ahead of the patrol, as Vierna knew which path up they meant to use.

Of course, it could be a trap, she reminded herself, and she would need to pay attention to how Malice took her maneuvering. Or, more likely, Briza, though she knew good and well that the hatred between the eldest daughter and their Weapon Master ran deeper than any other in the House. So yes, paying attention to Malice's reactions were the smart way to go when she did this.

Malice was sitting in her chair on the dais and Vierna really noticed how small the woman looked, despite the vibrant energy of her eyes darting from one daughter to another.

"No one will suspect us of taking a risk with both sons out of the House," Vierna reasoned. "We know the threat is from above. The Weapon Master has protected the House interests for centuries. I will go with him, we will see to laying a few latent spells, and once our brothers come back victorious, they will be waiting for you to activate, Mother."

Laying into the family title was a risk, but today… it seemed to be the right note for Malice to actually consider it.

"And if the upper House we still have not identified is already plotting their own traps?" Briza hissed. Vierna started to reply, but Malice held her hand up to cut it off.

"Vierna is correct. Go. Take him, and lay the lines of our web. We will ask the question of which House when my sons return, as suggested." She then pinned Vierna with her piercing gaze. "Do not be seen. He will be invisible to most, so you are the weaker point here!"

Vierna smiled with all of her teeth bared. "No one will know where I pass."

She strode out on that note, ignoring the indrawn breath from Briza, and the gasp from Maya. Her mother's laughter said she had measured the woman perfectly; Malice wanted action and results, not questioning.

Those results, Vierna vowed in the protections of her mind, would not be to Malice's liking at all.

Above the House could only mean the access tunnel that was cut there, and Vierna concentrated on two spells at once, having decided that would be best to mask their true intent. One spell was an illusion of herself and Zaknafein moving away from the House until a point where even the best of their watchers could not see 'them'. The other was a variation of her mind protections, keeping the idle plotting thoughts, especially about House liabilities, at the front of her awareness.

She knew how long Malice could usually manage the mental spying the Matron employed so freely, and was still maintaining pretenses on that one when the Weapon Master emerged from the tunnel's shadows. She held a hand up to keep him quiet, moving her robes aside after that to show she had no whip but she did have a pack. He nodded, then reached up to where his House amulet rested in his neck purse. She nodded; that was a good precaution and saw to removing hers.

A warming at her hip, one she usually could not feel so easily, told her when it was safe to drop the mental chatter. She then decided that pulling that source of warmth out might be the quickest way to solve just how far the alliance with the Weapon Master went. Her true holy symbol, the mask that had been given to her in the privacy of the gathering cavern away from the House by a shadow-spirit of her true god, came up to her face in the next moment, and Zak's face showed the shock of the revelation.

That his posture changed, becoming less suspicious, made her certain that he truly was the male her god had suggested as ally so long ago.

"I'd wondered," he signed at her, but she had one last spell to cast. Vhaeraun answered it willing, and creeping shadow tendrils snaked around the pair of removed amulets, making them vanish from the tunnel completely.

"I would have loved to give you a chance to kill the whip, but I felt it might sense the treachery too quickly," she finally said as the mask vanished back into the pouch. "I know the route they were to take. I hope you know how this one connects to it."

"I have many questions for you, but show me their path instead," Zaknafein told her.

It was on their third day that Zak broached his ideas.

"We don't want them pinpointing us as what happened."

"I can't indiscriminately kill other drow," Vierna told him in turn. "Every murder I have had to do in the name of that spider weighs on me; it is not what my god chooses."

"I serve no god," Zaknafein said. "And His inclinations certainly didn't save the bulk of my generation when the hearsay of His worship was found out," he added in a bitter tone. "The only reason I tolerate Him more is because He saved you from becoming all I hate."

Vierna flinched at his first words, then lifted her chin. "That matters to you. And it was your interest in me, as a child, that drew Him to protect me and offer me a better way. Tell me; are you my sire?"

Zaknafein inclined his head to her. "I argued with Malice over your raising, was demoted from patron for it. I think it actually relieved her to do so, over an internal matter, before my death could be demanded." He chuckled softly. "We… were not always as you have most often seen us."

She drew in a deep breath, hating that city, the way it tore apart all of the finer emotions that could exist. She'd dreamed of her god's cities, heard the laughter of drow that lived fully, instead of scheming always.

"An alternative path, then, Father." She smiled as she used the word so seldom heard from noble voices. "Harass them. I can pray for stunning and disorienting spells, in one of the areas with side tunnels. More of the males will live that way… if they have skill to survive past the initial spells.

"The cleric, however, is a legitimate target, even under my restrictions, being a zealot of the spider."

Zaknafein considered, then nodded. "Very well, Daughter. I know how to strike fear without killing."

The first fighter to go missing, with the guard for that shift not having seen anything was unnerving. The cleric with them could not figure it out anymore than Dinin could… and Drizzt had been far forward from where the fighter had been.

The second one vanished on the move, while Drizzt was scouting the route the cleric had told him to check for traps and monsters. After he got back, Dinin put him on the rear guard, trusting his strange brother to be aware enough to at least alert them instead of vanishing silently.

That hope was dashed, when the next rest break found them down to just ten fighters, himself, and the cleric.

"We have to turn back," Dinin said without thinking. The whip struck him in the next moment, as the cleric grew enraged by his blasphemy.

"We are on a hunt for faerie blood for our goddess! Do not dare gainsay that path over the disappearance mere males!"

Dinin did not snarl at her, but he did not provide any reinforcement of where she walked either.

Despite double guards at the next rest, when time to move came, the priestess was still on her bedroll, looking as if asleep until one of the others went over… and realized it was not her robes shielding her body heat from their eyes.

"Throat, dagger…" was all that man got out before looking at Dinin with terror in every line of his face.

"Right in the middle of us? We go back," Dinin snapped. "Tight formation, I want everyone able to hear the breath of the man behind him."

They hastened to do just that, leaving the cleric's body to scavengers in interest of making fast time back to Menzoberranzan. Obviously the faerie were employing demons to block this passages to them!

"We wouldn't be having to hunt him if you had managed to land that stun correctly," Zak signed after realizing they had been led the wrong way.

"I didn't know he was this damned skilled, and had no idea he would resist it that strongly!" she signed back, a little angry that her wean-son, her little brother, was potentially making it back to the patrol.

"Talk in his mind then!"

She did not lose her temper at her father, but only by falling into a breathing pattern to calm herself down. He recognized her frustration at the sound of it, and moved closer, hands to both of her shoulders, and leaning his forehead against hers. He kept his ears and skin attuned to the world around them, but offered that silent apology.

"I cannot send to him or scry him," she admitted.

"We'll find him," he signed, once they were both calmer, and she nodded. They had to, or everything was for nothing. "Don't use a spell on him. Seek his swords, or his amulet."

Her eyes widened, and then she smiled. "That should work."

Dinin, having managed to convince his mother — Matron — to intercede on his behalf, mostly because he had managed to bring the rest of them back safely, was doing his damnedest to heal from Briza's beating for leaving the cleric's body. His pride was wounded, his body sore, and there was still a threat hanging on the House.

He threw himself into checking the defenses, not asking about the missing Weapon Master. That was what had gotten him beaten by his eldest sister. He never got around to asking about the next one in line, not even from his own sister who seemed to be more nervous than usual.

Maybe luck was turning in his favor, as he made out the wizard trying to spy on their House, saw the motion of the body and it etched into his mind as wrong. He'd met the Faceless One, knew that had to have been the Faceless One from the oddity of the glimpse of the wizard's head… and yet he moved entirely wrong to Dinin's memory.

A smile lit his features, briefly, as he hastened to go tell his mot — Matron what he now suspected. Perhaps they could yet salvage this entire mess around them.

Zaknafein actually ran a hand over his hair in frustration, and Vierna had to smile, seeing her own habit.

"We're getting too close to the city, Vierna."

"I know, Father," she answered, reaching out to rest a hand on his shoulder.

He accepted it for a moment before suddenly spinning, and his swords were in his hands. Her own maces followed a heartbeat later, before she made out the faintest whisper of purple in he shadows ahead and above them.

"Drizzt," she called, keeping her voice as calm as she knew how despite the long chase he had led them on. "Please come talk to us."

Was it her tone or the use of the 'please' that had worked? Zaknafein watched the vague impression of motion, could not hear the sound of landing, and then the boy opened his eyes fully, so he could actually see where his son truly was. Clearly he was made for the wild spaces, if he was this good so young at hiding!

"Why did you attack the patrol? Why did you kill the cleric? I found her body, but Dinin moved them too fast for me to find them."

So he had circled back to the last known spot once the confusion of the half-landed stun wore off. How in the Abyss had he evaded them both like that?

"Will you come with us, away from this tunnel? The city is too close." Vierna opened her robes fully. "I am not, have never been, a true priestess of the Spider there, and I want to keep you and our father safe."

Drizzt's head tipped to the side, before he beckoned, showing his back to them and taking point.

"You called me father, twice," Zak signed to Vierna. "That must have been why he ended the chase."

"I see."

Malice was all but crowing with her delight on how swiftly they had been able to cut out both wizards from House Hun'ett, and to find that one of them was actually a DeVir. SiNaFay was now under dishonor as well, for not having followed full custom to kill the male for murdering her own son.

"Dinin, use that creature you mentioned, take a squadron, and find your traitor sister. Maya, accompany him.

"We will regain Lloth's favor when we kill the heretic."

"Yes, Matron," the siblings said swiftly.

Convincing Drizzt of intentions had taken less arguing than Vierna expected. Zaknafein and he had a silent conversation in sign, where she could not see their hands, and when Drizzt hugged the elder drow, she felt her spine relax. Drizzt coming back to her, and kneeling in front of where she sat was unexpected. Then she saw the mischief on his face, and she wondered what he was up to.

"Vehna," he began, slurring her name as he had when he was just learning to talk, "we have peace, yes? No more of what that city made you do?"

She could not help it; she reached out and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight.

"My brother. My wean-son. I hated what I had to do to you, but oh you did not make it easy for me to hide what I was! Or keep us both alive!"

He wrapped his arms around her in turn, and squeezed, letting him feel how strong he truly was in a reassuring hug. "Peace, then."

"Peace."

Just two sleeps after the small family had turned their direction away from Menzoberranzan, Zaknafein realized they were being hunted. He began looking for a suitable place to make it a fight, as they could not possibly keep evading a party all the way to safety —

— especially as they had no idea where safety would be.

"Drizzt."

His son didn't even turn. "I know," was signed back with hastily warmed hands, and Zak felt a swelling of pride all over again. The boy was made for the tunnels, for places not inside the walls of a House, apparently. A glance to Vierna, a quick sign for danger, and the trio were all alert to the potential threats and benefits of the areas they passed through.

Dinin signed for the squadron to stand in place, making certain that Maya was truly hidden from perceptions. He then looked at the giant cat that was the main reason they had picked up the trail. He knew that it had a strange connection to his brother, and was all but certain that Drizzt was with the two he was hunting.

"Guenhwyvar, go home." he hissed the command as quietly as possible, and her ears flattened, making him more convinced about Drizzt's presence. Once she was gone, Dinin had his current scout go forward, then had the rest go in behind, bringing up the rear. His sister better be fast with her spells to take out the renegade, he swore inside his mind, not really wanting to dwell on having to face the two fighters.

Zaknafein waited, counting the full squadron out. He was unsurprised that Dinin was bringing up the rear, but he was concerned that there was no visible priestess. He had to trust in Vierna to be protecting herself from the likely divine attack aimed for her. He didn't look for where Drizzt was —

— and then the boy dropped into full view, right between three separate fighters.

"You should all leave," Drizzt said, flaring his faerie fire around his hands and swords.

The boy had a flair for theatrics, and Zaknafein moved in silence, understanding exactly what Drizzt was doing. He was drawing eyes, throwing new light out there to force attention his way. Vierna had likely moved under that cover as well. None of the fighters Drizzt had chosen as his target cover could hope to touch him, and when they did attempt their attacks, Drizzt fouled them up immediately.

Zak kept holding back, watching his beautiful dancer move with grace and speed to cause the squadron as much chaos as possible, slapping them with the flats of his blades, drawing blood in thin lines. It was obvious he was not actually trying to kill them, making Zaknafein slightly exasperated by him — and marvel he could still be that way. Most of his mind, though, was trying to find where the cleric had to be. Was it Briza or Maya? Was it one of the lesser cousins?

He finally decided he had to intervene as two fighters started angling to get behind Drizzt while another pair did their best to tangle his swords. His first kill was before his feet actually touched the ground, and his presence changed the field entirely. Four fighters focused on him, three stayed on Drizzt with one of those being Dinin.

Maya had waited until the fight was fully engaged, then carefully slipped into the battleground. She honestly did not expect any of the fighters to survive this, maybe not even Dinin, but as long as Vierna died, it would be worth it. Lloth's Web cloaked her completely, a protection that would fail on her first attack, so it had to be calculated perfectly.

She had her whip ready, the venom enhanced for this hunt as part of the rituals Mother had performed over her and her weaponry. As soon as the heads landed on the heretic, she would move in with her mace while the poison pumped in. It would have been good to bring her back for a proper sacrifice, yet the Weapon Master's presence precluded that.

She finally eliminated all the likely hiding places by following the fighters, and aimed for where Vierna had to be —

Drizzt had agreed with the logic of Vierna only joining the battle if absolutely necessary. He did not actually want to kill these fighters, going for injuries that would disable. He was focused on that, and only half-caught a flicker of pressure against his skin. With a very rapid shove of one of his opponents blades off of his left blade, he spun, right sword striking out in a lunge.

It was a stronger strike than he'd been using against the fighters, driven by instinct, because the pressure shift was between himself and where Vierna was.

Vierna had been holding herself in reserve, just as aware as her father that a cleric had to be present. Keeping track of where everyone was, eliminating possibilities for where the cleric had to be, Vierna was certain she was going to come under attack from a specific vector, and had shifted to be smaller in her concealment.

The snapping fangs of a high priestess's whip barely missed her as the heat of a full body almost in her space registered. The blood flowing out of a massive wound made it clear the body was not an issue, and she used the banishment she had prayed for against the whip to eliminate it from the battle. Her eyes went beyond the cleric — Maya, she noted dispassionately — to see horror written all over Drizzt's face.

She jumped forward to protect his back, her maces tasting blood swiftly. Drizzt had stunned one fighter, she had killed the second on her second blow. That left Dinin.

Dinin had seconds in which to choose his fate. Maya becoming fully visible, dying or dead, and Vierna protecting their strange brother, as well as the sounds of death behind him all said he should give it his all now.

Drizzt was dropping to his knees beside Maya. Vierna's maces were in motion —

— Dinin dropped his sword and knife both, crossing his arms over his chest in surrender, calling out one word. "Brother!"

Drizzt looked, and answered the half-plea. "Don't. Don't kill him." His voice was very hoarse, gravel-ridden by his emotions.

"Are you — " Vierna made a choked off noise, and reversed her motion. "Kick them away," she told Dinin.

He obeyed, then knelt, keeping his hands on opposite shoulders the whole time.

He was the last survivor of those he had brought, and he fixed his eyes not on Vierna, but on Drizzt, who was gently straightening Maya's body. What even was the strange brother that had only lived because of him?

Dinin rather thought his own future hinged on that strangeness.

Zaknafein had never had reason to be fond of Dinin. He could tell there was no great emotion between Vierna and the fighter. Even Drizzt, who had been the deciding factor, seemed distant to him. They'd made Dinin leave his House amulet behind, and gathered everything that might be usable from all of the bodies but Maya's. Drizzt was a silent shadow in their midst, and Zak really wished he knew how to reach past whatever this was.

He just didn't understand it enough to even try.

They had traveled a long distance from the killing ground, but were now holed up in a defensible spot. Zak kept his attention mostly on Dinin. With luck, Malice would try for Maya's mind, not find her, and presume Dinin had to be dead as well. He didn't have a second artifact to put the fighter under non-detection like he wore. The fact that Vierna could never reach Drizzt's mind made him hopeful that applied to Malice as well.

They would get to the nearest city, and Zak would give Dinin a chance by pointing him at Bregan D'aerthe, as he thought Jarlaxle's people were the safest bet for the fighter to survive.

He wasn't sure why that mattered, even, except that his son was hurting, and wanted Dinin to live.

Dinin stretched his legs out, having purposefully sat beside Drizzt in this rest.

"She hated you, you know?" he finally said. "I was useful. You weren't."

Drizzt nodded, turning to see his brother, his patrol leader. "She was still our sister. And … I did not wish to kill any drow. Especially my sister."

"I don't understand that, or you. You know that, given that you are here now because of me." Dinin shrugged. "You paid that back by not letting Vierna kill me."

"She doesn't want to kill drow. She's taking us to a place where drow lives aren't sacrificed so quickly," Drizzt said. "I don't know if you can learn that."

Dinin was turning the concept over in his head, and then he felt as if his brother had slapped him. Anger came first, but he remembered that odd feeling, watching Drizzt be gentle with Maya's body. Whatever his brother was, it was not true drow. But the idea of a place where his life might not hinge on keeping the clerics happy… that felt like an offer to adapt, to change so he could be free.

Did he even know how to be free? His life had always been on the sufferance of sisters and his mother.

"Convince her to take me there," Dinin found himself saying. "Let me start over and try."

Drizzt searched his face, considering. Dinin then pulled out the cat figurine, holding it out to him. "Here, a bribe to buy your help," Dinin told him with enough humor in the tone that Drizzt actually smiled, just a little. His hands were shaky as he took the figurine, Dinin noticed.

"Thank you for not making her fight," Drizzt said, and Dinin wasn't sure how to handle that. He thought about showing his reasoning why he hadn't, but that might be the wrong words.

"Just thank me by giving me a chance to get as far from Malice Do'Urden as possible, to figure out what I can do," Dinin said instead, and found he truly meant it.

"I will."

Vierna paid close attention to the reasoning Drizzt used. She even had to admit that sparing Dinin had likely increased her worth in her god's eyes. She just wasn't certain of the rest of it, and tended to agree with their father they should dump him off on the all-male mercenary band.

"What if he betrays us?" Vierna then asked her brother silently. He met her eyes, squared his jaw, and answered.

"Then I take responsibility. In whatever form that must be."

She noted the pain etched into his features as he said it. She didn't understand his psychic wounds any more than their father did, but was letting it go, hoping Drizzt would bounce back from it as they journeyed.

"I will tell Father."

Drizzt nodded to that, then went to ready for another day on forward position, where he was most comfortable. Their father was the better fighter, but he had found a deep affinity for understanding the dangers and possibilities of the wilds they traveled through. Vierna had added that to the list of his strangenesses.

He seemed to be a well-spring of them.

