Come Clean

Veldrin's Remix

Let's go back,

Back to the beginning

When the earth, the sun, the stars all aligned…

Veldrin squinted as she glimpsed the light of the sun for the first time. But if the surface elves could handle it, so could she. Actually, she'd heard that the drow and the surface elves shared common roots, way back when the races hadn't had such ugly barriers between them.

'Cause perfect didn't feel so perfect

Trying to fit a square into a circle

Was no life

I defy

When the elves had been just one race, there hadn't been any issues of who was perfect and who wasn't. No one was ever forced into a role they couldn't play. Now, roles were defined by birth whether the recipient of said role could or would play it or not. Veldrin decided to follow the example set by Drizzt Do'Urden, and defy this. So, the Underdark became part of her past that she left behind forever.

Let the rain fall down, and wake my dreams

Let it wash away my sanity

'Cause I wanna feel the thunder, I wanna scream

Let the rain fall down

I'm coming clean, I'm coming clean

Veldrin loved the storms of the surface world. She would cast her face to the sky, letting the cold droplets strike her face as she let the thunder roll over her. The storms were always so wild, so free. Veldrin felt giddy and not exactly lucid when she got the chance to taste that kind of freedom, especially when she remembered exactly why she had left the Underdark. And despite every follower of Talos proclaiming that storms were the heralds of chaos and destruction, Veldrin couldn't see that. What storms destroyed made room for new growth, and whatever they struck was always left cleaner when the storms had passed. Her soul included.

I'm shedding, shedding every color

Trying to find a pigment of truth beneath my skin

'Cause different doesn't feel so different

And going out is better than always staying in

Feel the wind…

Veldrin would look at her reflection in shiny surfaces sometimes, and wonder. Her skin was as dark as ebony, her hair pale like snow, and somehow, this was supposed to make her a vicious, ambitious follower of Lolth, a murderer, someone cruel and unyielding. But Veldrin didn't feel like a drow, not even when the surfacers caught sight of her and either screamed and ran or yelled and attacked. Sometimes she pretended the world had no colors at all, and somehow, she wasn't different at all, she was just like she felt, which was just like everyone else, or at least, that if she was different, it was a matter of individuality and not race.

Let the rain fall down and wake my dreams

Let it wash away my sanity

'Cause I wanna feel the thunder, I wanna scream

Let the rain fall down

I'm coming clean, I'm coming clean…

Veldrin knew there were very few places she would ever be accepted despite, or perhaps because of what she was. Until then, she would stand in the storms, letting the rain drench her, and dream of the day when actions spoke louder than skin color. She would howl in crazy joy at the rolling storm clouds, adding her voice to the symphony of the pounding thunder, despite what her new companions thought of it. She held out her hand, and the Bhaalspawn joined her, not in the howling aspect, of course, but in letting the rain wash away the stains on her soul.

Author's Note: "Come Clean" is a song created and owned by Hillary Duff. Heron simply decided to borrow it because it is Veldrin's personal theme song. And if you're thinking of arguing any points, let's pretend this is multi-player, okay? Veldrin may not be a joinable NPC in the game or in any mod, but that doesn't matter here. Veldrin of Ust Natha is a character Heron created for one of her many un-posted fanfics, as an interesting plot device, because the Bhaalspawn Veldrin joins with is a scatterbrained wild mage who couldn't survive in the Underdark ten minutes if Veldrin weren't there to help her along. You all might meet her later, if Heron ever gets around to posting. Anyhoo, Heron hopes you enjoyed this little songfic, or at least liked it a little bit. It was begging to be written. At two thirty in the morning no less. If it's not too much trouble, could you tell Heron what you think? It'd be nice to know:)