Chapter Five

Drizzt never thought he could feel so content. All he ever wanted was to find acceptance and for someone to see him for who he was inside. Few people in the Underdark or anywhere in Faerun could see past his drow heritage.

But in a land where no one knew of the drow at all, he felt as though the fates had given him a second chance.

He and Legolas became good friends over the past few days, and they even gave him and Zaknafein their own chambers in the palace. While his father and Thranduil continued to butt heads, Drizzt and Zaknafein agreed to become part of the forces that protected the woodland realm from their enemies, at least for the time being. They proved to be potent allies against the endless stream of giant spiders that threatened the forest daily.

"That was the last of them," Drizzt commented as he and Legolas sat high in a tree one late afternoon. Several spider corpses lay strewn across the forest floor underneath them. "There will surely be more by the end of the tenday."

"You fight with such passion, more than I have ever seen," Legolas commented as the two of them took in the surrounding sights. From this vantage, they could see beyond the canopies far beyond the distance. Drizzt could see mountains to the west and north, and a lone peak far in the east. Legolas had happily educated him on the layout of this part of Middle Earth and he knew how to identify the Misty Mountains, the Grey Mountains and the Lonely Mountain.

"I am motivated in the cause," Drizzt explained as he relaxed against the branches, enjoying the breeze. "Arachnids are sacred to the spider queen."

"And you exact revenge on your people by killing them?"

Drizzt couldn't deny that accusation, and he only shrugged. He remembered the sting of his sister's six snake whip as a child whenever a spider had crawled into his sphere of vision. Because males were unworthy to gaze upon the sight of such a creature. Now, he got to kill them.

Of course, the vermin spiders of Mirkwood were large and dangerous, nothing like the common arachnid one might encounter in nature, and they posed a threat to the elves.

A comfortable silence fell between them and as Drizzt regarded Legolas, watching as his slender form perched on a branch, he followed the elf's gaze north. "Gundabad?" he surmised. Legolas had told him about the disturbing nightmares he had been having and how the mountains in the far north might have something to do with them.

"I have yet to inform Thranduil of this danger," Legolas began softly as he turned to Drizzt. "Because I don't know how."

"Surely a king must know what dangers might face his kingdom," Drizzt suggested. "That he might meet that threat in battle."

Legolas hesitated before speaking again. It pained Drizzt to see that the elf and his father were not as close as he was to Zaknafein. "You must go to Gundabad, my friend," he urged. "Do not let the unknown keep you from experiencing the world."

"My mother is trying to tell me something from across the void of death," Legolas lamented. "The woman who gave me life, whom I have no memory of and of whom my father refuses to acknowledge ever existed."

Drizzt wasn't sure how to comfort his friend. He had never known the love of a mother. Malice had given birth to him, but she had never loved him. She had only ever valued him as an asset because his fighting skill could bring her victory in her schemes against other noble houses. Thinking back on his decision to abandon his family at the height of their war with House Hun'ett, he wondered how they had fared without him or Zaknafein.

There was no word in the drow language for love. And there was no concept of it in his society. He was sure it existed in some drow's hearts, but he had yet to see it reflected in their eyes. Yet somehow, he knew he was capable of feeling it. He was sure that he felt love for Zaknafein. It was a closeness he felt for his father. He left Menzoberranzan because he longed to experience more of it. If only the drow of Menzoberranzan could turn from Lolth, perhaps they could feel it too.

Here in Mirkwood, he found Legolas, and the two had been nearly inseparable since their conversation in the dungeon. They had eagerly exchanged stories and legends of the worlds they came from. Drizzt dug deeply into the history of Middle Earth and he told Legolas stories about the drow, their culture and how they came to be.

And in all those stories, he had seen that even though the elves were a people that embraced love, Legolas and his father were clearly lacking in it. At least, so it seemed to an outsider.