A stop in Mantol-Derith allowed them to trade for new gear for both Dinin and Drizzt, though Drizzt refused to part with his swords. They had none of the specific curve he preferred, and Zak agreed he should have what he was most familiar with.

Dinin took his brother to a tavern while they were there as an attempt to actually get to know the younger man. Zaknafein had misgivings over it, but Dinin didn't dare try treachery where he had no allies. And Zak needed time to speak to Jarlaxle's people here. Vierna also had an errand of her own, seeking the small enclave of Vhaeraun, to be able to make offerings and ask questions.

When the family of four met up again, Drizzt was actually smiling, Dinin was mildly intoxicated and laughing at something, while Vierna was more thoughtful than usual.

"I take it you two enjoyed yourself?" Zak asked the younger pair.

"Your son won me a lot of coin," Dinin announced, before laughing some more.

Drizzt grinned brightly. "They made me take a drink, then added a coin to the stack I would flip after each one. Father, I flipped twelve!"

"At which point no one would add money to the pile," Dinin finished. "And somehow, he's still soberer than me."

Vierna gave a small smile at that, having used Drizzt's childhood to discreetly increase his tolerance of intoxicants and poisons alike, under her watchful eye. Drizzt just shrugged, unknowing of why he could resist, but glad to have made Dinin happy, and share a good thing with him.

"Rilauven is where we were originally going to go," Vierna told the men of her life. "Now, it is to only be a stopping point, because of Drizzt."

That made all three pay attention to her, and Dinin did his best to will himself sober.

"Why?" Zak asked flatly.

"A task suited to my abilities is open, in a space where little brother's stranger ways will not attract so much attention," she said. "As my Lord is uneasy about the fact he stands outside of the spells granted to me, unless I make extra effort."

Drizzt frowned. "But… like Father, I don't care to be caught up in gods' doings, yet I am loyal to you."

She nodded. "He knows this. But not all drow are as Father and I, or as Dinin. You, He has made me see, may have a different road in time, and this place He has chosen for us will let that be a possibility."

"Do you have a name of this place?" Zak asked. "Fre'nzel needs to know, for when Jarlaxle gets the information I asked for."

"We will go from Rilauven by portals to a place called Skullport, above the faerzress but still below ground."

They all took in that information and slowly nodded.

"I suggest we sleep, then, and start out soon after," Zak said. "I'll run my message now, and return."

"Be safe, Father." Vierna then looked at her brothers. "Come on, both of you. It might be our last chance for a bath and a bed for a long while."

senmut

Dreaming of the Other (4084 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, Vierna Do'Urden, Zaknafein Do'Urden, Laeral Silverhand
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Soul Bond, Age Difference, Power Imbalance
Summary:

Soul-connections are revealed by looking through the other's eyes.

Dreaming of the Other

Alustriel Silverhand did not need to sleep. Under pressure of time constraints and trying to fulfill her personal and divine mandates, she did not indulge in it often. Yet, from time to time, even she wished to let go of the world for a short time, and find rest for body and spirit alike.

This night, having spoken to all of her sisters, each one being of so careful of her fragile emotions, was one such night. She closed her eyes, willed herself to push away from the connection to her lost elf-lord, and let her rest go deep enough to dream.

The dream began oddly, cloaked in sheer darkness, but the feeling of being held by an arm that was slightly cooler than she was accustomed to. The pressure shifted, and then there was a massive flare of light, a light that blurred to her sight, but was tracked as it was brought closer. The light blotted out all other things, as if the eyes seeing it were fixated despite a sense of discomfort.

When the light, a candle she believed, was snuffed out, there was nothing but darkness and that pressure of being held, until even that faded away. The strange dream-sense remained with Alustriel into her waking moments, and all of her grief for her consort welled up at the realization that somewhere, somehow, a new chance for unity awaited her already.

"Live well, wherever you are, and I will try to be ready when you find me," she whispered into the quiet of her room before setting to her day.

Through the next couple of decades, Alustriel found herself experiencing dreams that were often merely pressure or sound around her. The utter blackness of the dreams was surely a product of the Underdark, as dreamers could only see in their natural environments. The sound of language spoken was foreign —

— and the number of times she woke with phantom pain, remembering her potential bond-mate made no sound of their own as they endured, absolutely left her raging.

Was this how Sharrevaliir had felt, dreaming of the breaking of her first family? Or when she had been accosted, just before her magic flared to true life? To know that there was a person suffering, one that would matter to her, and she could do nothing for them was maddening.

It also gave a key to what species he might be, though she would bide her time. Good drow did happen, she knew — but so few of them survived to make an escape.

It was his last night sleeping in his own bed, and Drizzt Do'Urden was not enjoying the rest. His mind had been tumultuous for days, between his most recent fights with the Weapon Master (had that really been a death match? Why had the man stopped? And had he really needed the broken jaw in the one before that?) and then the aftermath of the House punishment.

Now, even his sleep brought pain, as light brighter than any he had every seen flooded his dream, with voices speaking in a language he had never heard. The vague impression of bodies moving in that bright, searing light was present, before it faded away completely and was replaced by a less bright scene, with small lights dotting the air above, and something the color of his mother's faerie fire below. A great monster of some kind was ahead, with large branching clubs coming out of its head, and Drizzt realized it was running away from his point of view.

The brighter shine of a new light source was too much, and Drizzt sat bolt upright, gasping, confused — and certain he had better not mention it to anyone in the House.

Meeting Guenhwyvar in his ninth year of school finally gave context to the dreams that Drizzt had slowly adapted to being able to see details from. Without knowing it, Masoj Hun'ett had engendered a form of loyalty to himself by that introduction. Drizzt could not conceive of murder or theft to acquire the figure, and thus Masoj had to be protected, so Guen would be safe.

It did leave him wondering about the other dreams, the ones in a place that had too much light, and so many colors when it wasn't overwhelming his mind with the brightness. Who was the person he was seeing glimpses of life through, and would she be as good a friend as Guen?

Alustriel had been exhausted by her latest outbreak of fire-fighting in the Silverwood. The initial burn had been needed, yet she was all but certain enemies of hers had fueled it to push it out of control. If she ever found out who the culprit was, she would make sure it was their last time endangering the people and the wildlife that way.

She finally admitted she needed the sleep, and gave herself over to it, rather than just meditate. Almost instantly, she was consumed by a dream, and this time she could see a little. It was very faint but she slowly made out smoldering troll bodies — and pieces of same — in a tunnel, with a faintly burning torch of some kind in one hand of her dream-bonded.

All around were other dark forms that she realized were other drow, including one who came up close enough for her eyes to make out a sigil stitched into the collar of his outer garment. The details were noted, before the torches that had lit this dream were snuffed out, leaving her in the dark with only the faintest sounds until the dream faded.

Those details remained with her upon waking, and a memory of having seen that face more than once before. Could the sigil be a clue to her drow's identity? It seemed likely, given the Spider's Drow tended to be insular to their own families.

Qilué studied what appeared to be a stylized spider wielding eight different weapons, and frowned. "I've never seen this one before. But I feel like it is safe to say your drow is in a Spider-only city. We get far fewer from those than the ones that have factions of my Lady's Brother.

"Still, we have many former traders. Stay for a meal, and we'll pass it around."

"I'd be glad to do so." Alustriel then gestured at the bare rock. "You've taken a larger area than you told us in this place. I'm quite pleased your plans are going so well."

Qilué smiled at that. "I don't want to hex it. But yes, we think we've managed to free enough space to actually move toward making it self-sustaining. Right now, we're still dependent on the gathering and hunting above."

"How do I help?"

Alustriel threw herself into working alongside her youngest sister's people, and when the meal came, she let her sketch pass among many hands. One woman suddenly stiffened as it came to her hands, squinting at it for a moment more before looking up.

"Vassa, from Mantol-Derith, Lady Silverhand. I once was a caravan fighter, and the only time I have ever seen that symbol on a drow? I was in Menzoberranzan. The man I dealt with was not as fearful of me and my women as some of their men were, and he bargained fair. But I was told, after, that the House he belonged to was a ruthless, ambitious rising power within the city.

"They know nothing of other gods, and we were made on threat of torture to never mention the names of any of them, in order to do trade there."

"Oh my," Alustriel said softly. "Thank you, Vassa. I have had an impression of privilege, such as it can be for a male in a city of that one."

"I will pray our Lady guides him safely out," Vassa told her, before the sketch was delivered back to Alustriel, and the meal turned to other topics.

Shock, more than anything, kept Drizzt silent as he rode on one of the tizzin taken from the House. His sister and father were safe on the backs of two others. He knew Vierna was fretting over his scorches and the swollen hand, but Drizzt only needed one to guide his beast, and had carefully splayed the broken one out into the least painful pose possible.

Soon they would stop, and then he would let her heal it. He found himself hoping for a dream of the bright place, as something to shake his mind away from killing Masoj and the Faceless One. He wanted Guenhwyvar to enjoy her freedom, but honestly was struggling to cope with killing drow to acquire her figure.

He remained silent, despite the searching looks from his family — still something he was shocked by, knowing this man was sire to both of them — and took first sleep once Vierna had healed his hand.

As if some true deity were listening, he fell into a room he'd seen before, but it was darkened, the lights dimmed, and a mirror stood there. With a shock, Drizzt realized the one he saw through was standing there, looking intently into the full-length mirror. She had hair that was bright silver, something he'd glimpsed when her hair had fallen forward in other dreams. She looked alien to him, ears all but hidden by her hair, and eyes so small and round, yet he knew someday he would find her.

Now, he knew just what she looked like, and that would be his guide.

Zak noticed the soft look on his son's face while he was still sleepy and not fully immersed in the waking world. He wondered at it, but it was his watch next. They would move after this one, having allowed Vierna to sleep for both watches. She would need to pray, while both men guarded her.

It wasn't until they were riding again — the amulets controlling the beasts answered to Vierna as the only true daughter of House Do'Urden — that he considered it in depth. Was his son, his dancer, afflicted by the dreams? He'd had his since just before he'd come to Vartha's attention, and been groomed to be eligible for Melee Magthere, despite being common-born.

His own bonded had twitted him hard over the years, once they both had been honest about the thing between them. And it was not something ever breathed in drow society, so perhaps he should broach it with his son later.

When they stopped in a defensible spot, he kept quiet at first, still aware that Drizzt was carrying more tension than usual. His brief words about killing Hun'ett's wizards had been clipped, terse even. That was beyond Zak's ability to pry at, so once they had all eaten, he chose to tackle the dreams obliquely.

"Do they teach about dream-bonds to you priestesses?" he asked. "That thing where a person will see things through another's eyes?"

Vierna frowned, then shifted to look at her father intently. "No. But now I am curious. My dreams are always of my Lord's realms, and sometimes His presence."

Zaknafein sighed, aware Drizzt was following the conversation with all he was. "Dangerous, in our old city, to ever think about it. Especially in our House. It was a weakness to be hidden at all costs, or the other person might be used against you.

"No doubt why it's not even taught in the temple school."

"The only mention of dreams I ever heard were those of supposed visions, usually to justify cruelty," Drizzt offered. He was sitting with the black figurine in his lap, as if touching it was helping calm him down.

"Hmm, heard enough of that in my life," Zak agreed. "It's natural to dream, but if the dream was of spiders and House glory, it was not to be said aloud.

"But no, there is a different kind of dream, where you see everything as if through another person's eyes. I'd been working with the other part of mine for over a century before I let slip that I could see his life. He admitted to seeing mine since I'd been born, given he was a good bit older than I was."

"You've lived a long time!" Vierna said, eyes wide as she considered that.

Zak chuckled at her, all but seeing the thought that she thought he was older than most of the men in the city. "It's not Gromph," he assured her, as that was the logical jump. "And it was a very hidden secret on both sides, for many reasons."

"He's there… and you're here," Drizzt said, his face changing to something pained.

"He'll find me in time. He's not as constrained as most males."

"Bregan D'aerthe's leader?" his children said in one voice, fully shocked and a little awed.

"Hmm, looks like you two got all of Malice's brains," Zak said, nodding. "Made for some lucrative deals that she was pleased to take advantage of, but made it all the more necessary to never let on we were more than occasional allies."

"I'd say we get our intelligence from our father," Vierna said with a sniff. She was not, yet, willing to admit anything good about their unlamented mother.

"As you will," Zak said. "So, if either of you dreams of strange places and people… that could be what it is. The best he could ever learn was that it was a connection that could become something more. He swears he knew of a pair that were mortal enemies afflicted by it, and that is a bond of its own kind, I suppose."

Would Drizzt open up about his? After a bit of silence, it seemed not, but at least the subject was out there now.

The oddest thing of this dream was how lit it was. Alustriel had the impression her dream-bonded drow was as full of wonder as she was, but that might have been wishful thinking. The crystalline lights were unlike anything she had seen before. The view of scuttling insects the size of cats added more light, as they were glowing as if small balls of flame. All around the cavern were sights so alien to Alustriel as to evoke a different world.

This, she decided, was why so many drow called the Underdark a beautiful yet deadly place. What provoked the internal glow of the crystals? What had changed the insects to be so large, and full of light in a place where light could bring death?

She would have so many questions for her future friend, including who the man and woman were, having seen them before in rarely lit dreams. She marveled at the huge reptiles, looking so deadly, especially when her dream-bonded fearlessly petted that sharp muzzle. She could ask her youngest sister… but she wanted to wait, for when the drow came above.

Drizzt eyed his family nervously. He'd been very careful not to stand out once they settled. His tricks with animals he kept to himself, his opinions on drow cruelty were never uttered. He had a goal from the minute they arrived, one he doubted his sister or father would agree with.

Journeys above with the traders had only reinforced the idea that his goal was correct for him. Even the trouble with a Lolthite House had not done anything but reinforce what he wanted — to live free, above, and find the silver-haired woman.

"Spit it out." Zaknafein's blunt words put Vierna more on edge than Drizzt's obvious stubborn resolve.

"I mean to travel to the surface, alone, and explore," he said. "I have more than earned the cost of my surface gear, given the fight with the duergar last trip. Nalatar says my Common is more than adequate to any need. And… this place is not safe for me, not forever. I am too different, and it chafes for me to keep pretending to be truly drow."

Vierna's face showed her dislike of it, but she managed to not let it flavor her voice. "A month, at least. I need that to make a sending stone for you to use with father."

"It will take me most of that to acquire useful things and knowledge," Drizzt agreed, clearly relieved that she was not going to argue.

"When you find the one in your dream, you better tell me about them," Zak said casually, causing Drizzt to freeze, his eyes going wide. "You don't hide things well," Zaknafein told him. "You might not ever talk about it, but I figured out when you'd had one early on."

"I… I will, father."

He was on the surface! Not just the brief glimpses in some hamlet, but fully on the surface, without other drow! She would need to carve time out for naps, to allow the dreams to come. A very real, large part of her wished to scry for him and just go, yet she knew his youth. She thought it best to give him time to explore the world, while she tidied up hanging threads of her rule here in Silverymoon.

She was not so naive as to think her city would still wish her to rule if the drow proved to be a constant presence in her life. She hoped they would be, but it was best to plan for the uglier side of humanity to rise up. She'd long-since warned Del and his brothers about the potential future match. When Kor had arrived, she had told him before he could choose to tie himself to her so firmly.

Kor had been more intent on doing so, grumbling that a drow brought all kinds of dangers and enemies. Del had been slow to warm to the idea, but the others had pointed out that Alustriel's bond to their father was not lessened by her finding a new one.

Alustriel reveled in knowing that she would, within a few years at most, meet the drow of her dreams.

Drizzt had, over the years, come to suspect that his mysterious lady possessed great power. He had actually chosen not to speak of her for that reason, to his father or sister, knowing it might have set them against her.

After studying the people of Neverwinter, remaining well-hidden and evading their regular patrols of fighters in uniforms, he'd come to believe she was very distinct in both her looks and her height, the latter being a guess for how she had often been looking downward at others in the dreams.

Finding a place of business that printed information on the workings of the region proved to be fortune turning in his favor, as he learned of a lady called Laeral Silverhand, who lived down the coast, and by the accounts in the information, met the criteria of the woman he was looking for.

Silver-haired witch thought to be behind recent assassination foiling! at least looked like she lived an interesting life!

~Laeral, dear? May I ask you to be somewhat visible in the evenings, but away from crowds?~ Alustriel asked, amusement flavoring her sending.

~Oh this sounds like an invitation to danger, adventure, or mischief,~ Laeral responded. She then picked up with one of her own. ~May I know why, oh my sister?~

~My dream-bonded is most definitely traveling the coast, and is passing the Sword Mountains now. I believe he has heard of your appearance.~

It took a bit of time for the recharge to take effect, but Laeral's laughter was still evident when she sent a new one. ~I will be on the look out for your drow, dear, and see if he would prefer to come to you the quickest way possible.~

~Many thanks, Laeral. Try not to tease him too much, hmm? He seems quite serious.~

The sendings ended then, and Laeral decided she should attempt to intercept the drow before he encountered Waterdeep's outer patrols. Fortunately, her villa was on the northern edge of the claimed territory, and she had that spell she wanted to work on anyway.

The ocean had lured Drizzt down to the beach a number of times in his wandering, though a lack of knowing what he could eat kept driving him back to the grasses or trees at more of a distance. This evening, he decided he wanted to watch the sun set across the broad expanse of water, to see what the colors did.

His eyes still protested the brightness at times, but sunset seemed a little easier than sunrise, he'd discovered. He kept the cloak he'd used to hide his features pulled around him, as the ocean wind was brisk. A quick detour down the crumbling face of a rise, and he was on a strand of the beach smoothed by the recent tidal shift. All he needed was to find —

— somewhere to hide? There was a being at a distance, one that he could not quite make out with the late day light dazzling him where it glanced off the drier sands between him and the person.

"Peace, drow," came words right at his ear, quiet and as if the person were standing beside him. Was it a trick… no. His sight cleared enough to see the pale sheen of hair, and his heart began to race. Rather than look out to the west, he stayed fixed upon the person.

And then, once she was near enough, his hopes failed, and he knew nothing but bitterness for a moment, as this person had the hair and height, but the features were different from the treasured memory of the dreamed lady.

"You are on the right tack, but no, I am not the one you seek," the woman said, now in easy speaking distance of him. "She warned me her dreams had placed you traveling the coast, and asked me to be on hand to lend aid.

"Oh, bother. Do you even understand me?"

"I do, Lady," Drizzt said, his emotions rising once more. "Are you kin to her? She knows of my travels? This is something shared? My father mentioned it should be a shared thing, but I worried.

"I'm sorry, that was all very rude. I am Drizzt Do'Urden."

