Chapter 4

Love at First Feel

Jarlaxle and Fey decided that it would be best to celebrate their victory with more wine and stew, but Zak was far more careful with the wine, only having a few glasses and staying in a mostly strait mindset. Before the two had gotten too drunk, however, Zak thanked them for their help.

"I couldn't have done all of that without help," Zak said, "I never would have known about their intentions to attack me if it weren't for you two, and I never would have set the traps up in time if it weren't for Fey's assistance. Or cleaning this room, for that matter. Thank you, and don't be modest. You are always welcome here. You two were a tremendous help, and Jarlaxle nearly died."

"You would have died if it weren't for us," Jarlaxle said, "You never would have stood a chance with out us saving your hide. In fact, I did most of the fighting again Duag. You stabbed him in the hand and touched his heart, sure, but I got him in the face. I got far closer to killing him than you."

"Well, I did ask you to not be modest," Zak admitted. When they finished celebrating, Zak went to bed. When Fey entered his room, however, he turned her away, despite her objections. He made sure that he had a glass of water ready for his hangover in the morning. He thought of Luala's dead body, and how terrified she had been. Nobody should ever be that frightened in their life. And when he had seen Jarlaxle being crushed, he was filled with dread, thinking that he might have Jarlaxle's death on his conscious. And if had slain Duag, he would have the Orc chieftain's death on his consciousness. He shook his head, knowing that neither had died. He felt no remorse for the dead orc warriors; they were monsters. But Duag and his daughter were not. Duag had done terrible things, one of which led to Luala's birth. Even so, he had endured much in his life. Zak compared it to his own, and realized that Duag could probably teach him a thing or two about the world, just as he fell asleep.

When he woke up the next morning, he saw that Fey was sleeping on the floor. He smelled himself, and he didn't smell like perfume, so he knew that nothing happened between them the previous night. He beckoned Fey awake, and realized that she was naked. She moaned as her hangover struck her, and she looked at the floor she had slept on. Her clothes were all over the floor, but Zak was dressed.

"That's it, I'm never drinking again," she vowed, slipping into her clothes. They heard snores, and knew that Jarlaxle was still asleep. Zak stoked the fire pit, and let the stew heat up before having some for breakfast.

"This is good, but I couldn't imagine eating it for a month," she said.

"That's why I don't make more than what I can eat once every couple days for about two weeks. It's almost gone now, after serving eight."

Fey took a bite, lavished in it, and swallowed.

"So what was it like, being raised by the famous Drizzt Do'Urden?" she asked.

"Well, when I was little, I played with the Dwarven children and tormented my brother, just as he tormented me. My grandfather-Adopted grandfather, but my grandfather nonetheless-loved to watch after us, but he didn't know quite how to handle my brother and I. My father was always trying to teach us something, but my mother always tried to let us be children. Eventually, my father reached us by taking us into the wild and showing us things. I was always asking 'what' and my brother was always asking 'why'. I became fascinated by the wilderness, and always wanted to go along with him. My brother was always trying to figure out how and why things worked. When he was seven, he became an apprentice to a wizard, to my mother's objections. We always made visits to see him, but he couldn't speak for years, as his master had ordered him to never talk, but he would often slip me little messages on papers, and that was how we spoke.

"Eventually, I came of age, and my father taught me how to fight, and my mother taught me how to shoot a bow. Wulfgar often came and visited, and I would spar with him, which was a lot of fun. And when Regis came, he taught me how to nick things, pick locks, and how to identify and disarm traps. I've gotten pretty good at it, too. My father taught me how to be a ranger, and I accompanied him wherever he went, which often was with my grandfather, Wulfgar, Regis, and my mother. Eventually, Montolio started to slip away and join us. We've been up and down the Sword Coast, doing this and that, meeting new people and old friends, causing trouble, stopping trouble. By the time I was eighteen, I was just as well-known as my father. When my brother finished his apprenticeship, he was hailed as a prodigy. We traveled everywhere together after that, until he joined a wizarding guild, and I joined a group of rangers. I decided, however, after losing my mother, that I should find a place to call my own, because I know that I won't live for as many centuries as my father will, only a few. I still have many years, but I have to cherish them. My father lent me Guenhwyvar, and that's when our paths first crossed. So what's it like being the daughter of the infamous Artemis Entreri?"

