A/N: First attempt at drow fiction. (Thank you, Shrike and Liriel, for reviewing my poem!) The character, Aylena, is drow and female and a Lloth-worshipper, but I'm trying to make her amoral instead of immoral. We'll see just how well this works ;).
I'm making up the names of the drow characters in the story. I hope they do sound as if they could be drow names. If you see room for improvement here (or anywhere else), let me know.
Disclaimer: Wizards of the Coast/TSR own the drow and the Underdark. No profit is being made from this story, and no attempt to claim the dark elves is being made.
Dreams of Incarnate Stone
Prologue
Aylena started to turn around. "I have the filfaer moss, Kelydda. How much should I use--?"
*Bang.*
Aylena felt her feet leave the floor, felt her back smack against the stone wall, and then felt herself slide down the wall. After that, she didn't really feel anything except the throbbing, searing pain in the side of her face. She rolled over and looked up at her sister, who was saying something Aylena couldn't hear. The explosion had deafened her.
*Temporarily,* Aylena thought as she struggled back to her feet, and Kelydda took a step towards her. *Oh Lady Lloth, let it be temporary!*
"What has happened?"
*Funny,* Aylena thought as she fell into a kneeling position. Even through the ringing echoes in her ears, she could still hear her Matron's voice perfectly.
"Nothing, Mother," said Kelydda. *Very well,* thought Aylena, keeping her eyes down. *So it was temporary. Thank you, Lady of Spiders*. "Aylena was careless with the potion ingredients. Show her, little sister."
Aylena rose slowly to her feet, and let her eyes meet the matron's with care. Whether Matron Zirrin believed her sister's inane ramblings or not was truly of little matter. The most important thing was what the Matron decided was important. If she decided Aylena was marked as too ugly by the explosion to be of any more use, she would accept Kelydda's explanation and punish her youngest daughter, whether or not she truly believed that the explosion was Aylena's fault.
It helped to know those things. It helped so much that, even facing a beating or death, Aylena was calm. Her Matron could do what she liked, as long as Aylena knew the reason, knew *why.*
Matron Zirrin stood in front of her and looked at her youngest daughter for a long moment. Aylena returned her stare. The room was full of light, since she and Kelydda had needed to read scrolls, and so the Matron's eyes showed as green, pools of calm verdant light in the smooth black skin of her face. Aylena found them a lot harder to read than the scrolls.
"Kelydda," said the Matron after a moment. "Fetch the mirror."
Aylena didn't know what that meant. Of course, her sister went gleefully enough to fetch the mirror, but then Kelydda was stupid. She didn't understand all the currents that could be moving behind the Matron's calm words. Aylena had realized long ago that their mother kept Kelydda at her side because of all the unwitting havoc that Kelydda could cause if she was let out in the city.
Kelydda brought back the bronze mirror that had hung in a corner of the room for all the decade and a half since Aylena's birth. It wouldn't hang there much longer, Aylena thought, since a long corner of it was cracked. The Matron spent a moment looking at the crack with the same coldness she had spent looking at her youngest daughter's injury, and then she held the mirror out so that Aylena could see herself in it.
Aylena used all the control she had learned to put up with Kelydda to keep herself from recoiling.
Seamed cracks ran down the left side of her face, barely missing her eye to coil into a messy pattern on her cheek. The pattern must be the source of the throbbing, Aylena thought. She could see teeth and gums through the ruin of the left side of her mouth. She moved her tongue, and clearly saw it move in the mirror. The burns and cracks spread all down the side of her throat, stopping an inch or so above her shoulder. Unless she wore a mask of some kind, there was no way to cover it, and Aylena knew already that even the most advanced drow healing potions couldn't quite convince it not to scar.
She was ugly.
Ugly in a city where deformed children of any kind were given to the Lady of Spiders.
Aylena looked up, fully expecting to see her death in her Matron's green eyes, the twins of her own.
Zirrin stood looking at her. Aylena could still see nothing in her expression.
Abruptly Zirrin said, "Kelydda, leave us."
"But, Mother-"
"Kelydda." Zirrin's voice was so quiet, and so deadly, that roaring orcs would have fallen silent to hear it. "That is twice within five minutes that you have called me Mother. The first two times, I might let pass, simply because they reminded me of your inherent stupidity-never a good thing to forget. But if you call me Mother again, then I will shred you with my nails and feed you to the driders while yet your heart beats."
There was silence. Aylena wished she could glance over the Matron's shoulder to enjoy the sight of Kelydda blanching with fear, but now was not the time to look away from Zirrin's face if she wanted to live. Aylena didn't know how she knew that, and that was frustrating, but sometimes the whys had to be silenced and the brisk facts of the matter dealt with.
"Yes, Matron," said Kelydda. The door opened and closed.
Zirrin made a casual gesture. All the candles in the room went out. Aylena took a moment to let her eyes adjust to infravision, and then met the red glow of her mother's eyes.