The woman gave a broad smile. "And I am Laeral Silverhand, younger sister to Alustriel, the one you seek. Shall we enjoy the sunset, as it is close at hand, and then I can offer you a faster passage to her?"

Drizzt laughed, bright and happy at her words, at her lack of fear of him. "I came down solely to see what the sun looks like as it sets over the water, so yes. And … I think I would like that."

"Good."

Alustriel had divested herself of all of her responsibilities as swiftly as possible that night. Near the middle of the night hours, her sister's signature sparkling energy coalesced at the family teleport room, and she caught her breath.

Standing with both hands in her sister's was the drow, his eyes closed against the effect of the spell. Alustriel wanted to bless her sister for warning him of that. Then he was letting go, turning… and she saw the man that had haunted her dreams for the first time.

"Welcome. I hope, in time, you find this to be a home to you," Alustriel began. "My name is Alustriel Silverhand, as Laeral probably told you."

"I am grateful to her for speeding this meeting, and I am Drizzt Do'Urden. I look forward to learning of you, and this place, now that my eyes have adapted to the light better." His smile held mischief and warmth both, lighting Alustriel's own heart with fondness. Maybe he was not as serious as she had thought after all.

"You two, go get acquainted and settle him in," Laeral said with a smile of her own. "I'll talk to your secretary first thing, and see if there is anything 'Alustriel' should sit in on, or if your schedule can be shuffled off to your council."

"Thank you, Laeral." Alustriel held her hand out to Drizzt… and he took it without hesitation or fear.

"I think, Lady, I am going to be far more boring to learn, than you will be to me," Drizzt said softly as they walked out of that room.

"Oh, I doubt that," Alustriel promised him, giddy at this new beginning. They had all the time in the world, but that didn't stop her from wanting to get a solid start on it now he was here.

senmut

On That Night (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: Zaknafein Do'Urden, Malice Do'Urden
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Summary:

Zaknafein decides, in the face of it all, to take the chance to kill her.

On That Night

She would never be weaker than she was in this moment, Lloth's favor or not. Zaknafein knew the spells would soon evaporate, but if he could get back to the house, he could avenge his son. He knew good and damn well she had made him sire this third-born son just to shove a knife in his ribs. Fueled by his rage, by the unjustness of it, he left ahead of the Do'Urden forces, slipping along ways that were less traveled, especially on a night of a House war.

Into the House, past the chapel, straight to the quarters he had been inside of too many times for his taste at this late point in his life.

He would die tonight, but not before he killed the woman he had once loved, once guarded with all he was. He'd grown so disillusioned, yet he still remembered the early days, when he had thought life could be different than the hell they existed in.

"You did well tonight," Malice said as he entered. "A pity you have to be so trying."

"You know why I am here," Zaknafein said coldly.

"Finally think you can? When I am weakened by childbirth, and drained of spells? You are a fool yet, my damnable Weapon Master." She made no move to call for guards, though, and when he advanced, none of her spiders threatened him.

"I hate you. I hate everything."

"Except your children." Malice smiled, actually smiled at him!

"I lost one to Her service, and one to the blade this night."

She laughed.

"No, the boy lives. And I will take pleasure in raising him as a proper drow."

Zaknafein knew it had to be a lie, refused to waver in his resolve, and moved ever closer.

"Do you think he'll survive under Briza? If the House would survive with her as matron?" she asked. "Think twice, Zaknafein. You can condemn him by striking me down. Likely condemn Vierna, your precious daughter you so loved," she mocked him. "Briza knows who the true threats are."

He faltered in his momentum, before throwing the pellet down, shattering it in blinding light. His ears told him Malice moved then, some artifact or other now in hand likely, but he was gone.

Jarlaxle would see him out of the city… and Zaknafein would pay him dearly to tell what was the truth in House Do'Urden.

senmut

Fight or Flight (6948 words) by Sharpest_Asp
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Zaknafein Do'Urden, Original Elf Character(s), Drizzt Do'Urden, Vierna Do'Urden, Inthylyn Aerasumé
Additional Tags: Ensemble Cast, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Summary:

When the raid is attacked by a pair of pegasus-riding elves, everything changes.

Zak and Kor

None but the priestess returned, and no one knew how or why. The raid was a complete failure, every single House that had sent someone in disgrace. House Do'Urden was most fallen in favor, having provided two members to the patrol. When House Hun'ett — spared because their wizard had been barred from it — came, Zaknafein did nothing more than needed to survive.

He did take pleasure, briefly, in killing the wizard that should have been on those patrols, cutting away the belt carrying all the pouches, so he would have trade goods. He then took himself away from the conflict, away from the city, re-establishing contact with Bregan D'aerthe in a nearby town with trade to various cities. His soul was numb, but dogged hope remained. He had to know the fate of his son.

Drizzt still felt the fear pounding through him for what he had done, for what he had witnessed. He'd fled blindly from the slaughter, only realizing after that his swords had accounted for at least some of the death. He was injured, had taken one of the overly large but thin bolts from the sky rained down on them from the monsters in the sky.

He couldn't say he was unhappy that the pair of creatures with riders had opened fire, not after seeing the faeries on the ground had been unarmed. Between the bolts, the diving and stomping creatures, it had been a complete rout —

— aided by his swords.

By the blade, what had he done?!

He couldn't think, couldn't fully remember the moments of the brief battle with anything like clarity. It was as if something had possessed him, making him lash out at every lie he'd finally grasped of his life, of the drow he belonged to. It was completely stunning that he'd managed to get under cover and stay hidden from the monsters and their riders.

Now… now he needed to determine how to survive, how to live, and he headed away from the trees, looking for anything that would serve as a sanctuary.

"There was a drow raid nearby, in the forest," Vierna told her fellow good drow. "We will not forage across the river. Anger is higher than usual, and the two pegasi riders that keep an eye on things believe at least one of the attackers escaped.

"Be cautious and keep your attention out, just in case they are correct. New drow who are found must be questioned by one of the stronger clerics." She grimaced. "And necessary actions will happen, if such a person is a threat."

"Yes, First Sister," they chorused, hoping that the survivor, if there was one, stayed very far from their hills.

Jarlaxle set the bundle down carefully, still not best-pleased at this entire idea. However, Zaknafein had more than earned the right to go and try. His work in Mantol-Derith had been invaluable since he took the reins there for Bregan D'aerthe.

"It's a very slim rumor, old friend."

"It's the first confirmation I've had that my son might have escaped," Zak said, "and for that, I will risk the surface."

"How do you manage to hold hope so easily?" Jarlaxle asked him, honestly curious. Zaknafein leveled a patented glare at him.

"It's not easy. But it makes it easier to live, thinking my strange son might have made a life up there, without falling prey to everything we are and become."

"You are only an optimist where he is concerned." Jarlaxle clapped a hand on Zak's shoulder. "If you cannot return through the Underdark, make your way to something called the Neverwinter Woods toward where the ball of fire vanishes.

"There's a group of His followers there, with access to Rilauven, and we can retrieve you from there. It's easier to get to from the surface than the headquarters in Skullport would be."

"I won't be back if he's dead," Zak said gruffly.

Jarlaxle didn't answer that, but did find himself praying the boy had survived… and had not become the monster that most drow were in Zaknafein's eyes.

Zaknafein lingered in the shadowed mouth of the cavern he'd finally emerged from. He drew out the talisman he'd taken when he left Menzoberranzan, years ago, the one that had taken a number of favors to find out more about.

"Guenhwyvar," he said, while holding it, and watched as the monster appeared, tail down and ears back. "Massive," Zak whispered, before pulling out the sealed packet, breaking it open to hold the contents out to her gingerly. "Drizzt. I need to find Drizzt. It's been years, but the wizard said you might … have ways."

Her ears had twitched, but the cat looked at him with narrow eyes, as if only held back by the fact he held her talisman.

Zak growled in frustration, still holding the tunic of his son that he'd stolen and held onto out of sentiment. "Damn it all, why am I even trying it this way?! I want my son back, and you're just a surface monster!"

She lashed her tail a moment, but then she moved, reaching with a paw to snag the tunic. The scent was so old, and he had to be long gone, but she seemed to be investigating it. She then dropped it, making him retrieve it, before turning her head this way and that.

Was there a magical connection, like the wizard had concluded? Zak remembered the man had been intrigued, stating that a second anchor held her, one outside of the figure of wondrous power that Zak controlled.

She stood on all four paws, and started walking in a direction before pausing, looking at him.

"You think you know?" Zak asked, even though it wasn't like she could answer.

She made the tiniest sound to be such a big cat and started walking again. He'd have to follow her lead, and hope — always HOPE with this son of his — she was right.

Korvallen signaled for caution as they approached the bloody battlefield. His keen eyes took in the number of goblins that had been clawed open, and the ones that had been sliced into pieces in some cases. When High Hold had asked for a patrol to go up past the border, Besnell had asked him to handle it. The double patrol was full of veterans, with even the squires close to knighting.

"Fanout, make sure they're dead. Spellguards, ready for a mass burial," he ordered, as their advent disturbed the carrion feeders. "Hell of a lot of goblins, good weapons among them… what did this if High Hold didn't?" he mused aloud.

"Knight-Captain!"

Korvallen turned toward the call and then trotted that way. As soon as he could see what he was being called to, a cloud of bloodied white hair sticking out from under the worg, he readied his sword for a short strike, just in case.

"I think he's breathing, and there's a sword in the worg," Vilmedaren said.

"So there was a fight for supremacy over this war band," Korvallen said, twitching to make a sure killing blow.

"And if he's the one that actually fought them?" Vilmedaren asked, making Korvallen remember his oaths.

"Damn it," Kor growled, but he helped his fellow Knight get the beast off of the unconscious — definitely living but maybe not for long — drow. Well, if the drow couldn't pass through the wards, he'd have another chance to end the foul dark one's life. Until then, he saw to getting first aid measures in place, while stripping the various weapons he could find away.

He noted they were surface made, as the clothing was, but that didn't mean much.

With a summoned mount and a stasis spell from the Spellguards, the patrol started back. Kor was damned disappointed when the wards let the drow pass, but kept it to himself — much as Niska probably was. Then it was a matter of outfitting a room in one of their outer properties to hold a drow, and getting a cleric who was willing to deal with him.

After everything could be done to heal him, and the spells had been removed, the drow was left alone, but under watch through a wall of force that would be renewed as needed. All of the drow's belongings were inspected for traps and carefully catalogued.

The drow came conscious not long after everything was settled, but merely sat up, studying what could be seen through the open door. Jastinathiel was the unlucky elf that got to be stared at, and she let the Palace know the drow was awake but not moving. As food, water, and other necessities were in the room with the man, Jasti let herself just settle to the watch, knowing someone would eventually come to talk to the man, and see what could be learned.

Once the initial interview had happened, Taern Hornblade, one of the few in the city to know certain facts, sent to Thyl and requested his presence in Silverymoon.

The next day, Thyl was told about the encounter and current resident of one of the outer holding houses.

"The drow has given his word to remain in the house, and Talaris, thankfully, has gone to be his liaison. We actually think he means it, because he has a goal of finding a drow on the surface, and we have resources he needs."

"And you summoned me because?" Thyl asked, curious.

"The man's name is Zaknafein Do'Urden, and he's been truthful in all he answered." Taern met the half-elf's eyes. "I know that last name because of your connections."

"Yes," Thyl said, stunned. "I… I'll meet him, and then decide from there. I can't risk them."

"Of course you cannot," Taern said. "We have been thankful for their warnings over the years. The goblin raid was coming out of the Lurkwood, stumbled across him. They wanted him to join them, he took offense, and … well. I doubt many lived to run away.

"But they were not in your friend's territory, just so you can be reassured on that."

"Thank you, Taern. I'll go talk to him now, and see how to handle this."

Zaknafein had decided — for now — that biding his time with these surface people was worth it. They had patched him up, had not taken his belongings, and seemed grateful for dealing with the goblins. Once he gave his word, they had dropped the wall of force and asked him to only stay inside the house while they found someone to help him.

If he could find his son faster by relying on accidentally saving them the trouble of a raid, so be it.

The wizard assigned was willing to show him how to manage the strange things, even how to cook food, though Zak wasn't sure he cared to be that close to the heat source. And the wizard even looked remarkably ready to deal with any threats, when a different half-elf showed up, towering above them both.

"You're Zaknafein. I am Thyl," the man said in Undercommon. "Not speak many words, but hello. Spell for better words?" he offered.

Talaris nodded in approval, so Zak decided it was worth the risk. These surface people seemed lacking in deception so far.

The newcomer, Thyl, cast a spell, letting Zak understand and speak the surface language.

"I really should work on learning more Undercommon, but this will work. I'm told you are seeking another drow? I know of some, and might be able to aid."

"Looking for another fighter, like me, but young," Zaknafein said. "Very skilled, missing from me for … I think it has been six years, if the years here and below match."

"From what I have learned, yes," Thyl said. "Why are you seeking him?"

How to encapsulate his reasons without seeming weak?

"He has never belonged among other drow, but he deserves a chance to live well. He is my student."

Zaknafein's heart said other things — son, protégé, pride.

"Those who leave the Underdark often have strong reasons not to go back," Thyl pointed out. "If I give aid, what do you intend with him?"

"That depends on how he has lived, since he was lost," Zaknafein said. "If he has become as other drow, it will be an end. If he is still strange, I will ask his wishes."

That answer was not what the half-elf had been expecting, and it was several minutes before Thyl spoke to him again, having been focused inward.

"What is his name, so I can ask among those I know?"

"Drizzt. Drizzt Do'Urden."

Vierna had been caught completely off-guard by Thyl's sending, and was still chewing on it when he finally appeared the next day. She took his hand, guiding him to her inner office, over a chorus of disappointed young drow and others about him arriving without a pegasus.

"I am very, very concerned," she told him.

"Let me tell you how everything came around, and then you can be more concerned. As I asked another question after I sent to you that I was talking to a Do'Urden." He settled next to her, and laid out the request for aid from High Hold, what had been found, the decision to bring the man back, that he had passed the wards, and all that had turned up after.

"He's looking for a fighter named Drizzt, same family name, and he said, I quote, 'if he's still strange, I'll ask what he wishes'."

"The name 'Zaknafein' is known to me. It's the Weapon Master," she told him. "I do not know 'Drizzt', but Malice — my mother — would have had more children after I left. Likely the secondboy of the House."

"Didn't you say you thought the Weapon Master was your father?" Thyl asked gently.

"Yes. And I desperately want to go and see him for myself, but… I have a responsibility to my people."

Thyl petted a hand over her braids, nodding. "Let us keep him in Silverymoon, try to pick up a lead. As you obviously know nothing of this fighter."

Vierna closed her eyes, thinking over the time. "The raid in the Moonwood. That matches up to how long he says it's been, close enough. We never found sign of the survivor the pegasus riders thought had gotten away, but only thirteen bodies were there. The priestess would not have been on the surface, and we've heard wizards aren't allowed up.

"That brings the number to fifteen… but it should be an even multiple of eight."

"Making it likely there was a survivor, but not proving he survived for long after. Only, no body."

Vierna nodded. "If the fighter is neutral, as you say the Weapon Master was confirmed to be, he should still be someone my Lady can reach. So I will pray to her.

"Tell him — tell him that it is being worked on, but do not mention me directly. Not yet."

"Yes, Vierna."

Thyl walked into the house and gave Kirana a smile, not surprised she had joined Talaris for a meal.

Zaknafein was in his own room, and Thyl tapped on the door, waiting for permission. The drow nodded curtly, and Thyl sat on the stool. Again, he relied on magic for communication, wanting no misunderstandings.

"None of my contacts have heard of the fighter," he began. "However, they will be working on looking, and have resources I don't for that. Their leader asks if you would be comfortable staying here, so they can get word to you, with whatever they find."

Zaknafein frowned. "Would rather be working on it. I have a magical artifact to help me."

Thyl shook his head. "Drow are feared, by good and evil people, with reason. You would be attacked, time and again, if seen. Staying here, letting the drow that know how to move unseen up here do it, at least for a time, is much safer.

"And I will take you to wherever their leads find as soon as they tell me."

Zaknafein grimaced at him. "I can't just stay cooped up inside this house."

"I thought that. And already asked my mother if I could set you up in the Palace itself, in a room that is without windows, but close to a courtyard you could exercise in. And I have a cousin that could actually show you the city."

The suspicion on Zaknafein's face was pricelessly blatant.

"You're not a prisoner. You gave your word, and were honest about it. And we do owe you," Thyl pressed. "My cousin is a fighter too. They like meeting new people, and know enough to not be prejudiced, given they are a half-elf too, and have been badly treated by the full bloods."

"That's an issue? And you say 'they' but mean one?"

"It is an issue. Even me and my brothers, despite the rank of our father when he was alive, catch it." Thyl then shrugged. "As to they, Kolarven isn't a man or a woman by nature, so they don't use the other pronouns."

Zaknafein blinked, then shrugged. "If it gets me out of here, and gives me a chance to maybe work on learning language and move around, I agree. For one month. After that, I will go seek Drizzt."

Thyl nodded. "That's reasonable. If they haven't found him in a month, I'd say it's going to take a lot more. And maybe, by then, you will have a strong enough feel for the surface to not run into too much trouble.

"It's night now, so if you want to get your things, I'll walk you over?"

He was glad he hadn't had to make it about the fact Vierna was an ally to the city, so the conversation didn't get too complicated. His mother had agreed that with all they had discerned, keeping him in the Palace made sense, both for security and as repayment of favors to Vierna. If this Drizzt wasn't found in a month, he'd see if Vierna wanted Zaknafein brought to her first.

Kolarven was not the knight that came to show Zaknafein the courtyard for exercise. Korvallen had heard Thyl's plan and lost his temper.

"That man slew an entire band of goblins and a worg. I am not having my kin anywhere near the ends of that man's blades!" he thundered at his nephew.

Thyl drew in a deep breath. "Then I'll stay in the city and handle it. Maybe he can teach me something his daughter hasn't already," the stubborn half-elf said, dropping the connection in hopes of his uncle cooling his temper.

Korvallen did jerk as if struck, then his eyes narrowed. "What?"

"She can't know for certain, but Vierna's family name is Do'Urden," Thyl said. "And she's long suspected the Weapon Master was her father."

Kor chewed on that in the back of his mind. He'd heard the stories of the 'moon elf' that had joined Elué's campaign as a healer, and then defended the wounded against a sneak attack with skill to rival the best fighters Elué had.

"I'll meet him. You will be there for language only, as I meant it. None of my kin go near his blades!"

From the very first spar, Thyl could see something growing between the two men. Respect, yes, maybe even a wary thaw in their indoctrinated hatred of each other's species. He came for the first two exercises, and was told he wasn't needed after that, as the two men could get by in Goblin.