Fey thought for a while on how to respond. Jarlaxle's snores had lightened, but were still going strong.

"I was more Calihye's daughter than my father's. He disappeared when Calihye told him that she was carrying a child, and she knew that he would. I saw more of Jarlaxle then I did of my father, but I knew our paths crossed often, because, as we traveled, whenever Jarlaxle appeared, my mother would disappear for a while and I would never see Artemis. My mother and her traveling companions that she met along the way taught me how to survive on the road, and I became as adept as them. At one point, my father saved my life, and that was the first time I really met him. I respected him, both because he was a fighter and everything he had done in his life, and because he was my father. As he and Jarlaxle left us for the last time we encountered them together, Artemis admitted that he regretted going off and living his own life."

"He later told me that being a father was the one thing he was truly afraid of being and failing at," Jarlaxle said, scooping himself some of the stew, "After he had met you, he knew that he had always been a father, and he failed miserably. I told him that he needn't worry about you, as you would probably wind up getting yourself killed by fighting some all-powerful deity or something like that. I liked Artemis; it was easy to get underneath his skin, just like it is with you, Fey."

Fey rolled her eyes as Jarlaxle laughed and ate at the same time.

"Well, I traveled with my mother until my thirty-second birthday three years ago. We were fighting a group of druids, and Jarlaxle was on their side. When the druids were all dead, Jarlaxle took what he wanted from their corpses anyway as our companions threatened his life, and he walked away. I caught up with him later, and ever since we've been traveling together. Doing as we do," she finished. Zak nodded, and stretched. He had hoped for his first normal day, but now he had to clean up the mess from the battle the previous day. And if Jarlaxle and Fey stayed, there would never be a normal day. Of course, life was boring with normal days. When they finished eating (Jarlaxle had thirds, finishing the stew off) they went outside. Fey stretched, smiling and exclaimed,

"Finally, a day with no roads or monsters. We can just sit and relax!"

"Not while you're in my grove," Zak said, "We still have to clean everything up."

"I'm not hauling bodies," she objected, and Zak shook his head.

"Scavengers will eat the bodies, or they'll rot and contribute to the environment. The traps need to be picked up or taken down. There's still two unlit logs. That's going to be messy."

Fey moaned, and Zak could tell Jarlaxle was thinking of a way to slip away.

"And if you don't help me, you'll never leave this grove until I'm satisfied," he added. They went around picking up the mess and traps. Most of the traps never went off, and so they had to make sure which ones weren't tripped and disarm them so that they wouldn't go off. Zak had actually found a few from the first battle that had never been triggered, increasing his stock of them. They were surprisingly quick, and the sun was just starting to shine just a little bit cooler in the summertime sky. There was easily another three hours of sunlight. Plenty of time to bathe and start on the evening meal.

On the third day, they rested. The bodies were starting to be picked at, the traps were all collected or disarmed (Although Jarlaxle had intentionally left one, which a rabbit passed through and became his lunch.) Zak knew that if he got too used to having days like this, he wouldn't get out of the grove. As he lay on a very large hammock he had strung, admiring the trees and sky, Fey laid on it next to him.

"Jarlaxle is having a roaring contest with a bear. I think he won," she said. She nestled into the hammock.

"Hmm. This is actually comfortable," she complimented, "I didn't think that a bunch of ropes could be this comfortable."

"I have a few more, smaller ones if you want one. I buy them really cheap from a merchant in Mirabar who took a liking to my brother. My brother doesn't go to Mirabar that much," Zak said, and she nodded.