"Truth comes out in the darkness," murmured Zirrin. "What happened?"
Aylena didn't waste time wondering why the Matron wanted to hear her side of things. "I turned around with the filfaer moss in my hands," she said, hearing her words slur with the wound to her mouth, knowing she would have to get used to it. "The explosion hit. I slammed into the wall."
"What were you making?"
"Tsoss d'ssinssrigg."
Zirrin nodded, her face still cool, without any trace of the heat of rage. "And is that what you smell in this room?"
Aylena closed her eyes and fell within herself, turning all her attention to her sense of smell. It still took her effort to do that. Of course, since she was not yet a full priestess of Lloth, it took her effort to do a lot of things.
"No," she said quietly, opening her eyes again.
"What do you smell?"
"Tsoss d'nizzre'."
"And why would your sister want to make a potion to call lightning, instead of one to induce lust?"
"It was an assassination attempt."
"It was," said the Matron. "A very clumsy one. And were I some Matrons, it would cost me two of my daughters. I would sacrifice you, because of your deformity, and I would have to discipline Kelydda firmly, for stupidity. She would resent me and attack me soon after. No, I will not discipline either one of you. I will let the consequences sort themselves out instead."
"Matron?"
"You are not stupid, Aylena," said Zirrin, and now her face did glow, a little. "You know what I mean. Think about it."
"You will leave my face like this," said Aylena.
"Yes," said Zirrin. "You should have been able to tell the difference between the potions. You should have realized that your sister would resent you."
"And Kelydda?"
Zirrin leaned forward. "Tell me what her punishment will be."
Aylena closed her own eyes and thought. She couldn't think with those scarlet eyes staring into her own. Not glaring; as Zirrin said, she was not some Matrons. But in some ways, that difference meant that Aylena couldn't rely on some of the techniques she wanted to use.
She had to think.
"She botched an assassination attempt," she said slowly. "Usually, the punishment for that is execution."
Zirrin said nothing.
"And you're not executing her."
Silence.
Aylena gasped, and opened her eyes to gaze at her mother-and in that moment, Zirrin did feel like mother rather than Matron.
"Thank you," she said softly.
Zirrin turned and left the room.
Aylena leaned back against the wall, ignoring the throbbing pain in her face, and smiled. Zirrin had given her a gift. Kelydda's death was hers.
Her sister might not pay for this for long years. But when she did, she would pay-and pay-and pay.
"Thank you, Lady of Spiders," Aylena whispered.
Translation of the potion names (both are made up, as far as I know)
tsoss d'ssinssrigg= kiss of lust.
tsoss d'nizzre'= kiss of lightning.
I'm making up the names of the drow characters in the story. I hope they do sound as if they could be drow names. If you see room for improvement here (or anywhere else), let me know.
Disclaimer: Wizards of the Coast/TSR own the drow and the Underdark. No profit is being made from this story, and no attempt to claim the dark elves is being made.
Dreams of Incarnate Stone
Prologue
Aylena started to turn around. "I have the filfaer moss, Kelydda. How much should I use--?"
*Bang.*
Aylena felt her feet leave the floor, felt her back smack against the stone wall, and then felt herself slide down the wall. After that, she didn't really feel anything except the throbbing, searing pain in the side of her face. She rolled over and looked up at her sister, who was saying something Aylena couldn't hear. The explosion had deafened her.
*Temporarily,* Aylena thought as she struggled back to her feet, and Kelydda took a step towards her. *Oh Lady Lloth, let it be temporary!*
"What has happened?"
*Funny,* Aylena thought as she fell into a kneeling position. Even through the ringing echoes in her ears, she could still hear her Matron's voice perfectly.
"Nothing, Mother," said Kelydda. *Very well,* thought Aylena, keeping her eyes down. *So it was temporary. Thank you, Lady of Spiders*. "Aylena was careless with the potion ingredients. Show her, little sister."
Aylena rose slowly to her feet, and let her eyes meet the matron's with care. Whether Matron Zirrin believed her sister's inane ramblings or not was truly of little matter. The most important thing was what the Matron decided was important. If she decided Aylena was marked as too ugly by the explosion to be of any more use, she would accept Kelydda's explanation and punish her youngest daughter, whether or not she truly believed that the explosion was Aylena's fault.
It helped to know those things. It helped so much that, even facing a beating or death, Aylena was calm. Her Matron could do what she liked, as long as Aylena knew the reason, knew *why.*
Matron Zirrin stood in front of her and looked at her youngest daughter for a long moment. Aylena returned her stare. The room was full of light, since she and Kelydda had needed to read scrolls, and so the Matron's eyes showed as green, pools of calm verdant light in the smooth black skin of her face. Aylena found them a lot harder to read than the scrolls.
"Kelydda," said the Matron after a moment. "Fetch the mirror."