That was strange to Thyl, but as Korvallen and Zaknafein seemed fascinated by each other's skills, he let it go. Frankly, watching them spar was a little terrifying anyway.

~My uncle has found his match, and he's not happy it's a drow, but it's a good experience for both.~

His sending to Vierna was colored by his wary amusement.

~Well, maybe it will help them both see more in common than at odds,~ Vierna replied.

Korvallen passed the water skin over to Zak, both of them dripping with sweat from how hard that session had gone. The original intent to protect his family had given way to sheer curiosity on how skilled the other man was. That had led to curiosity on other matters, because Zak began every meeting with a request for updates on the search.

So far there had been some rumors, but nothing solid.

"This fighter you're hunting; you mean him no harm?" Kor finally asked.

Zaknafein finished his swallow, and sized Kor up. "My son. Worried over him."

Korvallen's chest ached, imagining any of the boys missing for years on end, not even knowing if they lived.

If it were Kolarven? Kor knew he'd be turning over every rock to find his nibling.

"Good fighter like you?"

"Will be better. If he lives long enough to learn more. But yes. Fast, confident, skilled."

"Then, Named Ones willing, he's out there, just keeping himself hidden out of caution," Korvallen said, making up his mind to talk to Elué about the missing fighter.

"So we know he is likely out there," Korvallen told Zaknafein, Thyl providing language support by magic as it could get difficult. "Too many 'might have been a drow' sightings to our south. But Thyl has more information to bring to bear on this."

Zaknafein looked at the half-elf then, eyebrow arched.

"My contacts among the good drow are connected to this in ways that feel almost unreal," Thyl said. "It's not well known that I have a partnership with a drow cleric, leader of the largest community of good drow in the north.

"She had to be cautious, because of the connections," he explained. "Because her name is Vierna Do'Urden."

"What?!"

Korvallen put a hand on his friend's arm to anchor the dangerous drow in the here and now, knowing that had to be slamming wariness and suspicion through him.

"She knew the temple in your city would be a death sentence for her, so she left." Thyl gave a soft smile. "She eventually led a small band to the surface, and they have been rescuing drow, and others, ever since."

"That seems… convenient." Zaknafein looked at Kor for his opinion.

"I was not here, but Vierna, under an illusion, came to serve as a cleric when Elué took her city back last century. There was an attack, and she was credited with turning the tide, using twin swords with speed and precision."

"Swords, hmm?" Zak questioned, but some of the suspicion eased back.

"Eilistraee's clerics are all encouraged to take up the blade, rather than maces," Thyl said. "She has invited you to come to see her, but with the sightings to the south, she understands if you prefer to seek your son first.

"And says both of you will be welcome there, once you do find him. She is appalled she has been unable to scry him this entire time, and the goddess has not been able to find him either. She asked."

That shook the stoic fighter enough to be seen.

"He's even more in need than she is. I will go find him with the cat, and then… come back here, for assistance finding where she is," Zak finally said, having weighed it.

"We." Korvallen took a deep breath. "You need someone to help if there are people involved. And I haven't gone out of the city on a long trip in years. I already asked for a leave of absence to aid you in finding your son. Family is damned important."

Zak nodded, accepting that.

"I'll tell Vierna," Thyl added, leaving so they could ready for their journey.

Guenhwyvar had not been best pleased by the long time since she was called, but now the drow spoke some Common, and there was an elf who did as well. She could still feel the drow she was supposed to be with, the one whose heart matched hers so strongly.

Every day she could be there, she kept them on a path toward that pull, while avoiding other places that had speaking people. She did not want any further delays, and hoped the drow would give up the figure once they found her drow.

She thought they were making good time; that sense was ever-closer each time she was called. She just needed to be patient.

Drizzt looked at his teacher — savior, really — as Gnasher went very alert. He didn't feel anything evil or unnatural nearby, but she could get her impressions straight from him.

Aronna flicked a hand in 'up' and then Gnasher trotted over to the den he'd been using at this camp. There was no fire mark to give them away, and both had disturbed very little. Aronna vanished into a tree shadow before Drizzt had found a place to hide above.

"Maybe call the cat?" was the first Drizzt's ears caught, before he managed to spot the pair moving beneath the trees, an elf and a drow — a drow he thought he knew!

"Too soon," the drow said. "She did think we were close, if her reluctance to leave was anything to go by."

How could the Weapon Master be here? How and why was he working with an elf? Was this a trick? His heart hammered with remembered panic and fear from … however long ago it had been. He wished for Aronna to be closer, so he could warn her how dangerous this might be. The Weapon Master had tried to kill him, and then been very hostile the few times Drizzt had seen him before the raid. Maybe it wasn't him? People looked different under surface light.

Aronna, however, was making up her own mind, and as Gnasher drew attention by moving, she revealed herself in a shadow.

"Why do a drow and an elf walk together in the wilds?" she asked aloud. Drizzt noted neither startled; they both had noted her even as they did have to turn around.

"Seeking another drow who needs help," the elf said. "Saer Druid," he added, inclining his head. "A boy of their people was lost on the surface some years ago."

Drizzt quivered in place, his fear spiking harder.

"Saer Protector," Aronna began, addressing the elf, "surely a drow child would have difficulty surviving days, let alone years."

"Boy was counted as an adult, but still young. No experience."

That was definitely the Weapon Master, even with the oddities caused by surface light to see him by! And… he was working with an elf. This made so little sense, but Drizzt stayed still. Aronna had not let him know it was clear to join her.

"The boy is his son, Saer Druid, and I've given my word to help find the boy, so that my friend here has peace of his heart."

Son? Briza hadn't lied?

Aronna shifted her weight, and Drizzt recognized it as an invitation for him to make his own choice. After a moment, he dropped straight down, perched on the balls of his feet and hands near his hilts, glad she was not as close to the drow as he was.

"Drizzt?" the Weapon Master said, and maybe he did sound relieved, but Drizzt wasn't about to believe it fully.

"My student doesn't speak much," Aronna said for him, "but he can make his own choices easily enough."

Drizzt just kept staring at the Weapon Master… who unbuckled his sword belt and let them fall, putting his hands wide then.

"Keep yours. I know you have reason," Zaknafein said gruffly, keeping it in Common.

Step… step… and then he was right in front of the Weapon Master with his hands both out. He didn't actually expect to be dragged into a hug, but after a brief flare of worry, Drizzt had to admit it felt good.

Introductions happened, and things seemed much calmer. While the pair of drow moved off to the side, and fell into their own language — mostly the elder one — Korvallen sat with the druid.

"Not many as would take in a drow," he began. "I know I wasn't happy about it at first."

Aronna shook her head. "He was half-starved, traumatized, and still defending a doe and her fawn from a wounded wolverine. What was I supposed to do but accept Mielikki was calling to him?"

Gnasher made disgruntled noises; that had been a nasty encounter for them all.

"Wild-called?" Korvallen asked, eyes widening in shock.

"Very. So I've kept us to the druid paths, mostly, unless his instincts or mine call us," she said. "He knows Common now, could survive on his own, but whatever happened that kept him above has scarred him badly in his spirit.

"I think, from glimpses of it in our worst fighting, he may have a touch of a battle-rager in him and it sits poorly. Because he has a gentle nature when he is allowed to."

"His father said he was strange by their ways, but convinced us all he did just want to find the boy, and let him choose a path… unless he'd become like other drow," Kor admitted.

"No. He's as skittish as a wild elf, but he's far from all the tales I know of that race."

"Will you have any qualms if he does go with his father?" Kor asked bluntly.

"No. I'll miss him. But I trust his judgment." Aronna looked at Korvallen firmly. "He's wounded. Soul-deep. I will enjoin you to keep an eye on how that affects his interactions with the man."

Kor nodded, accepting that. He knew about soul-deep wounds.

"Going to have to get used to you being quiet again," Zaknafein said in a quiet voice, well aware the other two were talking about them. "You're safe, Drizzt. Safer even than I could make you in the gymnasium. I have a place for us to go, and if that doesn't suit us, a different one."

Drizzt tipped his head, barely looked at Korvallen, then back to his father.

"His is the second place. Didn't expect to make friends with a faerie, but it suits me. The first place — do you remember the sister I mentioned? I found out she was not stolen, but that she ran away and survived. She's like you, and has offered us a place among others like you."

Drizzt looked surprised by that, then asked one word. "Trust?"

"Maybe. We'll find out, together?"

That got a slow nod, and then Drizzt toyed with the figure of wondrous power Zaknafein had given him.

"Day after tomorrow, you can call her," Zak said. "She's missed you, I think. Pushed us to move as much as possible toward you."

Drizzt nodded, then tucked it away, settling against the tree. More changes were ahead, but he thought he could trust his father now.

They made the city in good time, with the plan being to let Drizzt have time in a civilized bath, get him fed up more — Aronna had done well by him but he could stand to put a little weight on — as well as to re-equip him with better gear.

They didn't expect to have him almost in a panic from seeing a moon-elf. Korvallen wasn't even certain what was happening at first, but Zaknafein caught the muscle-lock, the dropped gaze, and put the pieces together.

"Are any of the more treed areas open at this time of night?" Zak asked, after physically moving his son to be held, tucking Drizzt's head down on his shoulder.

"The Glade. His teacher was Mielikkian, so that might have extra benefits," Kor agreed.

Drizzt didn't even really take the time to appreciate the Moon Bridge, being so trapped in his own head just by that sighting. Still, Zak was able to guide him, following Kor, until they reached the Sacred Glade of Mielikki. Zak felt a little uncomfortable, having forsworn all religion, but his love of his son let him push through that.

Drizzt — Drizzt wasn't with them any more, once they crossed the sacrosanct boundaries, caught up in something that only rangers and druids of the Forest Queen could truly feel. Korvallen noted it, and used the tap code Zak had taught him.

"Let him wander," he said with it, and Zak let go, reluctantly, falling back to trail with Kor as Drizzt walked the spiraling path, lost in something not far from a waking Reverie.

At the center of the glade, Drizzt dropped to his knees there, still unaware of others, so Kor and Zak took up watch from a bench. An acolyte on duty for late offerings, given the night's charity was just past, blinked at having not one but two drow present, yet the Knight-Captain was known.

When a senior cleric came from the cloister, using the portals, and went straight to Drizzt, Zak tensed all over.

"No. That's Grevaine," Kor said softly. "He's probably the third-highest cleric in the church here, and I think Mielikki must have sent him."

Grevaine knelt in front of the young drow, waiting, and when Drizzt did come back to himself, there were low words that neither of the elder fighters could make out. Grevaine then hung something around Drizzt's neck, before he and Drizzt both stood, coming over to the pair waiting.

"Greetings, Knight-Captain. Saer," Grevaine said. "The ranger is always welcome here, or at the cloister," he added. "Mielikki Herself said there is a magic that is a risk to others who belong to the Dark Maiden, though, and wanted you to be aware of it."

Zaknafein almost bared his teeth, because that meant more meddling from the eight-legged monstrosity.

"Our Lady will investigate it, Leaf Grevaine. Thank you." Kor stood from the bench.

"Drizzt, are you going to be alright crossing the city again, or should we get a room on this side?" Zaknafein asked.

"Walk," Drizzt said softly.

Grevaine smiled, and squeezed the young man's shoulder before leaving them to the night.

"I'd ask what he told you, but it can wait," Kor said, noticing the pendant was one of the full unicorn, not just the head, that had been given to Drizzt. After a minute he remembered the difference.

A full unicorn was a warning to treat gently, that the Mielikkian was healing.

Drizzt shrugged a little, before they set off to go back to the Palace.

Because of a small crisis between Nesmé and Mirabar that Elué was negotiating, Kor asked for Thyl to contact either Syluné or Laeral. Somehow this led to both of them coming — Laeral to protect Qilué's interests and Syluné to get away from her tragedies — to investigate the matter.

What they learned was horrifying for all elves, if they ever learned it, and Kor actually spent time in the small glen dedicated to the Seldarine to relay the discovery via prayer. He had no idea if any of the Named Ones heard or cared, but the last thing he wanted was for the fallen drow gods, especially Corellon's Mistake, to launch a new war.

Having two very powerful women in Drizzt's space had been harder on Zak than Drizzt, though, as the young ranger was just grateful to have the shroud removed. Syluné remained longer, replacing the divine spell with a lesser form of non-detection for both drow men, hiding them specifically from Lolth's clerics.

The next few days after that had involved trips to the Glade, much soaking in the baths, and the fitting for armor and clothing. Finally, nearly a month after arriving in Silverymoon, Kor relinquished his friend and the boy to Thyl, so they could go to Spirit Sanctuary, home of the good drow of the North.

Given the reaction to the moon elf, Zaknafein had asked for the first meeting to be handled with only Vierna present, leading Thyl to take them to a private spot he knew of.

Drizzt was preoccupied with the trees, and a squirrel yelling still about their sudden appearance, when Vierna arrived and looked over them all. Zaknafein took in the way she moved — sure and confident even in the leaf litter on the ground — before he went to her.

"You… you can't be anyone but my student," he said softly. "Daughter."

She smiled, eyes glistening a little at that immediate claim. "Father. My teacher." She offered her hands, and he took them, squeezing gently. She then looked past him, with a small smile for Thyl, to see the brother that had only recently been revealed to her goddess. There was something innocent in the way he was patiently feeding the squirrel family bits of nuts from his own pouch.

She'd been warned by Eilistraee that the song was still withheld, because of trauma, but she had made up her mind she would do all she could to heal it.

"Drizzt, come meet my daughter," Zaknafein called, making the young man turn and actually take in the other person.

Vierna took her cue from Zak, even as she ached to claim him as a brother. She could imagine how hard his life had been under Briza, any other daughters that Malice had produced. She slowly let go of Zak's hands when the fighter — ranger, Thyl had said — came close enough to greet her.

"Hello, Drizzt. My name is Vierna, as I think you know. Welcome."

He met her eyes for just a moment, before he looked at her shoulder. Better, she supposed, than the ground, but what had caused such deep wounds in his soul?

"We have several dwarves, a few goblins, even a half-orc, living in our village," Vierna told him. "All of them are escaping evil lives, and living peacefully here. Our village is dedicated to protecting one another, helping people escape, and saving those who wander into trouble up here.

"Would you like to come in with me, and see what life among good drow is like?"

He looked to their father.

"If it's too much, we'll leave again," Zak said, a promise. "But, like your cleric friend told you, you heard the difference between good and evil that night. You acted without thought maybe, but you obeyed your nature to be good.

"These drow are like you. They will understand."

Drizzt looked back to Vierna then, and she held her breath, promising herself she would get what Zaknafein knew later.

Very slowly, Drizzt held his hand out, then the other, to greet her, and she gave her hands to him, palms up, letting him control it. If he was so good without having heard the song, how had he even survived in their birth city?!

"Let's go in, and I'll show you rooms you can both use. Exploring can happen when you feel safe enough."

Drizzt was safely in bed, and everyone was warned he'd be up with the dawn, no doubt. Vierna was sitting with her legs folded up, tucked into Thyl's side. Zaknafein was sitting opposite them, and all of them had a mulled cider.

"Best we've been able to piece together from the work the Glade's clerics did," Thyl began, "is that the attack from above, by creatures he had no reference for, triggered a fight reaction too strong for him to handle."

"Only, he's so damn well trained and skilled, that it was lethal for his targets," Zak said. "The other drow of his patrol."

"That would explain the bodies that had cuts instead of arrows or caved in skulls," Vierna said slowly. "Dhaeln went as our representative, to learn more, when the warning came. So we would know how to protect ourselves. But… he attacked them, not the moon elves, not the pegasi once they were in reach?"

Zaknafein drew in a very deep breath. "All of his life, bottled up by the hatred Malice's daughters heaped on him, enduring everything the school could throw at him? The clerics said his nature guided his actions, even without truly understanding good and evil. He saw a mostly defenseless group in the faerie, saw people defending them from the air, and reacted accordingly."

"But because it was so unthinking, he's locked around guilt for killing his comrades, horror at surviving, all reinforced by however long he was alone and half-starved before the druid found him," Thyl finished.

"He handled himself well, then," Vierna said firmly, having watched him through the community meal, seen the bright curiosity in his reactions to the others, even the younger drow. "We'll see him healed, Father. I know it is hard for most drow to understand the heart and spirit can be injured, but his are.

"We'll help him find his strength, maybe his voice."

Zak nodded. "I… believe that now." He shook his head. "Silence was what he learned to give, when Malice's daughters went after him. Honestly, I think Malice and I were the only two he felt safe talking to."

"Mother?!" Vierna asked incredulously.

"Decided to make him her project, to eventually replace me," Zak said in a darker voice, making it make more sense.

"Well, he'll never have to know that was a calculated ploy, then," Vierna said. "Alright, we handle him gently, coax him to believe in his freedom, and work on being a proper family," she decreed.

"I like this plan, daughter. And I think he'll prove more resilient than even his clerics believed, once he's been free among others for a while."

"We'll give any aid," Thyl said. "Including coming to get him to take him to the Glade, anytime he needs it. Mielikki seems to think he is someone to help, and that's not to be ignored."

"No, my Lady feels the same," Vierna said. "We will get through to him, and it will be better."

senmut

Imperfect Plans (Perfectly Done) (1800 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: Zaknafein Do'Urden, Vierna Do'Urden, Drizzt Do'Urden
Additional Tags: Drabble Sequence, Family Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Summary:

After making it back from the doomed patrol, Drizzt and family have new issues to face

Demon

Zaknafein weighed the report from Drizzt and Dinin. He read between the lines. There was an emotion in his chest that he wasn't certain how to deal with.

He felt hope. His son, his shining dancer, was still as strange as ever. The school had not broken him! Any other drow would have removed an elder brother.

Dinin knew it. Dinin was both terrified of Drizzt and oddly reluctant to do anything against him.

It was time for Zaknafein to choose; he was choosing his son's life against everything he had ever known and suffered.

He just had to plan.

Vierna was relieved that the events of the demon on the patrol had broken all thought of a raid on the surface. She had time now, time to plot and plan. Hun'ett was likely their enemy, would possibly strike even with the loss of their younger wizard.

No doubt they were already telling lies about how Drizzt had made a bargain with the demon. It didn't matter that Drizzt had banished it; obviously that was a ruse.

She had to think, to make her aborted plans for graduation work. One way or another, she had to get out, with Drizzt.

Drizzt had struggled. He still remembered the fight, knew there was a tension between he and the Weapon Master. Yet, no further attempt had come, as the House prepared for a war.

He didn't understand why there had to be a war. Masoj's hatred of him had seemed petty, but that was done. No, this was apparently what drow were. His mother — the Matron — was speaking of new moves in the future, ones where he, not Zaknafein, led the House warriors.

There was nothing he wanted less. But Drizzt needed to understand if Zaknafein was truly foe, or a friend.