"That would be nice, instead of sleeping on those stupid mats which are more uncomfortable than the ground itself."

"They don't last too long if they're used a lot, but they're worth more than what I pay for them, I think. They don't suffocate the ground, nor do they harm the trees. Sailors sleep on them because they go back and forth with the waves. If you get seasick like my brother, hammocks aren't always the best option, though."

"I've never been to the sea…" Fey said, "Well, I've been at the sea, but never on a ship."

"We got attacked by pirates. My brother wound up sinking their ship, and the pirates melted into the crew because we had lost too many. None of them put up a fight with us, not after seeing my brother so angry. He was more annoyed than anything, being seasick and all."

"You talk about your brother a lot, don't you?" she asked.

"You can learn more about me from my brother than you can from me, just as you can learn more about him from me than Montolio himself. And our mother could predict our every action. She was never surprised when we told her stories of what we've done, and yet she always had a twist in her tales," Zak said. He breathed heavily, and closed his eyes. "I miss her so much. I know that she was old, but even so, she was my mother. I had been preparing for her death when she had gotten sick, but it still hit me as if I saw her get murdered in the prime of her life."

Zak laughed, and shook his head.

"You don't care, do you?"

"I wouldn't say that. I can't really relate, and I'm not used to listening to other people. It's always been my mother and I, or Jarlaxle and me surviving and getting what we want. Never about one of my friends talk about his dead mother."

"Friend? Since when did someone like you have a friend?" Zak asked.

"'Someone like me'? I've made plenty of friends! Very close people that I've killed far more dangerous beasts with than the few orcs we slew together two days ago."

"Do you have any friends that you haven't had sex with?" he asked inquisitively. Fey grew flustered and clenched her fist.

"Of course I do! And they do not include the ones I don't count, but others might. Do you?"

"I have friends that I remember doing things with, but I cannot recall when I actually met them. Although a few of them may have modified my memory," Zak admitted. He stared at the trees for a few minutes before saying,

"To be honest, I hadn't expected the daughter of Artemis Entreri to be quite like you."

"I take after Jarlaxle more than I do Artemis. Artemis actually asked Jarlaxle if he and my mother had an affair together, and Jarlaxle hit him on the head for asking such a stupid question."

"What was Jarlaxle's answer?"

"Almost," she chuckled, "Jarlaxle was more faithful to his friend than my mother was to her lover."

Zak smiled. He never thought he would be taking a liking to people like Jarlaxle and Fey, especially with Jarlaxle's history, but he had openly invited them into his home. Zak had vowed to be selfless and righteous, and they were hedonistic and ruthless. And yet here he was, lying on a hammock with the daughter of his father's enemy. He remembered very little of their night together two nights prior, but he wondered what it had been like. He found himself stroking her hair, and her arm was over his chest, and he stopped when he realized what he was doing. She grabbed his head and brought their faces close, and Zak closed his eyes-

Suddenly, the hammock started to rock back and forth. Zak looked, and Jarlaxle was pushing it hard. The Drow hopped onto the hammock in between them, dropping his hat. Fey seemed to be repulsed by the proximity of Jarlaxle's feet to her face. He picked it up, dusted it, and placed it back on his hairless head. Zak glanced at Jarlaxle's face. Hadn't his eye patch been on the other eye earlier that day?

"Oh, this hammock is lovely, Zaknafein. I had one once, but it broke. Do you have any more? I miss mine," Jarlaxle said.

"I do," Zak said, "I just, uh, offered one to Fey."

"Uh-huh, and I'm sure she's grateful," Jarlaxle said with a smile. Jarlaxle studied the canopy, and sighed.

"Zak, you'd better be careful. If you're away too long, I might come along and take up the profession of ranger for a while," the mercenary informed him. Zak smiled.

"I'm sure the animals would adore you, Jarlaxle. What are you two going to do when you leave?"

"I don't want to leave," Jarlaxle moaned.

