Have Your Cake Part VI
Nov. 6th, 2023 06:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
somarielYour 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:
Inspired bysenmut'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 fromsenmut's fic "War Comes to the Hall".
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.
Part I|Part II|Part III|Part IV|Part V|Part VI
*Links will work as fics are revealed
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.
Part I|Part II|Part III|Part IV|Part V|Part VI
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