"The fastest way out of the city for our House is up there," Zaknafein said very quietly, as he was guiding Drizzt on a tour of the defenses. Malice wanted the boy acquainted all of his duties, and Zaknafein knew she was plotting his own death, probably to send him against the other Matron with less than perfect spells.

Well, that was going to fall through the cracks.

"It leads into the wilds, but eventually comes to a trade road. Sometimes wonder what might be out there, if a couple of strong fighters ever chose that way."

Had Drizzt understood?

Vierna pulled Drizzt into an alcove, having made a quiet noise to get his attention first. Even she was not brave enough to risk him being on a hair-trigger after his ability to outwit and defeat an abyssal creature.

She tapped her fingers against his wrist. "Dangerous for you to stay. Too strange. Escape when House attacked."

She met his eyes, knowing she was risking everything, but willing him to understand.

He reached with his other hand, covering hers to make it be still, before slipping away from her.

Damn that boy. Had he understood, or was she in danger?

The Weapon Master and his wean-mother sister were being odd, but not in the ways that usually broke his spirit. They both seemed to be urging him to leave the House, in separate, careful ways.

Dinin was avoiding him.

Maya and Briza only ever bothered to notice him with hateful glares, but neither was all that quick to use their whips to menace him. And mother — the Matron — was still using sweet words under the vague threats his way. She wanted his skills in a higher place of the House. That meant Zaknafein was in danger, and Drizzt hated it.

Zaknafein felt the House shake as the assault began. He was nowhere near Drizzt, had no idea if his son had listened. Malice was in his head, demanding he attend her, and his instincts screamed that there was no other chance.

He had to go, had to get out, and after, if he did not find his son in the conflict, he'd make a different path.

The House would not win if he was not here. They did not have a wizard strong enough to contest the Faceless One. Zaknafein headed for the western tunnel, and held his hope tight.

Vierna cursed as she extricated herself from the living attackers, dealt with the undead ones, and hurried to get herself out of the House as quickly as possible. She couldn't even get to the lizard mounts, the way Hun'ett had cracked their defenses.

She kept eyes and ears out for her little brother, for the Weapon Master, but mostly, she gave herself over to survival. Her god would have liked her to preserve both men, yet the knowledge she could bring was just as important.

She cursed her ill-luck in the timing of this, and wished both men to survive.

Drizzt didn't look back. If drow wished to kill drow, he had no place in this city. His eyes and ears stayed out, and he thought he spied two others moving away, but it was difficult to be certain with the magic being thrown around while the city pretended not to notice.

He did aim for the tunnel, but used an oblique approach that kept him in shadows, going above the tunnel instead of rising up to it. He then waited, listening, as he settled on the narrowest foot and hand holds, listening intently and trying not to watch below.

Zaknafein wanted to curse as not his son, but his daughter, made it into the tunnel. He remained perfectly still, knowing he was all but invisible even to her, and watched as she… got a pack out of one of the high niches? She then went back to the edge, looking down briefly, before falling back to a deep shadow to wait.

What was she waiting there for? Why had she abandoned the House? What vile plan of Lloth was she a part of this time?

If his son appeared, he would kill her, if that was what it took.

Vierna was uncertain if it was the lingering danger of the attacks below, or being so far from others, but she felt as if she was not alone. She slipped a hand into her pocket to touch her mask, but did not pull it out. She was still too close to the city.

Her whip and House amulet were in the trunk in her room, and that was a freedom she could revel in. Her ears stayed tuned outward, waiting, hoping. She was uncertain how much time she would give him, but her love for the boy made her stay.

Satisfied that nothing was moving in the tunnel, Drizzt pulled himself over the edge, trusting in his ability to hold to the rock and let himself see.

A pair of red eyes turned up, before Vierna was in motion —

— and a second motion had Drizzt dropping to defend her.

"No!" he hissed, as she spun, and saw the Weapon Master with swords drawn.

"Explain," Zaknafein hissed just as quietly.

"You both tried to make me run. I did. Now, we need to move… and then talk this out," Drizzt reasoned.

The swords vanished, and Zaknafein gestured for them to go.

Vierna stopped as they came to a tighter turn of the tunnel, and Zaknafein almost drew on her again, anticipating an ambush ahead.

"Weapon Master, Drizzt, can you guard this space while I get my bearings?" she asked — not commanded — and that didn't actually help Zak's nerves.

"Drizzt, rear," he ordered, and his son obeyed without opening his mouth. That was at least helpful. He slipped past Vierna, on alert, and didn't hear or see anything. Half his attention was on the tunnel, half on her, especially when she began to reach into a pocket.

She pulled out a mask.

The mask felt warm to the touch, but wasn't visibly so, and Vierna knew that was her god's way of reassuring her. Drizzt held his silence as she lifted it to her face, helping her cast the spell to learn which way to go once they hit the trade road ahead.

She knew the Weapon Master was distrusting it all, but her brother, her strange wean-son, was accepting it all in stride.

When she put the mask away, she arched an eyebrow at Zaknafein, not Drizzt. "Does that help you, Zaknafein?"

"No love for Him, but it's safer for Drizzt."

Drizzt was very confused, but since the Weapon Master relaxed some, he eased his own worries down. "You don't serve the," and he made the profane dying spider gesture, "and you don't actually hate me," he told each one in turn. "So can someone explain what is happening, given I decided to trust both of you?"

Vierna actually giggled, covered it up, and still wound up laughing again. That brought a smile to Zak's face, before he sighed.

"Your sister just pulled off the biggest lie of all, I hate that place, and you don't fit. So we are together."

Zaknafein knew that the symbol couldn't be faked. He checked his son to be sure the boy had known to remove his amulet, took an inventory of what they had on hand.

Both of his children had supplied themselves well, and that showed how committed to this path each was, even if Drizzt had done it on trust alone. He really was very strange, and Zaknafein would kill anyone that tried to break it in the boy.

Vierna's ability to hide herself had all of his pride in this moment, though, and he would follow where she led them, willingly.

The Weapon Master having recognized the symbol of her god had been surprising, but it made Vierna much calmer. No lengthy explanations were needed for him, and she honestly didn't think they'd help Drizzt much. Her little brother took the calm between herself and Zaknafein as enough of a reassurance, and followed, or led, as they made their way to a new life.

Someday, she would have to learn why he was as he was, but that day was not now. Her god had nothing against Drizzt or Zaknafein, and together, they could — would — forge a life that mattered more.

Long gone were the days when Drizzt openly questioned everything. If nothing else, he'd learned patience. His choice to go to the tunnel had paid off; if he just waited for true safety, then he could ask.

Until then, he convinced Zaknafein — his father! — that he was the better lead, more accustomed to the tunnels outside the city, with his patrol time still fresh in his mind. Every step away from Menzoberranzan was a step closer to a better place, one where he would be able to ask all of his questions.

He could wait, and be happy they'd escaped.

Current Mood: calm
Current Music: "Back to the Rivers of Belief" - Enigma

senmut

Care For a Dance? (100 words) by Sharpest_Asp
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Jarlaxle Baenre/Zaknafein Do'Urden
Characters: Jarlaxle Baenre, Zaknafein Do'Urden
Additional Tags: Drabble, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Summary:

A moment, between two of Menzoberranzan's deadliest men

It was a ritual, a rite, maybe a courtship. The duergar and their beasts came, the two men moved in choreographed ease. One to the left, one to the right, back to the center so they could not be wedged apart.

Jarlaxle threw a knife past Zaknafein with inches to spare. Zaknafein lunged, blade skating within a hair's breadth of Jarlaxle's arm to impale a threat.

Twist, turn, and whirl — the rhythm did not let up as each gave their all to this fight, to one another.

The sharing of skill was all they could have, bodies longing for more.

senmut

Family in Exile (2827 words) by Sharpest_Asp
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Vierna Do'Urden, Drizzt Do'Urden, Zaknafein Do'Urden, Original Drow Character(s)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Summary:

Vierna makes a bargain with a dear reward, and eventually finds the other men of her family.

Family in Exile

Vierna had the spell burning in her mind, a gate that she could use once she stepped out of Menzoberranzan's protections. However, she had one set of lingering issues to deal with before she could use it.

Her father and brother had managed to escape, the very night Matron Malice had discovered the crime of allowing a faerie to live. Vierna had thrown every strength she had into hiding her own secrets, and it had taken three years to reach this point.

Those three years had confirmed what she feared happened the night of graduation, something she meant to fix now.

The mercenary gave her a jaunty bow, then passed over the sleeping boy, small enough to yank memories of Drizzt at his most vulnerable to mind. In turn, she passed over the list of dweomer commands, and a lock of Maya's hair.

"Tell the Ghost I'll be looking, when you find him," Jarlaxle said.

"Remember to forget you saw me, until the House falls, or I won't be able to," she answered him with a hard smile, one he returned before she ascended to her escape path.

Rilauven was a challenge, trying to secure her place as well as raise a child on her own. Kastan — the boy had stubbornly insisted that was his name — had been won over by her willingness to answer his questions. Her heart ached, that she had not been able to be this open in teaching Drizzt.

She had to secure her place, though. Reaching out to Zaknafein and Drizzt had to wait, until she had proven her place in the temple hierarchy. She could only lean into her status as a life-long Masked Traitor so much; Vhaeraun expected strong service from His people.

That meant trusting the childcare of the Temple with her nephew, when she had other duties. In that, one of the first to greet her, a cleric called Nalatar, was helpful. They kept the boy, narrowed down a pool of candidates, and helped Vierna choose the acolyte that would best serve her. It was mutually beneficial; Vierna would be expected to teach the acolyte in exchange for the childcare.

Nauven proved that he was more than adept with a child who already knew how to manage his body functions already, and the three of them fell into a rhythm that saw Kastan learning as adeptly as Drizzt had, Nauven progressing in his studies, and Vierna swiftly proving she was every bit the skilled cleric their god had chosen.

Time passed, and Kastan was five years old before she realized it, and she knew she needed to find the rest of their family.

Mantol-Derith had been a starting point. Yet Zaknafein had refused to stay long enough for Drizzt to be seen as odd, or to draw down attention. He got them signed up with traders as arms-men. They kept to themselves, but their reputation built — any wagon they guarded made it to its destination.

They were between jobs, at a small trading post that included most of the races of the Underdark, when Zak felt an intrusion in his mind. He knew it wasn't Malice; he'd felt the ghostly agony of her death at some point in their travels, a last stamp of her on his life from centuries of mind-bonding spells from her.

~Zaknafein, come to Rilauven. It's your daughter, Vierna, and I swear to you on the pirate spiders you gave me that I was never Hers.~

He did not respond to her, though he knew that was part of the spell. No, he looked at his son, trying to decide if it was worth trying to find Bregan D'aerthe to get more information.

"What is it, Father?"

"Nothing to worry over," the elder man said, and shoved the contact to the back of his mind to mull over.

A week of Vierna insistently trying to convince Zak of her integrity and need to see them both had finally made Zaknafein ask a few of the merchants about the city she mentioned every time.

"They overthrew Lolth's clerics," one person said.

"They trade with the surface; it's one of the best cities for acquiring such things as only come from above."

"Every person is counted on their own merit."

"They do it weird — women as true fighters, men as clerics? I hear some women even do magic."

It was food for thought, and after a day stewing on it, Zaknafein found a merchant that would be sending a wagon in that direction soon enough for his liking.

"Next time we roll out," Zak told his son, "we won't be coming back here."

"Why?"

"Heard of a city that might be good for us both, with some … interesting perks."

Drizzt studied him hard. "What perks?"

"It's damned far from Menzoberranzan for one. Two, Lloth doesn't hold full sway there. Three… your sister is there."

That made Drizzt's eyes go wide. "Vierna?" he asked, just to confirm which one, even though their conversations had made it clear that Vierna was his full sister and the only one Zak had ever given a damn about.

"She's been coaxing me to let us go that way for several days now." Zak shrugged. "Don't plan on telling her we are coming, so we can see the city first, and make up our minds then."

Drizzt nodded, full of questions, but knew he'd need to wait for the answers.

Vierna had, of course, made certain guards loyal to the temple of Vhaeraun knew to be the look out for two men wearing equal length blades, probably still wearing their hair loose and pushed back from their faces. Drizzt's purple eyes were a distinctive feature to mark him out further.

She did not, however, immediately go seeking them when she learned two such had rolled in with one of the merchants. The last thing she wanted was to make Zak decide she was a threat.

Still, as days passed, and no message came, she worried. Had the city not met whatever it was Zak was seeking in a place for them? Did he still distrust her too much? Had her strange little brother grown too uncomfortable here and made Zak move them on?

She didn't have message they had left, and yet —

— Zaknafein was not called the Ghost of Menzoberranzan for nothing.

She would just have to be patient, at least a month, and see if the men she dearly loved came to find her. She said nothing to Kastan, now a boy of six, but did tell Nauven that if a message came, he was to pass it to her wherever she was, short of deep ritual.

Zak didn't start the trouble. Drizzt wasn't even the direct catalyst other than existing.

He had paid attention to the prohibition on killing other drow, when the obviously Lolthite woman in her spider-embroidered robes laid hands on his son, while her guards chivvied him. Zaknafein, master of every weapon he had ever touched —

— didn't need one to make a point.

Three guards were down, the fourth was struggling to get back to his feet, and Drizzt had already broken the woman's grip, maybe her hand, to get away.

"What's going on?" the newest person demanded, a woman herself, flanked by two men, all three clad in the city's guardian piwafwis.

"The young one is a thief," the Lolthite insisted.

"I have nothing I did not come to this city with," Drizzt said in a low tone. "I had trailed back from my father to look at that merchant's wares," he added, pointing in the direction of the market table.

"He lies," the guard that was not unconscious said.

"We'll take truth spells, in the presence of whoever decides these things," Zak rumbled. "As the four here immediately cut me off from my son, when she touched him unprovoked."

"Saer?" the leader of the city guardians invited. "Are you so willing, or do you withdraw your objection?"

Her comrades were studying the fallen three, fast hand-signs passing between them. Zak thought they were noticing he had not used crossbow bolts to render them non-threats.

"Perhaps my eyes deceived me," the Lolthite said. She then looked at her unconscious guards, rolled her eyes, and turned her back on them, with the fourth one hurrying to try to keep up with her.

Zak then looked at the guardians then. "Are we free to go?"

"I guess, unless you're looking to hire on as one of us; that was quick work."

"He's my only son," Zaknafein answered that, to judge how they understood it.

She winced, and the other two nodded. "You did well, abiding by the law. Go your own way."

"Enjoy your duty," Zak answered that, before guiding Drizzt toward the hostel they were staying at.

"Why?" Drizzt asked once they were away.

"Either the Spider-bitch set a plan in motion, or she just thought you would be pretty in her bed."

Drizzt's ashen features at the latter part of that concerned Zak… and then he remembered what graduation was like.

"I think we should go find your sister, as we just made an enemy."

"Alright," Drizzt agreed in the quietest voice Zak had ever heard from him. That just added to the alarm bells, and made Zak start puzzling at how to ease his gentle dancer over the trauma.

Fortunately — or because her god truly favored her — Vierna was in quarters when the message came that she had visitors.

"Kastan, do behave," she told her nephew, raised as a son. This habit of raising male relatives from a young age was amusing to her.

"I will." He didn't even look up from painstakingly copying the lesson Nauven had left for him this evening.

Vierna secured her maces, stepped out of the apartment, locked the door behind her, and headed for the entryway of the temple. She kept herself as calm as she could, making herself not move with any haste at all.

If it was not her father and brother, she might be cross with whomever it was, though!

Drizzt waited just behind his father's shoulder, and watched as Vierna came into view, wearing robes that were far more concealing, and embroidered in bats instead of spiders. He still wasn't sure what he thought of Lloth's son, but He at least seemed to value drow lives, and that was better than what they had left.

His sister looked radiant! She was smiling, and it was in her eyes! There was no coldness to her at all, and Drizzt began to believe, maybe, really, they could be a true family with her!

"Father. Drizzt, my brother," she said, and Drizzt caught the faintest release of tension as Vierna openly acknowledged Zak as her father!

"My student," Zaknafein said in a lazy drawl.

"Vehna," Drizzt said, mischief in his eyes.

She laughed. She laughed freely and warmly and then reached for a hand from both of them! Drizzt gave his quickly, and Zak followed suit, each getting their hands squeezed.

"I am so very glad you have both made it here," she told them. "Come, let's get out of the entry and go talk about the last few years, hmm?"

"Alright," Zak agreed, and they followed her into the Temple.

Behind closed doors, Vierna startled Zak further by wrapping a fierce hug around Drizzt, then turning to him. It was clear she wanted to — and he allowed it. Holding his daughter, hugging her tight to his chest, eased decades' old pain. She truly was free and whole and not part of all he hated.

"Sit, both of you. Before I take you back to my apartment here, I need to explain something. But first, I want to hear all about your lives since you made Malice the angriest I have ever seen her in my life."

Zak snorted. "Not much to say. We went to find work with traders, so we could keep moving. Have to say, your teaching, my teaching, the school… none of it made a drow out of Drizzt and I'm damned glad of it."

Vierna sighed and ran a hand over her braids with wry frustration. "He made it very hard to be true to my god, and not get both of us killed!"

"I'm sorry, Vierna," Drizzt said. "I figured out, later, just how different you were, but … I am me."

"So you are, little brother, and I think I want that as much as Father seems to." She smiled at him.

"You?"

Vierna looked back to Zak for that single word. "Three years to engineer my escape, to make certain I wasn't leaving a death hunt at my back," she said. "And that included making a bargain with Bregan D'aerthe.

"Jarlaxle said he will be looking for you," she told Zaknafein, who nodded, expecting that.

"We go back," he told Drizzt who had tensed.

"Quite personally even," Vierna teased lightly. "I had something to acquire, he had orders to set things in motion for Malice's fall. We concluded our deal, my god gave me a spell to escape once I left the city wards, and here I am."

She then shifted to get an arm around her brother, having sat down beside him on purpose. "Drizzt, I remember how… withdrawn you were, after school."

He looked away, not wanting a second reminder of that so soon, but she put her hand under his chin and drew his face back around.

"Something good came of it." She put her forehead to his. "You have a son — I might should say we do, just not traditionally."

"WHAT?!"

"A boy child came of it. He was what I named as my price for the aid I gave," Vierna told him. "I've raised him here. His name is Kastan. And I think he's going to be more like you than like me."

Zak moved from chair to the narrow spot on Drizzt's other side, hand going to his back. "Easy, my son," he soothed, watching the heavy emotions wrestle through Drizzt's corded muscles, before he finally managed to bring them under his control.

It hadn't even taken as long as Zak expected, making him proud again.