"I know I'm going to leave in a few days," Zak said, "and I expect the grove to be devoid of anything smarter than the animals when I do."

"Where were you going to go to?" Fey asked.

"I was hoping to go with you two, actually. Find out what my brother's up to and stop whatever mistakes he unleashed on the world, maybe," Zak said. It was more of a suggestion than a response.

"I thought you said you didn't know where he was."

"That's why I said that I wanted to find out where my brother is."

"Any ideas on where he is?" Jarlaxle asked.

"None whatsoever," Zak said. Jarlaxle shrugged.

"I've completely forgotten why we came this way as it is. I'm up for it."

"The bracers, Jarlaxle," Fey reminded him.

"Oh, yeah. The bracers. What did they do again?" Jarlaxle asked. Fey thought, and shook her head.

"I don't remember."

"It can't be that important," Jarlaxle said, "Just a magical do-dad."

The hammock stopped swinging, and they lay there, relaxing. Fey snapped, and pointed to the sky.

"They're cursed. A wizard wanted them for one of his experiments. Duag kept them to keep them out of the hands of warriors, and he occasionally used them for torture."

"Yes, that was it. He offered us a pair of gloves that let us pick any nonmagical lock."

Even though they had done nothing that day, they still retired early, for the sake of sleeping for a long time. None of them drank as they had the last two nights, and Zak found himself wishing that he had finished that kiss with Fey earlier that day.

"Today, we're having some fun," Zak said. He brought them to a small clearing, and picked up a pair of wooden swords that mimicked his real ones. Fey smiled widely; this was her kind of fun. She picked out her saber and dagger, and Jarlaxle showed his fake blades. Jarlaxle watched as Zak's swords tangled with Fey's, and it brought back memories of seeing their fathers do battle. Zak fought just like his father, although he had some room for refinement in his offensive strikes. Fey had been taught to fight by many different adventurers, and so she fought like them. But it was in the way that she moved that reminded Jarlaxle of Artemis. Jarlaxle saw quite a bit of himself in Fey's technique, as they sparred often together. But, while the two seemed like titans themselves, together they were like nature itself. Where Artemis and Drizzt had fought like the forces of heaven and hell, Zak and Fey's battle seemed more like two wolf cubs wrestling, each trying to get the killing position, but trying to test each other at the same, and neither trying to actually cause harm. Eventually, their sparring dance was split, as neither could best the other.

"The only person I've ever seen fight like that is my father, Jarlaxle, and myself," Fey said.

"You'd give my father a decent challenge. Get my grandfather angry, though, and nobody is standing up at the end of it all," Zak replied.

"I feel worn just watching you two fight," the mercenary snickered.

"Care to join us?" Zak asked, and Jarlaxle stepped towards Zak, jabbing out with his sword. Zak dodged that sword, and parried the second blade, and ducked as Fey tried to hit him on the back of the head with the side of her dagger. Jarlaxle struck at Fey, but she was able to parry it. Zak's long sword narrowly missed Jarlaxle's leg. Fey and Jarlaxle's weapons met several times before Zak was able to return to the fight. Zak smashed his sword against Jarlaxle's, causing Jarlaxle to drop his sword, and a dagger jabbed his rib. Jarlaxle cursed, and rubbed his side. He would have a bruise there.

Zak and Fey resumed their previous fight after that. Jarlaxle was once again impressed, only this time Fey seemed to have more confidence after defeating Jarlaxle, and eventually she bested Zak with a hit to his right thigh.

"And thus we have a victor," Jarlaxle said. Their sparring had lasted quite a while; the sun was now well above their heads. They broke for lunch, and Zak had an idea for something else they could do to make their sparring a little more interesting. He summoned Guenhwyvar, who once again gave Zak an accusing glance, although his time her glare was about the two companions' presence.

"They've helped up, Guen. They're welcome here; I'll not have your accusations. They may not be my father's friends, but they are my friends. Understand?" Zak said. Guenhwyvar looked at Fey, and relaxed.