Aylena didn't know what that meant. Of course, her sister went gleefully enough to fetch the mirror, but then Kelydda was stupid. She didn't understand all the currents that could be moving behind the Matron's calm words. Aylena had realized long ago that their mother kept Kelydda at her side because of all the unwitting havoc that Kelydda could cause if she was let out in the city.
Kelydda brought back the bronze mirror that had hung in a corner of the room for all the decade and a half since Aylena's birth. It wouldn't hang there much longer, Aylena thought, since a long corner of it was cracked. The Matron spent a moment looking at the crack with the same coldness she had spent looking at her youngest daughter's injury, and then she held the mirror out so that Aylena could see herself in it.
Aylena used all the control she had learned to put up with Kelydda to keep herself from recoiling.
Seamed cracks ran down the left side of her face, barely missing her eye to coil into a messy pattern on her cheek. The pattern must be the source of the throbbing, Aylena thought. She could see teeth and gums through the ruin of the left side of her mouth. She moved her tongue, and clearly saw it move in the mirror. The burns and cracks spread all down the side of her throat, stopping an inch or so above her shoulder. Unless she wore a mask of some kind, there was no way to cover it, and Aylena knew already that even the most advanced drow healing potions couldn't quite convince it not to scar.
She was ugly.
Ugly in a city where deformed children of any kind were given to the Lady of Spiders.
Aylena looked up, fully expecting to see her death in her Matron's green eyes, the twins of her own.
Zirrin stood looking at her. Aylena could still see nothing in her expression.
Abruptly Zirrin said, "Kelydda, leave us."
"But, Mother-"
"Kelydda." Zirrin's voice was so quiet, and so deadly, that roaring orcs would have fallen silent to hear it. "That is twice within five minutes that you have called me Mother. The first two times, I might let pass, simply because they reminded me of your inherent stupidity-never a good thing to forget. But if you call me Mother again, then I will shred you with my nails and feed you to the driders while yet your heart beats."
There was silence. Aylena wished she could glance over the Matron's shoulder to enjoy the sight of Kelydda blanching with fear, but now was not the time to look away from Zirrin's face if she wanted to live. Aylena didn't know how she knew that, and that was frustrating, but sometimes the whys had to be silenced and the brisk facts of the matter dealt with.
"Yes, Matron," said Kelydda. The door opened and closed.
Zirrin made a casual gesture. All the candles in the room went out. Aylena took a moment to let her eyes adjust to infravision, and then met the red glow of her mother's eyes.
"Truth comes out in the darkness," murmured Zirrin. "What happened?"
Aylena didn't waste time wondering why the Matron wanted to hear her side of things. "I turned around with the filfaer moss in my hands," she said, hearing her words slur with the wound to her mouth, knowing she would have to get used to it. "The explosion hit. I slammed into the wall."
"What were you making?"
"Tsoss d'ssinssrigg."
Zirrin nodded, her face still cool, without any trace of the heat of rage. "And is that what you smell in this room?"
Aylena closed her eyes and fell within herself, turning all her attention to her sense of smell. It still took her effort to do that. Of course, since she was not yet a full priestess of Lloth, it took her effort to do a lot of things.
"No," she said quietly, opening her eyes again.
"What do you smell?"
"Tsoss d'nizzre'."
"And why would your sister want to make a potion to call lightning, instead of one to induce lust?"
"It was an assassination attempt."
"It was," said the Matron. "A very clumsy one. And were I some Matrons, it would cost me two of my daughters. I would sacrifice you, because of your deformity, and I would have to discipline Kelydda firmly, for stupidity. She would resent me and attack me soon after. No, I will not discipline either one of you. I will let the consequences sort themselves out instead."
"Matron?"
"You are not stupid, Aylena," said Zirrin, and now her face did glow, a little. "You know what I mean. Think about it."
"You will leave my face like this," said Aylena.
"Yes," said Zirrin. "You should have been able to tell the difference between the potions. You should have realized that your sister would resent you."
"And Kelydda?"
Zirrin leaned forward. "Tell me what her punishment will be."
Aylena closed her own eyes and thought. She couldn't think with those scarlet eyes staring into her own. Not glaring; as Zirrin said, she was not some Matrons. But in some ways, that difference meant that Aylena couldn't rely on some of the techniques she wanted to use.
She had to think.
"She botched an assassination attempt," she said slowly. "Usually, the punishment for that is execution."
Zirrin said nothing.
"And you're not executing her."
Silence.
Aylena gasped, and opened her eyes to gaze at her mother-and in that moment, Zirrin did feel like mother rather than Matron.
"Thank you," she said softly.
Zirrin turned and left the room.
Aylena leaned back against the wall, ignoring the throbbing pain in her face, and smiled. Zirrin had given her a gift. Kelydda's death was hers.
Her sister might not pay for this for long years. But when she did, she would pay-and pay-and pay.
"Thank you, Lady of Spiders," Aylena whispered.
Translation of the potion names (both are made up, as far as I know)
tsoss d'ssinssrigg= kiss of lust.
tsoss d'nizzre'= kiss of lightning.