"I have a son, named Kastan, and he is like me," Drizzt said in more wonder than anything else. "When can I meet him? Does he know about me? Is he going to let me be his father? Does he have the dual-handed gift? Do you think he'll want to be a fighter?"

Zak had to chuckle as all those questions proved Drizzt had landed on his feet with the new situation. They would stay, and be a family, to Zak's glad relief.

Kastan looked up as his mama — aunt and he knew it but she'd said it was okay to be 'mama' — came back in with two men behind her. One, a fierce drow warrior with normal red eyes settled with his back to the wall once the door was shut and locked.

The other, though, had all of Kastan's attention. He was more slender in some ways than the first and, most importantly, his eyes were purple!

Kastan looked at Mama, who nodded once, and he stood up to go to the purple-eyed man — HIS FATHER?! — to meet him. Surprisingly, his father dropped to kneel, so he was more level with Kastan's height.

"You're Drizzt."

That got a silent nod.

"My father?"

The purple eyes were a little damp, but "yes" came out of his mouth.

Kastan stopped just inside of Drizzt's reach, feeling awkward all of a sudden, but the man opened his body, arms out but reaching, and that made up Kastan's mind. Like Mama, this drow hugged, and he liked hugs.

He didn't even mind when Drizzt settled back, dragging him into his lap, even if Kastan was really too old for that, because the song was singing a little louder, and he knew this was going to be even better than having Nauven teaching him.

"Hi."

"Hello, my son."

Drizzt and Kastan had gone to bed, leaving Vierna and Zaknafein in the main room.

"You've done so well, my daughter," he told her quietly. "We will stay, but you should know that Drizzt is nothing like even the people you've seen in this city."

Vierna sighed. "Neither is Kastan, though Kastan has had little reason to rub raw against it, like little brother did," she admitted. "Vhaeraun has decreed that even though Kastan hears His blessed Sister, that it serves a purpose, in time.

"And He's never been able to see Drizzt, which I think is why He was willing to not make me send Kastan to the goodly ones."

Zak sighed. "Well, let's keep them both safe here, as long as we can, and worry about that later."

"Yes, we will. Until then? We are together, and can learn the right way to be a family," Vierna decreed, with his full approval.

somariel

Your Lives and Places Rearrange (4422 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, Zaknafein Do'Urden, Original Drow Character(s), Jarlaxle Baenre
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ensemble Cast
Series: Part 6 of Have Your Cake, Part 18 of A Crossing of the Realms
Summary:

Just when it all seems settled, more?

Beginning notes

Inspired by

senmut's fic Profitable Plans.

It assumes familiarity with that fic, and the previous fics in the Have Your Cake series.

Additionally, Drizzt's meeting with the svirfneblin borrows heavily from

senmut's fic "War Comes to the Hall".

Your Lives and Places Rearrange

1359 DR, spring

Drizzt was at Spirit Sanctuary, discussing with Vierna and the other clerics there the sense of 'trouble approaching' that all of them had been feeling for the last week or so, when Sarilanthe came and interrupted them.

"Drizzt," she said, "Lothalninil just landed on the ledge, and is being insistent about needing you."

Drizzt sighed, and after casting a look of apology at Vierna, he rose and followed Sarilanthe out to where Lothalninil was.

And when he arrived, he reached out to his nest-mate, rested a hand on her neck, and asked, "What do you need me for, dear one?"

Her impatient snort was accompanied by a sense of 'young herd-friend calls, is concerned; dwarf hall needs you'.

Turning his attention back to Sarilanthe, Drizzt told her, "Catti-brie says I'm needed at the Hall."

"I'll pass that on to Vierna," she replied. "Now go."

"Thank you." And then Drizzt got onto his nest-mate's back.

As soon as he was as safely settled as he could be without the straps, Lothalninil carefully trotted into the air, and turned to take the shortest route to the nearest entrance to the Hall.

She landed in Keeper's Dale not long after, and Catti-brie herself was waiting to bring Drizzt to where he was needed.

The dwarf-raised young woman set off into the Hall at a brisk pace once Drizzt reached her side, and as they began to head downwards rather than towards any of the meeting rooms, Drizzt asked what he was needed for.

"Refugees from the Underdark just arrived," Catti-brie answered. "One o' them matches yer description of yer friend Belwar an' asked fer ye by name, but we'd've sent for ye e'en wi'out that, as none o' us speak Undercommon."

"That the residents of Blingdenstone have come as refugees does not bode well," Drizzt said, "and make me wonder if this is a harbinger of the trouble Eilistraee has been warning of."

"Could be," Catti-brie agreed, "could be. And nay, it doesnae bode well at all."

The rest of the trip down to the Hall's lowest protected level passed in silence, but upon arriving in the area where the refugees had temporarily been settled, Drizzt was almost immediately greeted in Undercommon.

"Magga cammara, my friend, it is good to see you again!"

Turning his attention from the svirfneblin as a whole to the speaker, Drizzt's face broke out in a wide smile.

"And I am pleased to see you again, Belwar Dissengulp," he replied. "But what has caused your people to travel so far from your city with women, children, and personal possessions, but so few actual warriors?"

Belwar turned and looked at another male who had been paying close attention to their exchange, and that one came to join them.

"I am Councilor Firble," he said. "Blingdenstone is no more. When the duergar attempted to invade some years ago, we won against them and learned from prisoners of the fall of the Living Shadow that had been here.

"But Menzoberranzan also captured some of the duergar, and we had been in active conflict with the city since then... until a couple weeks ago, when they chose to attack Blingdenstone directly, through spells and treachery.

"King Schnicktick and most of our actual warriors gave us time to bring our people away, but Blingdenstone is lost, destroyed to kill as many of Menzoberranzan's attackers as we could. With luck, it will set their plans back, but my contacts I had said the city seeks conquest."

"The same contacts that provided the information that my mother was still seeking me, back when I first came to Blingdenstone?" Drizzt asked.

"Yes."

"Then please pardon me while I share this with my allies."

Stepping off to the side as a line of dwarves bringing food, medicine, and even carts of water for cleaning came into view, Drizzt relayed everything Firble had said to General Dagna, who started stroking his beard nervously.

"A war with drow, when they have such magic," Dagna began, "does not bode well at all."

"We will find a way," Drizzt said. "For one thing, the Lady of Silverymoon will no more wish to have evil drow as neighbors than she wished to have the dragon as one, and will provide aid to that end for a reasonable price. And furthermore, I can ask my father to come put his centuries of experience with House Wars in Menzoberranzan to use in advising on defenses."

"The king's the one who'd need tae approve both o' those," Dagna said, "but aye, ye do have a point.

"And he ought tae be arriving soon, since I asked the Princess to fetch him soon as you greeted that first deep gnome by name. One o' them knowin' yers could've been from hearing of ye, but I knew you knowin' his couldnae mean anything good."

Drizzt nodded in reply, then moved back towards his friend. "Belwar," he said, "who is your worst hurt? I am no true healer, but I have learned the spells of my calling well enough to handle one, make them more stable."

After giving him a surprised look, Belwar exchanged words with Firble, and then they brought him over to a wizened old male, who was heavily bandaged and breathing poorly.

"Our oldest shaman that came with us," Firble said. "He has the lore of when we traded here."

Drizzt knelt at the elder's side, and touched his pendant with one hand. He then placed a hand on the shaman's shoulder, and willed him to heal.

They all heard the agonized breathing clear, and saw as the body relaxed toward sleep. Drizzt watched the chest rise and fall with pleasure, then turned his attention back to Firble and Belwar.

"I am certain the clerics will come down, add to the healing," he said, "but my goddesses saw this use of my minor ability in it as a good one.

"Dagna has already sent for Bruenor Battlehammer, and though some immediate attention will need to be given to decisions for defense, once that is taken care of, I am certain he will help your people settle here."

"If you think it will be helpful," Firble said, "we will share our own knowledge of Menzoberranzan, to help him prepare for their attack."

"Current information about the city will be quite useful indeed," Drizzt agreed. "As we have very little knowledge more recent than my own escape."

Samiar had, of course, noticed when the wards alerted him to Drizzt's arrival, but Zanna had been intent enough on learning the cantrip he was currently teaching her that he had chosen not to say anything.

And now, with Drizzt entering right as it felt like Zanna was about to succeed in casting it, he was glad he had.

Holding a finger to his lips to indicate Drizzt should remain silent for now, Samiar watched as their daughter once again tried to cast mending... and this time, the broken pottery bowl that he had given her to practice on restored itself to wholeness.

Just as Zanna raised her head to smile at her elder father in glee for having gotten the cantrip to work right this time, a soft clapping started behind her.

But before she could even turn to see who had arrived, a very familiar voice spoke. "Well done, Zanna."

Nearly tumbling out of the chair with how fast she whirled around, Zanna launched herself at the speaker.

"Papa!"

Drizzt opened his arms to accepted Zanna's flying hug, and took a moment to just revel in the fact that she could be so openly expressive of her feelings.

Samiar knew better than to interrupt Zanna's hug of Drizzt, especially when his co-parent looked so blissful, but once all three of them were settled on the couch, he asked, "So what brings you here when you had expected to be busy at Spirit Sanctuary?"

"Trouble at the Hall that you, and maybe even Zanna, could assist in handling," Drizzt replied.

Samiar frowned slightly at the idea of involving their daughter with anything that Drizzt would consider trouble, but before he could say anything, Zanna spoke up from her seat between them.

"You really think I could help?" she said, all but bouncing with excitement for the chance to help with adult matters.

"If you think your Undercommon is good enough for you to act as an interpreter between dwarves and svirfneblin, then yes, I do," Drizzt said.

Zanna took a few moments to properly consider the idea, then smiled brightly. "I do!"

Samiar had chosen to wait for Zanna to respond before he said anything more, but once she had, he asked the obvious question. "You wouldn't have called a svirfneblin trading party trouble, so what is it that has happened at the Hall?"

"Well..." and Drizzt began to explain what had happened since Sarilanthe had interrupted his meeting with the clerics.

The threat of a drow invasion—especially given Zaknafein's assessment that with Menzoberranzan apparently united in this purpose, the damage the svirfneblin had done to the city's forces would not delay things by more than a few weeks—made things move swiftly, and within two weeks of the refugees' arrival, Mithral Hall was well prepared to face the drow.

Traps both magical and physical had been placed according to Zaknafein's suggestions, clefts and tiny passages had been closed off to prevent their use by shadow-form drow, and Knights in Silver and Spellguards were both camped outside the Surbrin Gate and lodged in Settlestone, with small bands of warriors from the region's other powers also hosted there or on their way.

At that point, there was nothing more to do than wait, but thankfully for everyone's nerves, it was only another week and a half before the attack came.

Given how thoroughly effective the dwarves' placement of their traps had been, Jarlaxle was quite glad he had agreed to Dinin's demand that he and Kastan be placed in Bregan D'aerthe's reserves for this battle.

After all, it would not do in the least for him to lose his bargaining piece to one of those traps. Which were in fact so effectively placed that if he didn't know better, he would have believed Zaknafein himself had advised on their placement.

As it was, it was clear that he had underestimated just how ruthless the renegade could be.

But with magic as unpredictable as it was, it was clearly time for him to signal his people to retreat, and even as he did so and began to extricate himself, he saw the renegade heading in a specific direction, accompanied by a dwarf, a human woman, and two half-elves.

Well then. It would be interesting to see if any of the Matrons managed to escape in time.

When the gods were restored to their proper places, the residents of Spirit Sanctuary had been just as relieved as those of Silverymoon and Mithral Hall.

But though they had done their best to settle back into the usual routine, when Vierna asked for someone to go make contact with a young drow in the hills to their east, just a few weeks later, there was a general feeling of unease over such an occurrence happening so soon after both the Time of Troubles and Menzoberranzan's attempted invasion of the Hall.

Drizzt immediately suggested that he should be the one to do so, and had a strong argument for such in the fact that, unlike the rest of Spirit Sanctuary's drow residents, he was already known to be in the area, but both Vierna and Zaknafein were concerned about the possibility of a trap for that same reason.

However, despite that concern, after a long discussion, Drizzt won the argument, with an agreement that Zaknafein would come with him as backup, but remain concealed unless circumstances required him to reveal his presence.

As much as Zaknafein would have liked to hide somewhat closer to where Drizzt was going to conceal himself before opening dialogue with the young drow in this pocket valley, he could not deny that his own woodscraft skills were not good enough to successfully hide in the copse of trees near the closed end of the valley, so he had to settle for this cleft angling towards the newcomer from the other side of the valley.

And just as he reached the point where he had to stop to remain concealed in the cleft's shadows, he heard the owl call that he and Drizzt had agreed on as the signal for when each of them was in place.

So even as he settled himself where he could see the young drow—who had tensed up and started looking around even as Zak did so—he gave his own call

And as soon as the sound faded from the air, his son spoke.

"You have a good awareness of what is around you," Drizzt said, even as the boy tried to turn towards the voice, "for one new to the surface.

"I do not wish trouble with you, so please tell me your purpose in being here."

The boy's hand had moved to the hilt of his longer blade—and Zak found it interesting that the shorter one was longer than the typical dagger, though not to the full length of a short sword—while Drizzt was speaking, and when Drizzt finished, the boy spoke.

"I am going to be honest then, and state there is another who will come, probably two," he said. "We are looking for another drow, and there is solely a business deal the others are interested in."

Well. Zak had to give the boy points for that honesty, and it made it at least possible that for all the boy was very much bait, it was not for a trap. And also likely meant that the shift of the boy's hand to his hilt had been cover for touching a sending stone.

"So you are bait." Drizzt's voice was weary but resigned, and Zak couldn't blame him. "Unless you seek someone other than Drizzt Do'Urden, which is unlikely, as there are few drow who wander, and no others known in this region."

"I do, and I believe the one I am working with, or I would not have helped," the boy replied.

That was another notch towards this not being a trap, but before Zak could start to consider what the business deal mentioned might be, there was a shimmer and displacement of air which cleared to reveal Jarlaxle and a wizard.

"You?!"

The vitriol in Drizzt's voice was surprising to Zak, but after a moment he realized his son must have seen Jarlaxle during the attempt to invade the Hall.

"What is it you soft surface folk say? I'm here to parlay," Jarlaxle said, sweeping his hat from his head with a dramatic bow.

"Test me, and you will learn there is nothing soft to me."

Jarlaxle laughed brightly. "Oh you are Zaknafein's child after all."

And that comment made Zak suspect he knew what his old friend and lover was after, but it would be better to be certain before he revealed himself—he would only get one chance to surprise Jarlaxle, after all—and besides, he wanted to see what approach his friend took.

"If you know enough to know that, you also ought to know that using his name will not gain you anything with me."

"Not even if the whole reason I wish to talk with you is for his sake?" Jarlaxle purred.

That all but confirmed Zak's suspicion as to what his friend was after, but he still chose to remain hidden, curious as to how everything would play out.

And after a very long silence, Drizzt walked out of the copse, from a spot that Zak would have sworn was unoccupied.

"There is no 'sake' for my father," he said, gaze clearly locked on Jarlaxle.

"Are you so certain?"

"I do not know who you are," Drizzt began patiently, though Zak could hear a touch of patronizing inflections in his son's voice, "but given that you clearly know quite a bit about me, do you really think that I would do or say anything about the man that trained me—to a drow I know full well participated in Menzoberranzan's attack on Mithral Hall, due to having seen him there?"

Jarlaxle merely smiled, then chuckled. "Well, the lack of introduction is easily remedied, at least. I am Jarlaxle, leader of Bregan D'aerthe.

"As for your question... You are an idealist, and principled in ways I will never understand. But I didn't always understand your father.

"I am a drow, Drizzt Do'Urden! I do as I must to survive, and to place a small measure of protection around men that require it in the city that birthed us both! Let us start anew, and discuss the matter at hand without shadows, hmm?"

Zak braced himself, knowing that Drizzt was unlikely to react well to Jarlaxle's statement, but not sure how it would expressed.

"A pity," Drizzt began, his voice as taught as Zak knew his son's face must be, "that your reach is not long enough to shield more, then."

Even without the wizard's tensing at Drizzt's words, Zak knew that Drizzt had just hit on one of Jarlaxle's sore spots with regards to their friendship, and waited with bated breath to see how his friend responded.

"He refused me, time and again, even after your sister disappeared, and then... then there was you."

Jarlaxle's quiet words carried a punch well out of proportion to their volume, given all the ways that Drizzt's body language lost its hardness to shock, and Zak held his breath for his son's response.

"What do you want to know?" Drizzt asked.

That was as good as Zak could have hoped for, and he quietly released the breath.

"What happened to Zaknafein after your mother, the late and very unlamented Malice Do'Urden, wreaked that spell upon his body?" Jarlaxle asked.

"She failed," Drizzt said flatly.

"More words, renegade," Jarlaxle entreated with an edge of impatience.

Drizzt leaned against the nearest tree, and Zak could tell from his posture that his son was considering his next words.

"Why? What do you gain?"

Jarlaxle snorted. "Have you learned how to do business? Fascinating." He half-shrugged. "I wish the knowledge, and depending on what it is, there may be further steps. I gain a sense of closure, and open new avenues, perhaps."

Zak knew his son well enough to know that Drizzt would not be reassured by such a vague answer, but despite a distinct rise in the tension in the air, Drizzt still gave Jarlaxle the information the mercenary had asked for.

"There is no body left. Zaknafein took control back of the body, and destroyed it."

"How... trying of him," Jarlaxle said with irritation. "Where? For my own peace of mind? You wouldn't want to leave an old friend of your father's tortured, now would you?"

"If you know where the hopefully former city of illithids near enough to Blingdenstone and Menzoberranzan for us to wander there is, then that is the location." Even from his position, Zak could tell when Drizzt met Jarlaxle's gaze before continuing. "The acid lake outside the city. The zin-carla caught up to us after we had damaged the elder brain severely, and killed many of the mind flayers."

The tone of Drizzt's last sentence made it clear it was as much threat as it was information, and Zak waited cautiously to see how his friend would respond.

Jarlaxle muttered something quietly enough that Zak was only able to tell he had by the movement of his lips, then sighed. "That makes this much more costly, I must admit."

"He said he was at peace, Jarlaxle," Drizzt said, and while Zak doubted Jarlaxle would notice it, he could hear wariness in his son's voice as much as dislike of Jarlaxle's clear intentions.

"Yes, but would you deny him a chance to live as free as you have been? Are you that selfish in your escape from Menzoberranzan?!" the mercenary snapped in a low, quiet voice.

And if that wasn't a perfect opening for Zak to reveal himself, he didn't know what was.

"He isn't," Zak said, stepping out of the cleft and into the open. "But he is understandably wary of your intentions, old friend."