"Thank you. Now, here's what I thought of."

Jarlaxle smirked as he saw Zak climb a tree. Zak was studying Fey, who was tracking Guenhwyvar. What Jarlaxle didn't know was that Guenhwyvar was well aware that Fey was tracking her, and Guenhwyvar was tracking Jarlaxle. If the panther was present, the three couldn't fight each other, or a six hundred pound panther would sit on their legs. Fey decided that since Guenhwyvar was tracking them all, she could find the other two by finding the panther. Jarlaxle, silently, dodged from tree to tree, and he checked. Zak had not heard or spotted him. Jarlaxle found a stick on the ground, and checked it balance. It would make a nice throwing knife. He stood in range of Zak, and threw the stick. It was dead-on, but he heard a roar, and suddenly found himself underneath Guenhwyvar's belly. Jarlaxle struggled and yelled, and Guenhwyvar shifted her weight so that she wasn't crushing Jarlaxle.

Zak turned just as the stick hit him on the head. He rubbed his head, and laughed at Jarlaxle's torment. Knowing that Jarlaxle wasn't going anywhere until the panther decided she was bored, Zak slipped away to find Fey, who now knew that Zak was tracking her. Zak could tell that she was leading him somewhere, and so he didn't directly follow her trail. While he found clues, he took alternate paths to find them, so that he would know where she was without being present himself. Eventually he spied her in a pass forty yards north of the wooded area. While it was open, there were still areas that were hidden from the ground level, and Zak found her in one such areas. He gripped his swords tightly as he slid down the side of the cliff silently. He snuck up behind her, and he raised his short sword to strike her on the back, when her leg caught his, and sent him to the ground. He tried to keep his footing, but when her wooden saber jabbed his side, he let himself fall. Fey stood over him, smiling.

"I win again," she said.

"Jarlaxle's still out there," Zak reminded her.

"Out there, underneath Guenhwyvar. I don't she'll be letting him go for a while" she pointed out.

Zak sat up, and dug his swords into the ground. Fey sat beside him, and their shoulders touched. Suddenly, memories flew back into their minds, as if they had been held back by a dam and someone had released the floodgates. Before, their recollections of their night together had been fuzzy and incomplete, but now they were quite vivid. And Zak wished, once again, that they hadn't been disturbed while on the hammock.

"What fates have been decided for me?" Zak asked, "Where will I be led, having befriended my father's rivals? Taken residence in his mentor's home? Part of me is frightened, and yet most of me is apathetic to what my father will think. And yet I haved lived and traveled with him for almost my entire life, and that has part of me confused."

"Because you're leading your own life now, Zak. My mother couldn't wait to get rid of me so that I could have my own life. The part of you that is afraid doesn't want to see how your father will act when he finds out. I'm guessing he's rather protective of you, right?" she said.

"He was. I think that's why I left, actually. I didn't want to be around him after my mother died because he would only get more protective."

"The best thing he can do to protect you is to let you protect yourself and have your own life. You life isn't dictated because you're the son of your parents. I learned that when I left with Jarlaxle. Sure, I'm following in their footsteps, but I've still had my own life. I made my own legacy on the road."

Zak winced. She was spot-on with her observations.

"You read people well," he said.

"And you're a very open person. It's a gift I inherited from both of my parents, and I learned to perfect from Jarlaxle."

"You've been open with me," Zak said.

"There's a reason for that," she told him.

"Which would be?"

Jarlaxle didn't know which side of his chest to rub. One side was bruised, and the other had just been released from a great pressure. He followed Guenhwyvar to wherever it was Zak and Fey had run off to, and they found their trail heading north towards one of the passes. Guenhwyvar eventually smelled them both, and growled loudly for them to hear, and Jarlaxle saw Fey's head pop up, but she wasn't looking around. Jarlaxle smiled and said,

"Guenhwyvar, let them be. They're not fighting."