"Your mother loved you," Drizzt murmured softly, echoing his silent contemplations. It was more of a thought than a statement. A fantasy he had played out in his own head. "To love someone so much that you would lie down your life for them. Perhaps that is why she is no longer with you. A threat to you that was so grave that it could only be eliminated with her own life. I know this kind of love, Zaknafein once laid down his life for me. It is not something to be taken lightly. And if the dead have returned to us, even in our dreams, we must listen to what they are telling us."

Legolas met his eyes. The two regarded one another, and Drizzt saw the realization in the elf's blue eyes. "Would you go to Gundabad with me?" he asked, his tone suddenly grim and serious.

Drizzt thought about it. He anticipated telling Zaknafein, he had no doubt that his father would want to come as well. Now that they were together again, Zaknafein restored to life, the two would not be separated again.

And where else was he to go? Now that they had evaded Malice, their path was their own. There would be no doubt in his mind. "I will go with you," he confirmed.

"Then let us go pack."

Thranduil paced back and forth in his throne room as he impatiently waited for his son to get back from the spider hunt. He tried to ignore the dull ache in the back of his head that had begun that morning. In front of him, Zaknafein reclined comfortably on a chaise lounge, snacking on various nuts and fruits.

"This place is quite wondrous," Zaknafein pointed out as he watched the elf king pace around like a caged bull. "Never has a male, even a noble male, enjoyed such luxury. Consider the food, for example. Berries and fruits? Green food? Of course, the drow must be content with what lives in the Underdark for our source of food. I wonder, have you ever enjoyed the sweetness of rothe meat?"

"You and your son have done nothing but take up resources since you've been here," Thranduil sneered, shooting an aggravated glare at him. He didn't know what a rothe was, nor did he care at the moment. He rubbed his temples. "You should consider yourself fortunate I do not throw you out."

"Throw us out if you will," Zaknafein said with a shrug. "Though I doubt Legolas would allow it so easily."

"Legolas is not the king of the woodland realm."

Even as he said that, Thranduil knew the truth of it. Legolas was the only reason he hadn't thrown them both out by now. He knew it would upset Legolas. And then perhaps he would have to throw his son and heir out along with them. So he allowed his son to convince him to let them stay.

That was an unsavory notion. The thought of Legolas wandering the wild world alone, facing its dangers, its horrors. It frightened the king more than he cared to admit. And yet, he knew in his heart that there was little keeping his son here. Certainly not a doting father. He had built up an impenetrable wall against his own son, but the idea of Legolas leaving was perhaps the only thing that could breach it.

"I do not believe the strongest repellent could force our sons apart," Zaknafein continued as he bit into a tomato. "And where Drizzt goes, I will go. So it seems we are stuck with one another."

Thranduil frowned. Legolas and Drizzt had become inseparable. Every time the king summoned his son, the drow was not far behind. They fought together; they took their meals together. They spent hours swapping stories, the sound of their chatter echoing through the corridors of the palace late into every night.

Thranduil resented that friendship. It was incredible that Legolas could take to a complete stranger more so than his own father. And even as he thought that, Thranduil quickly suppressed any emotion that accompanied it, especially the one of guilt. It was his fault he wasn't close to his son.

"I am patient," Thranduil spoke up to Zaknafein, tuning into the present as the pain in his head was becoming harder to ignore. "A friendship is a curious thing. Even one as strong as theirs will eventually show its cracks. And when it does, I will be ready. Enjoy your temporary stay in my realm, drow."

Zaknafein cocked his head curiously at Thranduil, trying to find out if his own son's relationships with others seriously threatened him.

The drow's curious expression was the last thing Thranduil was aware of. Pain erupted across his temple, a white hot agony overwhelming his senses. He was vaguely aware of Zaknafein's look of concern as he winced hard, gripping his head.

He meant to turn away, to dismiss himself from the area, but as he did, the whole world seemed to turn on its side, the edges of his vision folding in around him.

And then, the ground suddenly rushed up at his face and his thoughts were no more.