Jarlaxle's entire body jerked taught at Zak's first word, but by the time his friend had turned to face Zak fully, he had managed to place a laconic look on his face.

But despite that, Zak knew full well that Jarlaxle would not truly believe what he was seeing until Zak proved his identity.

So once he had reached arm's length from his friend, Zak asked, "When's the last time you had to be pulled out of the fire by an upstart from a low House?"

I would have have found a way to survive."

"You perhaps, but the men you had? Hardly."

As Zak had known it would be, that was sufficient proof, and Jarlaxle moved to embrace him.

It was Drizzt's uneasy shifting, caught out of the corner of his eye, that caused Zak to end the embrace, and once he and Jarlaxle had parted, his friend spoke. "Blood and breath, Zak, it's good to see you. But as much as I want to catch up with you, I'd rather not do out here."

"Neither would I," Zak said, "so how about meeting in Skullport in two months?"

"Agreed," Jarlaxle said. "And with that settled, I should make introductions." Flicking a hand at the boy he'd used as bait, he continued, "Zak, Drizzt, this is Kastan. He was born the year after Drizzt graduated, to a priestess that graduated that year."

Zak saw Drizzt's eyes widen slightly at that statement, before his son managed to put on a stoic mask. Nor could he blame Drizzt for it, given the implications in Jarlaxle's words.

"And he is a good drow." And for all it was said as a fact, Zak could hear the question in the words.

"Very much like his father," Jarlaxle agreed. "And in more ways than just that."

"You've had someone teaching him left-handed fighting, then?" Zak said. "Given the longer than usual dagger."

"Dinin was most compliant with my wishes on that matter," Jarlaxle agreed. "Also, I know you'll have your own people check, but I did have my newly acquired psionicist look for nasty traps. Removed at least one.

"And if you want to keep in touch, I'm sure Kastan would be willing to give you the sending stone I provided for this."

"Good to know, for both," Zak said. "And if there isn't anything else, then it's probably time to part for now."

That got nods all around, and then Jarlaxle and the wizard disappeared in another shimmering of the air.

Although Vierna had chosen to occupy herself in her workroom as a distraction from fretting over Drizzt and Zak going to meet the young drow, her worries were still close enough to the surface that she immediately paused what she was doing at the sound of a knock on the door.

"Come in," she called, even as she turned her attention to putting away the materials she had been working with.

The door opened, and her visitor entered, but just a few steps into the room, they stopped. "Am I interrupting something?"

The words were in Drizzt's voice, so Vierna turned to face him, and immediately let out a sigh of relief on seeing that he did not appear to be upset. A bit perturbed, maybe, but not upset, which meant that the meeting had to have gone well.

"Not at all," she replied. "I was just puttering to keep myself from worrying. Where's Father, though?"

"With the young drow we went to meet," Drizzt said. "Neither of us is truly comfortable bringing him here until his mind has been checked for traps, so I came to bring you to him to do so."

"Can you tell me why you think that's necessary?" But even as she asked, Vierna was moving towards the door.

"He's my son," Drizzt answered.

Well, that would explain why he seemed a bit perturbed, but not the need to check for traps.

Oblivious to her thoughts, however, Drizzt continued. "And he's known himself to be such for long enough that it is all too likely that someone sought to make him an unwitting weapon against me."

Vierna couldn't help but wince at that. "I can see how that would appeal to a Lolthite priestess.

"It would, after all, just be a delayed form of our original concerns."

"And it turned out that you and Father were half right."

Drizzt's voice was wry, and Vierna paused in her walking to turn and look directly at him. "Half right?"

"He was bait, but not for a trap."

Vierna raised an eyebrow at her brother, and he elaborated. "An old friend of Father's wanted a parlay with me, to discuss the possibility of resurrecting Father."

"So how surprised was this friend, when Father revealed himself?"

"Enough that he couldn't conceal it, which Father says is rather significant for him."

Their walking as they spoke had now brought them out to where Lothalninil was waiting, so rather than reply, Vierna went and offered pets and scratches to her brother's nest-mate.

And when she had finished, she mounted up behind Drizzt, who had done so while she was giving Lothalninil her attention.

Kastan had initially been somewhat wary of the idea of allowing a female drow cleric to potentially meddle with his mind, but between the casual way she interacted with Drizzt and Zak, and her respect for his wariness, it didn't take all that long for him to become easy enough with Vierna that he was comfortable with her checking him for traps.

And as it turned out, while there had been traps, they had been rather thoroughly broken—most likely by the Time of Troubles was the consensus among Zak and his children—and Vierna was familiar enough with arcane magic to say with confidence that there was no sign of that sort of tampering.

So once Vierna and Kastan had had a chance to settle from the search and the removal of the broken traps, the four Do'Urdens headed back to Spirit Sanctuary, to begin properly introducing Kastan to the residents and to Surface life.

senmut

Strange Son (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: Drizzt Do'Urden, Zaknafein Do'Urden
Additional Tags: Drabble
Summary:

Zak will never be comfortable Above.

The sun, Zak had decided, was as awful as Lolth Herself. The moon was only slightly better in that it didn't radiate heat as well as light. The stars? They danced in his vision and that was too distracting.

He tried, really, to see what drew his son to live under it all. He would even admit that the discomfort — outright pain — was worth it to see Drizzt smiling freely.

Still, he would never be a true surface drow. He needed solid rock, the comfort and ease of light being provided by faerie fire.

Drizzt was just strange in this.

somariel

A Curse Here, a Blessing There (4355 words) by Somariel
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Drizzt Do'Urden, Original Elf Character(s), Alustriel Silverhand, Vierna Do'Urden, Zaknafein Do'Urden, Inthylyn Aerasumé
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Past Rape/Non-con
Series: Part 4 of Have Your Cake, Part 16 of A Crossing of the Realms
Summary:

Maybe the family isn’t big enough…

Beginning notes

This fic was inspired by

senmut and

ilyena_sylph's fic Making the Most of Magical Mayhem and my fic Magical Mayhem with a Pegasus.

It assumes familiarity with those fics, and the previous fics in the Have Your Cake series.

A Curse Here, a Blessing There

1343 DR

Samiar knew, perfectly well, that drow were excellent liars, and one might be using tongues to speak, but… he also knew that it was not possible to fool a pegasus’s innate sense of a person’s nature. Even so, he still twitched his fingers through the motion for detect thoughts, focusing on the drow. "Drizzt Do’Urden, hm? Well, at least we are even on the matter of names, now, though I still do not know the name of your friend there.

"But what curse troubles you, that your own people could not deal with better than I?" The phrasing of his question was deliberate, as even though Drizzt was very clearly not evil, it was still possible that he was neutral, and a Vhaeraunite scout or information gatherer.

"My friend is called Lothalninil," Drizzt said. "As for my people, while the Dark Maiden has been good to me and my family since each of us escaped the Underdark, I remain wary of divine intervention in my life, nor do I wish to develop a habit of relying on those whom my ranging may have taken me quite far from."

That was the truth and nothing but, Samiar felt, reading the truth of the 'no divine intervention' and the 'don't want to depend on family' alike, though a stubborn thread of 'got myself into this, I'll get myself out of it' was woven through the latter. "And the curse?"

"I made a mistake in the last set of ruins I cleared. While I could feel magic, it did not feel innately tainted or wrong, and the box I took from there called to me, for it was inlaid with a cat much like my companion that drew you here."

Drizzt dropped his eyes, and Lothalninil bumped her nose against his chest. "The curse upon it escaped as I opened the box, and now… I need aid."

"You appear to be healthy enough," Samiar said curiously, raising a brow, then flicked his fingers, "no, no. Come, we will talk within my home."

If the pegasus—Lothalninil, he reminded himself—had not been present, he would have cast an arcane eye to keep an eye on Drizzt Do’Urden as he led the way to his tower, but she was, so he was willing to place enough trust in her goodly nature to expose his back to Drizzt.

Sharing drow culture and society notes, the language and writing examples, was familiar to Drizzt from the time he had spent doing the same with Sharr, whom he very much felt would get along quite well with Samiar.

It wasn't until Sam chose to share the tale of one of his youthful misadventures, however, that Drizzt realized just how correct that thought was. Because the other two elves featured in the tale were Samiar's cousin Sharr, and Sharr's friend Kor.

But although the likelihood of there being two such groups with both that structure and those names was vanishingly small, once Sam had finished the tale, Drizzt asked, just to confirm things, "Do you mean Sharrevaliir Silverhand and Korvallen Senahye?"

"Why, yes. How do-" Sam broke off abruptly and stared at Drizzt as the family names sank in. "Wait, Silverhand?!? Is that actually El-, I mean Alustriel, up in Silverymoon, then?"

Not sure what Sam's source of confusion might be, Drizzt chose to answer in the way he thought would have the least chance of being misunderstood. "Silverymoon's current ruler is Sharr's human consort, if that's what you're asking."

"Then we're going up there. If I'd known that really is Alustriel, I would have sought her and Sharr's assistance from the beginning."

As curious as Alustriel was about the guest that Drizzt had called an old friend of both her and Sharr, the timing of the page's message delivery had been such that she could not actually go find out until after evenfeast.

And now, having changed from her evenfeast gown to something more casual, she stood at the door to Drizzt's rooms and knocked.

"Come in" was called in Drizzt's voice—though, for some reason, it sounded higher than usual—so she let herself in.

As she entered, Drizzt and his guest were busy comparing the papers scattered across the table they were sitting at, but before she could do more than register that the guest was a sun elf, they both turned their attention to her, and she gasped in surprise.

"Samiar?!"

"Hello, Elué," he said, even as he got up and came over to her with his hands outstretched in greeting.

Bypassing any sort of hand clasp, Alustriel embraced Sharr's cousin tightly. He returned the hug with equal vigor, and they held it for a long moment.

When they mutually released the embrace, Alustriel took a step back, and reached out to clasp his hands. "It's so good to see you again. But how in the world did Drizzt find you?"

"He was looking for a cursebreaker," Samiar replied.

At that, Alustriel turned her attention to Drizzt, and had to stifle a gasp. Because though she could tell it was still Drizzt sitting at the table, he now had a female body.

"How are you, Drizzt?" she asked.

"Uncomfortable."

"Understandably." Then she turned back to Samiar. "It's easy to see why you wish to consult with me, but what is it about this matter that has you wishing to consult with Sharr?"

"The inscription inside the damned box that was the trigger is in Seldruin."

"And when I unknowingly triggered the curse by opening the box, the whispered words that accompanied it sounded vaguely familiar from my work with Sharr on comparing Seldruin with Drow," Drizzt added.

Alustriel nodded her understanding. "Well, I'd be asking him to come with Kor anyway, simply because of Sam's return, but I'll make sure to tell him Sam brought a translation challenge with him."

Drizzt had been insistent that Samiar should take some time to actually catch up with his family, so once the cursed box had been secured in the workroom Taern had set aside for Sam and Sharr in the Spell Tower, it was several days before any more attention was given to the matter.

The first day that Sam and Sharr worked on translating the inscription went well enough, with the box safely contained in an anti-magic field, but on the second day, Sharr happened to arrive at the workroom before Sam did.

Since both he and Sam had received a copy of the key for the workroom, Sharr chose to enter anyway, and settled down to review the previous day's notes.

He had not gotten very far into them, however, when an explosion in the adjacent workroom rattled the door and shook the furniture.

Setting the notes aside, Sharr stood up and turned to scan the rest of the room for anything else that might have been disturbed.

Movement on the central table caught his eye, and he experienced a frozen moment of shock as the cursed box slid over the edge of the table.

Then instinct kicked in, and he lunged to catch it. He only just managed to do so, grabbing it a bit below the visible line near the top.

And then, much to his horror, a seam appeared below where he had grabbed it, and the box swung open.

Samiar had just exited the stairs onto the level that held the workroom reserved for his and Sharr's work with the cursed box, when a door-rattling boom sounded from the other end of the hallway—which was where their borrowed workroom was.

Concerned over what effect the probable explosion might have had on the organization of yesterday's notes, Sam increased his pace down the hall.

Very shortly, he had reached the workroom, and was reaching for his key when he noticed that the door was not quite closed.

Knowing that had to mean that Sharr had arrived before him, Sam let go of his concerns about the notes, and opened the door.

But he had not gotten more than a couple of steps into the workroom before he noticed something of far greater concern.

Sharr was lying motionless on the floor, his head almost under the central table, with the cursed box close enough to his hands that it had to have been in them when he collapsed. But the most concerning thing was that Sharr had very clearly been struck by the box's curse.

Sighing, Sam stepped back out of the workroom, and knocked on the door of the adjacent one.

It was opened fairly quickly by a human male who looked to be on the younger side even for humans.

"Yes?" the young man said, a distinct note of nervousness in his voice. Which was not truly surprising, as Sam recalled Taern saying that the workrooms used for doing anything likely to explode were in a different area.

"Samiar Ravarel. Am I correct in thinking that you were responsible for the recent explosion?"

"Stordan Helder. Why do you ask?"

"Because it disrupted my own work in a way that had unfortunate consequences for my colleague," Samiar answered.

Stordan's face paled, and he visibly swallowed a few times before replying in a voice that squeaked with nervousness. "What can I do to help?"

"Go find Korvallen Senahye and bring him here," Sam said.

"I will, Saer." Stordan gave a low bow, then turned and headed for the stairs.

Once the young man had entered the stairwell, Samiar went back into his workroom.

The first thing he did was cast the anti-magic field on the box, but once that was taken care of, he used the sending he had memorized for the day to inform Taern of the incident.

Taern's response had been a sigh, a mutter about headstrong young idiots, and a promise to come as soon as he could.

Then Samiar set about checking Sharr over for any injuries that would necessitate moving him before Kor and Taern arrived.

When Sharr regained consciousness, he had to take a moment to just breathe—which felt so odd with the extra flesh on his chest—and catalogue the myriad new sensations his changed body was bombarding him with.

However, he was still working his way through them when the scrape of a chair nearby caused him to open his eyes.

He was lying on the bed in his own rooms, with Kor and Sam both sitting in chairs pulled up beside it.

"Good to see you finally awake again," Kor said, his voice gruff with worry.

"Finally?" Sharr repeated. "How long was I out?"

"Most of the day," Sam answered. "Which at least proved useful in allowing me to analyze the curse's traces on you."

"Did you learn anything useful?"

"There is an escape clause, and it's tied to both something physical and something time-based."

"Still would have preferred it if you hadn't had the opportunity," Kor grumbled.

Sharr sighed. "So would I, but I'll take it as a silver lining to misjudging where I grabbed the box when it slid off the table."

"How do you feel?" Kor asked.

Uncomfortable. Everything feels so different, and it's making it hard to concentrate right now."

Kor frowned. "That's the only problem, though?"

"Yes."

Kor gave a sigh of relief, and Sam smiled.

"Well," Sam said, "you'll presumably be able to concentrate better once you get used to the new sensations.

"Since Drizzt clearly has no problem concentrating."

"Let's hope so," Sharr said, "But speaking of Drizzt, please tell me that he isn't blaming himself for this."

"He didn't even get a chance to do so," Sam said. "The headstrong young idiot responsible was already defying a direct order, so Taern came down hard on him."

Samiar was indeed correct about Sharr's concentration returning once he became more accustomed to the female body's differences, and a few days later, the two of them resumed their work on translating the inscription.

As the weeks passed, Sharr's sons came by to meet or re-meet Samiar—with Thyl also visiting Spirit Sanctuary, resulting in Vierna and Zak being informed that Drizzt had run afoul of a curse, if not the exact details—and eventually, about a month and a half after the translation work had resumed, Sam and Sharr agreed that they had finally determined the correct one, though the implications it carried were unpleasant.

And with the translation found, Alustriel began working with Samiar on figuring out how the curse might actually be broken.

A bit more than three and a half weeks later—and almost exactly two months after he and Kor had started exploring the more intimate aspects of the female body's differences—Sharr noticed a change in his balance, along with a few other changes in how the female body felt.

So that evening, while he and Kor were lounging with Alustriel in her rooms after evenfeast, he asked, "What sort of physical changes accompany a pregnancy?"

Kor jerked bolt upright on hearing that, but Alustriel just gave him a considering look.

And after a moment, she said, "What changes have you experienced, to cause you to ask that?"

"There's been a shift in my balance, my abdomen feels unusually firm, and the breasts are sore."

Alustriel took a deep breath before she replied. "Well, those are all symptoms of pregnancy, so if you're thinking you might be pregnant, you're most likely correct.

"But if you want me to, there's a spell I can use to confirm it."

"Please."

"Then give me your hand."

Sharr complied, and Alustriel cupped her hands around his, then murmured a single word. And in reaction, a faint silver glow arched in a crescent from her right thumb to her left, over his hand.

Alustriel let out a gusty sigh and released his hand. "You are pregnant. About two months along, according to the spell."

Kor made a strangled sound beside him, and Sharr turned to look at his heart's brother. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Are you?" Kor replied.

Sharr took a moment to actually think about it before he replied. "I... think I will be, once I get over the surprise.

"It's not anything I expected-" Sharr paused for a moment to look at Alustriel, who had made a surprised noise when he said that, but she waved for him to continue, so he did. "-and I'm sure there will be some difficult moments due to the mismatch between mind and body, but I'm pleased to be carrying your child."

Kor sighed and threw his arm around Sharr's shoulders. "Alright. But you will let me take care of you during the pregnancy."

"Of course." Then Sharr turned his attention back to Alustriel. "Why were you surprised I hadn't expected this?" he asked her.

Alustriel again took a deep breath before speaking. "What conclusions did you and Sam come to about the nature of the curse and its escape clause, based on the translation you settled on?"

Sharr knew there was a catch somewhere in that question, but he couldn't see where, so he simply answered it. "It's a lover's curse, possibly a spurned one. And I would have said that fulfilling the escape clause requires sex, but given that it's been two months since Kor and I started having it, and the curse hasn't broken yet, I'm not so sure."

"Men." Alustriel rolled her eyes with that exasperated mutter, then sighed. "May you learn the pain of your deeds most personally, by living the life you have given to me. To me, that says pregnancy, and some amount of time breastfeeding the baby after it is born."

Sharr groaned and threw his head back. "Physical and time-based. Why didn't I see that?"

Alustriel smiled wryly. "Because you're not a woman."

"Fair enough," Sharr laughed. "Fair enough."

Roughly two and a half months after Sam and Alustriel had begun their research into how to break the curse, they reluctantly concluded that the only options were requesting divine intervention or fulfilling the terms of the escape clause.

Drizzt had been just as displeased with that conclusion as they were, but after taking some time to think about it, he accepted Samiar's offer to be the child's father.

Drizzt's decision that he would stay at Spirit Sanctuary during the pregnancy resulted in Thyl—who had remained in Silverymoon after coming to meet Samiar again—going there to give Zak and Vierna a full accounting of the situation, so that, when Drizzt did come, they would not be surprised by either his appearance or Samiar's presence, and once Thyl returned, Samiar started on treating Drizzt as a friend he was interested in intimacy with.

Drizzt proved to be more skittish about the process than anyone—including himself—had expected, but Samiar was very careful about always making sure he was comfortable with whatever Sam was doing, and about a week and a half after they had started, Drizzt felt ready to move on to actual sex.

Which ended up not getting very far at all, as experiencing intimacy while naked caused the long repressed memories that were the source of his skittishness to return in full.

When Vierna emerged from her workroom for the evening meal, she was somewhat surprised to learn that Thyl had arrived on Steelheart not much earlier.

But since she was rather hungry, and Thyl did not appear to be excessively concerned, she was willing to wait until after the meal to learn what had brought him to Spirit Sanctuary so late in the day, when she knew that he had to have come from Silverymoon.

Once the meal was over, however, Thyl actually pulled her aside, and said, quietly, "I need to talk to you and Zak."

Well. That he was asking for Zak as well made it likely that whatever brought him here involved Drizzt, but since she knew how much her brother valued his privacy, she simply caught Zak's attention, and indicated a need to talk, with a tilt of her head towards Thyl, and then in the direction of the exit from the communal dining area that would lead to her quarters.

Zak gave a sharp nod in reply, and was moving towards that exit even as she and Thyl started that way.

The walk to her quarters was accomplished in silence, but once all three of them were settled in the conversation area, Vierna couldn't hold off her concern any longer. "What happened with Drizzt?" she asked.

Thyl sighed. "The careful progress he and Cousin Sam were making hit an unanticipated obstacle."

Turning his full attention to Zaknafein, he continued. "As it turns out that he had rather thoroughly repressed his memories of graduation, but exploring intimacy slowly eroded that, until they fully resurfaced when he and Sam attempted to actually have sex."

Zaknafein couldn't help but wince when Thyl finished his explanation, "I... probably should have considered that possibility," he admitted with a sigh.

Putting what Thyl had said together with her own knowledge of Lolthite society, Vierna came to an unpleasant conclusion. "He was raped. During his graduation."

"Yes." The answer came in two voices, Thyl and Zak having spoken simultaneously. And after they exchanged a look, Thyl gestured for Zak to continue.

"The graduation ceremony is for all students graduating that year," Zak said, "both male and female.

"The teachers from Arach-Tinilith and a favored student summon a demon for the student to have sex with, and the drugged incense induces an orgy among everyone else present.

"The incense is likely why it didn't occur to me that those memories could be a problem, since it affects the memory enough that I just plain can't remember anything between that and the end of the ceremony."

"That's useful to know," Thyl said, "because Drizzt very definitely does remember all of it."

Vierna hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe because of his innate sense of evil?

"Because a demon would be a large splash against that."

"That's probably the best explanation we're likely to come up with," Thyl agreed.

"And to return to the current situation," he continued, "since Drizzt is insistent that he still wants to go through with fulfilling the terms of the curse, any further attempts at sex are on hold until he's received aid in properly processing the trauma and has reached a point where he feels ready to try again."

As the weeks passed, Drizzt made slow but steady progress in processing his rape trauma and coming to terms with what had happened in a way that let him move forward with fulfilling the terms of the curse.

Finally, a bit less than two full months after the memories had returned, he felt ready to make another attempt at having sex with Samiar.

And after a day of careful discussion and planning, they successfully went forward with doing so.

The three week wait until a pregnancy could be detected by the spell Alustriel had used to confirm Sharr's was mildly nerve-wracking, even knowing that the curse had most likely been designed to guarantee fertility, but Drizzt managed to find enough to occupy himself with that he was able to avoid dwelling on the matter.

And once his pregnancy was confirmed, he and Samiar said their farewells to those they wished to give them to, then rode Lothalninil up to Spirit Sanctuary.

Samiar had left Spirit Sanctuary after seeing Drizzt settled in—though not without promising to return for the child's birth—but even so, Drizzt and his family were kept abreast of the progress of Sharr's pregnancy, as Thyl had chosen to remain in Silverymoon at least until Sharr gave birth.

Given that Thyl had been updating them by sending, however, it was still a surprise when he teleported to Spirit Sanctuary roughly three months into Drizzt's pregnancy, about five weeks after the Midwinter festival.

But even with his smile making it clear that he had brought good news, the Do'Urdens still gathered in Vierna's rooms as swiftly as they were able to, in order to hear what news had brought Thyl in person.

And once they were all settled, he launched right into it. "Dad gave birth around dawn," he said.

"Were there any complications with the labor or the birth, or for the baby?" Vierna asked.

"Nope," Thyl said. "Unless you count Uncle Kor almost dropping the baby when the midwife said it was a girl."

"That would only count if he had actually dropped her," Vierna said, before giving in to the giggles she could feel bubbling up.

Drizzt was snickering beside her, and Thyl was grinning broadly, but Zak just looked confused by their amusement, which helped her to bring the giggles under control once she had gotten the first rush of them out.

Seeing that Vierna had calmed her giggles, Zak gave voice to his confusion. "Why is it amusing that... Kor... almost dropped the baby?"

"It's not him almost dropping her that's amusing," Vierna explained, suppressed mirth still in her voice, "it's the reason he did so."

"That reason being," Thyl continued, "the fact that until now, Dad has only had sons. So no one was expecting him to finally have a daughter after thirteen sons."

"Oh." Zak took a moment to consider that, then smiled. "That is amusing."

Finally stopping his snickering, Drizzt asked, "What did they name her?"

"Faeliniel Senahye."

Vierna made a surprised noise at that, and when all three men looked at her curiously, she said, "Why'd they choose to use Kor's family name?

"Given that you've previously mentioned that elves pass family names along the maternal line."

"Because Dad never uses the one he received from his mother," Thyl said. "I don't even know what it is, and he's been borrowing Kor's or Charic's for so long, I'm not sure Mom knows it, either."

"Huh. Do you have any idea why?"

"Given that Grandmother and her brother left Myth Drannor before its fall, my best guess is that their family was of a high enough rank that Dad feels it's not safe to use the name."

Vierna quickly ran through what she knew about the fall of Myth Drannor, and winced. "I can see why."

Samiar returned to Spirit Sanctuary a month before Drizzt was expected to give birth, and just three weeks after the Midsummer festival—about five and a half months after Faeliniel's birth—Zanna Do'Urden was born shortly before false dawn, and experienced her first sunrise half an hour later, when Drizzt brought her along for his sunrise vigil.

Samiar chose to stay at Spirit Sanctuary after the birth, saying that he didn't want to miss a single moment with their daughter, and things soon settled into a routine for the new parents, with Sam doing as much to care for Zanna as Drizzt did, even if Drizzt was the only one who could feed her.

Time seemed to pass surprisingly swiftly with a baby to care for, and it felt like it was all too soon before the next Midwinter festival occurred.

But it was barely a week after that when Samiar received a very welcome sending from Alustriel.

As Drizzt settled down to feed Zanna after his sunrise vigil, Sam sat down beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Alustriel sent while you were holding your vigil," Sam said. "The curse on Sharr broke while he was sleeping."

Drizzt smiled at Sam in relief. "That is good to know. I had been getting a little concerned over how close we were coming to a year since Faeliniel was born without his curse breaking."

"I think we all were," Sam said. "But it appears that the curse breaks eleven months after the child's birth, so now we know when to expect it for you."

Having a definite end to the curse in sight eased something inside himself that Drizzt hadn't even been aware was wound too tightly, and his mood lightened noticeably over the next few weeks.

And sure enough, just a week before the Midsummer festival, exactly eleven months after Zanna's birth, he woke to find himself restored to his proper body.

somariel

Starting to Find Family (2135 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
Relationships: Vierna Do'Urden & Zaknafein Do'Urden
Characters: Vierna Do'Urden, Zaknafein Do'Urden
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ensemble Cast
Series: Part 2 of Have Your Cake, Part 14 of A Crossing of the Realms
Summary:

After a god meddles, a father finds his daughter.

Beginning notes

Inspired by my fic Divine Snit Fits Occasionally Bring Good Things.

It assumes familiarity with that fic, and the previous fics in the Have Your Cake series.

Starting to Find Family

Early 1338 DR

Vierna had only just returned to her rooms after singing Ellie to sleep when she heard Qilué's voice in her head. ~Vierna, I need to speak with you. Let me see through your eyes, so I can come to you?~

Vierna knew that her Lady's Chosen would not say "need" lightly, nor would Qilué be willing to use her single teleport frivolously, so despite her own surprise and need for sleep, she responded with ~See~, before focusing on the most distinctive area of her outer room.

Silver stars filled the air a few feet from her, and when they faded, Qilué was standing in front of her.

"I am very sorry for keeping you from your own rest," Eilistraee's Chosen said, "but something unusual occurred just before we started our own ritual, and you need to know about it."

"Don't worry about it," Vierna replied, even as she moved to take a seat in the conversation area. "But now you've roused my curiosity as to what could have happened near Waterdeep that would be necessary for me to know about."

Qilué waited until she had taken her own seat to reply. "We were very close to starting, when a naked drow male just... appeared, accompanied by a musteval.

"The musteval gave a very brief summary of what had caused Someone to send the male to us, and requested that we aid him, then vanished.

"But what brings me to speak with you is that the male gave his name as Zaknafein Do'Urden."

Vierna just stared at Qilué in shock for a moment, before she shook herself free of it. "He's free? He actually escaped?"

Qilué smiled softly. "So he is the Weapon Master you've spoken of so fondly.

"But while he is now free, what the musteval said of the circumstances makes me believe that he had not escaped before Someone not pleased with Lolth intervened in his life."

"My teacher," Vierna agreed, "and most likely my father.

"And while I would like to go greet him immediately, the fact that you believe he had not actually escaped makes me think it would be wiser to wait until he has had some time to become accustomed to freedom."

"That does seem like the wisest course of action," Qilué said. "And given that I did mention that there is another bearing the Do'Urden name among those I serve, it may be best to wait until he asks about who it is."

"Agreed," Vierna said.

As he started to settle in at the Promenade, Zaknafein did his best to give all of his attention to learning these new ways and the teaching he was doing, but his thoughts kept circling back to Qilué's mention of another Do'Urden among her people, and Rylla's comment, after his first spar with her, that there was only one person she knew of who might be his peer with the blade.

And so, just three weeks after his arrival, he chose to broach the subject with Elkantar.

Settled in his own rooms after the evening meal, with the other man seated opposite him, Zak took a deep breath, and said, "Qilué mentioned another Do'Urden among you. Do you know who it is?"

"That would be Vierna Do'Urden," Elkantar said.

"She's alive?!" Zak's voice almost squeaked in his surprise, and after he took a sip of water to wet his suddenly dry mouth, he continued in a more even tone. "Why haven't I seen her here?"

"Because she doesn't live here," Elkantar replied. "She leads our only other permanent settlement, up north in the Frost Hills."

Zak hummed thoughtfully. "Is she the one Rylla mentioned as possibly being my peer with a blade then, or is that someone else?"

"It's her. Rylla went to learn from her at one point, on Qilué's recommendation of Vierna being the best drow warrior under Eilistraee."

"Ah." Zak hummed thoughtfully. "Has she been told that I'm here?"

"Qilué teleported up to tell her the same night you arrived," Elkantar said. "It was actually her suggestion that we give you time to settle in here before we spoke of her by name."

"Understandable," Zak said. "And now that I know, I'd like to meet her again, but... do it here?"

"Wherever you're most comfortable having the meeting happen."

"Then can you speak to Qilué about arranging it?"

"Of course."

The next day, after the midday meal, Elkantar pulled Zak aside, and once they had found some privacy, the other man said, "Vierna suggested tomorrow evening for her visit. Is that suitable for you?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'll get Qilué to pass on your acceptance.

"But on another note, have you given any thought to where in the Promenade you wish to hold the meeting?"

"Other than somewhere private?" Zak replied. "Not really. Do you have a suggestion?"

"Qilué has offered her office, if you don't want to have it in your rooms," Elkantar said. "And I'm sure Rylla would be willing to do the same, if asked."

Zak hummed thoughtfully for a moment. "I'd feel more comfortable in Rylla's office than Qilué's.

"Because she's correct in thinking that I would like to keep the initial meeting out of my rooms."

"Do you want to handle asking her, then, or would you prefer for Qilué or I to do so?"

"I'm fine with doing it," Zak answered.

"Then I'll leave you to continue with your day."

Vierna had been quite pleased when Zak chose to come with her upon her return to Spirit Sanctuary, even though she could tell that there was still something troubling him.

But given that he was still well within the adjustment period that males went through after escaping, she knew it would be best to let whatever it was lie unless he brought it up with her, no matter how much she wanted to make everything right for him.

Which is why she was rather surprised when he came to her the very next evening, after the night's activities had commenced, and said, "We need to talk."

"Of course," she said. "Where do you want to do so?"

"Your rooms would be fine," he answered.

"Very well." Then she turned and headed for them, Zak falling in beside her.

The walk to her rooms was done in silence, but once both of them were settled in the outer room's conversation area, Zak sighed heavily and began to speak.

"When Qilué mentioned another Do'Urden among her people, you were very much not who I was expecting it to be."

"I had guessed as much. But that does leave me with the question of who you were expecting it to be."

"Your full brother. Drizzt."

"Will you tell me about him?" Vierna asked.

It seemed that that was all the prompting Zak had needed, because the tale of her brother just started pouring out of him.

And when he had finished, wrapping up with how he himself had come to simply appear at the Promenade's ritual night, Vierna slowly stood up and came over to his seat.

"May I hug you?" she asked.

Zak's response was a sharp nod, so, being very careful to move slowly enough that he could easily see what she was doing, she wrapped him in a gentle embrace.

After a moment of frozen stiffness, he relaxed enough to wrap his own arms around her.

And when he lowered them again, she released the embrace and stepped back, then took a seat as close to him as she could manage.

"Well, scrying ought to be able to locate Drizzt," she said, "so I can certainly handle that myself.

"But if you will allow it, I think the investigation into Who re-embodied you should be turned over to Qilué. As she has more resources to draw on for such than I do."

Zak sighed. "Given that I recall Elkantar saying something about Qilué being Chosen—with the implication of a stronger connection to Eilistraee than any cleric has—I think you're right. Regardless of how much I would prefer for you to handle it."

"A more direct connection to that deity is one of the benefits of being a deity's Chosen," Vierna agreed. "Though I was more referring to the fact that Qilué is Twice Chosen, giving that service to the human goddess of magic in addition to Eilistraee.

"But going back to Drizzt, can you tell me what color his eyes are?"

Zak blinked several times in surprise. "Huh. I think I want to hear more about how that works, later.

"As for Drizzt's eye color, he has purple eyes. Why do you ask?"

"Qilué's fairly open about it with our people to begin with, but it does tend to end up being a conversation for after newcomers have fully settled in," Vierna said.

"And given Drizzt's eye color, I can confidently tell you that you gained a granddaughter by his actions."

"I... What? How?!" Zak didn't think he could have been more surprised even if Malice herself had declared for the Dark Maiden.

Vierna smiled gently. "Roughly ten years ago, Eilistraee reached out to Spirit Sanctuary for whatever aid might be possible to give to moon elf followers of hers who had suffered a drow raid.

"We found two survivors. And while the elder of them had been injured badly enough that I was almost unable to save her, the younger one—a girl of about five—had no injuries other than a bruise near her temple, despite being covered in blood when we found her.

"Her nightmares about the raid are far less frequent now, thanks to intensive prayer sessions to recede it into distant memory, but the purple eyes of the man who stunned her have been a consistent feature of them from the very beginning."

When Vierna's own attempt to scry for her brother had just plain not worked, with no discernible cause, she had asked Qilué to try.

Qilué having the exact same problem had resulted in the discovery that Eilistraee was, for some reason, completely unaware of Drizzt, even though everything they knew about him indicated that She should be aware of him.

But since that was a mystery that could not be solved until Drizzt was actually found, the task of scrying for him had been turned over to the rest of Qilué's family, and Vierna had filled in Zak on the unexpected obstacle.

He had been just as displeased by the news as she was, but since there was nothing either of them could actually do to help, all they could do was wait.

It was just two days later, however, when Thyl arrived.

But while Vierna had been fully anticipating a visit from him, once he heard about Zak's arrival, she had not expected him to come by teleport.

And when, instead of asking to meet Zak, he said that he needed to speak with both her and Zak, she became concerned.

"Has something happened to Drizzt?" she asked, after she had sent the nearest child to find Zak and ask him to meet them in her rooms.

"No, I have good news," Thyl replied. "It just... needs more explanation than can be easily given by sending."

"Ah."

The walk to her rooms was accomplished in silence, and when they entered, Zak was already seated in the conversation area.

Introductions were made once she and Thyl had taken seats, and then she asked, "So what is this good news that is too complicated for a sending?"

"The good news is that we were able to confirm that Drizzt is on the Surface," Thyl said, "though we do not yet have a location other than 'northern mountains'."

"You're going to keep scrying until you get a specific one, then?" Zak said.

"That's the part that needs explanation," Thyl replied. "From all we can tell, he's been adopted by pegasi."

"Oh." Vierna had, through Thyl, learned enough about pegasi to guess how that had affected the Silverhands' decision making, and it truly was more than a sending could handle.

"And due to that," Thyl continued, "the consensus among the family is that we don't need to keep trying to discern his exact location, because the pegasus gossip network will guide us to him eventually."

Zak's face was a study in confusion, and Vierna had to repress a laugh before she clarified things for him.

"Thyl's family has thirteen bonded pegasus riders in it, and pegasi are at least as intelligent as the average human."

"Which means wild ones are fully smart enough to understand that Drizzt cannot remain with them indefinitely if he's truly going to thrive," Thyl continued, "and seek out a bonded pegasus to request two-leg aid for him."

"Oh," Zak breathed. "You'll still check in on him, though?"

"Of course."

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Tales of Faerun

July 2025

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Tales of Faerun

Entries tagged with character: zaknafein do'urden

Dreams of Her Own

Sealing the Future

Again and Again

A Demand for his Aid

Fight or Flight Chapter Two: Following Up

A Family Reunited

After It Is Said and Done

Corellon's Meddling

Dream Bonds, Drow Raids, and Family Ties

The Ghost and His Daughter

Dreaming of the Other

Zak and Malice, Teaser Fic for an AU

Zak and Kor Fic

Demon Sequel

Jarlaxle and Zaknafein Drabble

Vierna Kastan AU

Have Your Cake Part VI

Zak and Drizzt Drabble

Have Your Cake Part IV

Have Your Cake Part II

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