Second Chances

by manic-intent

Young Zaknafein's perspective as the years progress interspersed with the 'present' life of Jarlaxle in Toril, a few thousand years in the future, when technology has begn to make its presence known. Updated-*Finished*.

15. Intersection

Intersection

            "Um…" S'kaerik began, uncertain of what to do, when the silence stretched longer.

            "Jarlaxle tells me that you are a professor in a Surface University?"  With relief, she realized he spoke Common – though not as perfectly as Jarlaxle, and his voice held the strange rasp of someone not accustomed to speaking, and the measured pace of a person with all the time in the world. 

            "Of paranormal natural history, yes," S'kaerik said, relieved that they were talking about her job.  That was easier.

            "And what are you doing in the Underdark?"  She was finding it difficult to maintain eye contact – the intense, ancient stare was extremely unsettling, so she focussed mainly on a point below the arch of his nose. 

            "Studying natural history in its element, and helping the Company direct the restoration of Old Cities."

            "I have never seen one of your kind before."  Nalfein seemed to jump from topic to topic as if his mind was considering several planes of thought all at the same time, and therefore, was carrying out several lines of conversation simultaneously.  S'kaerik hoped this was not the case.  The idea that she was talking to someone who could consider many ideas in depth at the same time was intimidating.

            "Well, both yourself and Jarlaxle have lived longer than my civilisation," S'kaerik smiled hesitatingly.  "And this is the first time we have entered the Underdark."

            "My last visit to the Surface was before The Summoning," Nalfein nodded.  "Baldur's Gate had no University then."

            "No, the Universities are a relatively recent trend," S'kaerik agreed, wondering where the conversation was going.  "Now every city believes it fashionable to have one, though Faerun's top Universities are those of Baldur's Gate, Candlekeep and Waterdeep."

            "Universities are ranked?"

            "Oh yes, based on several things, like the subjects offered, the quality of teaching, the libraries, the aptitude of the students and such."

            "Are all your cities connected by 'rail'?" Nalfein pronounced the last word as though it was still a strange and mysterious concept, like one of those massive flying machines that S'kaerik had seen humans try and design.

            "Um, the main ones are, as well as by maintained roads.  Rail travel is efficient and fast."

            "It is all mechanical?"
            "No magic is involved, if that's what you mean.  The engineers are worried that another time of no magic like what the books say may occur, and then there would be widespread problems and dangers to people."  S'kaerik was struggling to keep up with the dialogue, and it did not help that the entire business was beginning to sound like an interrogation, which was upsetting, because not only was it rather rude, but she had also not done anything to deserve this – she was here on a favour, after all, not for his amusement.  It was not as though she had absolutely nothing better to do other than talk to extremely old Dark Elves, even if said Dark Elves had massive libraries.

            "I am sorry," Nalfein said suddenly, glancing down for a moment as if in embarrassment.  "I am not used to the company of others, and it would appear that I have forgotten how to converse appropriately with another."

            For a sudden, horrible moment, S'kaerik thought that she had said all her grievances out loud, and opened her mouth to apologize in turn, but was cut off when Nalfein added, "I have some ability at psionic magic."

            "Were you reading my mind?" S'kaerik said, unsuccessfully trying to keep the abrupt burst of irritation at the violation from her voice.

            "Not as such," Nalfein replied mildly, "But I can 'hear' loud, surface thoughts of emotions if I do not put up my barriers.  Since generally I have no company, I have no barriers.  But if it offends you…" he narrowed his eyes for a moment, "It is done."

            S'kaerik was now rather deservedly extremely confused and mortified at the same time.  "Um…"

            "If my questions are too… numerous so as to be improper, please feel free to inform me."  There it was again – the edge of subtle manipulation that S'kaerik always noticed helplessly whenever talking to Jarlaxle.  With that sentence, he had effectively stopped further objections, if she did not want to feel discourteous.  Was this a general way in which Dark Elves interacted?  "And call me Nalfein," he added, a little conscientiously, as if he had just remembered this formality.

            "You can call me S'kaerik," S'kaerik said automatically.  "Er.  Actually there were two things I wanted to ask you… ask your aid in, that is."

            "You may ask," Nalfein pushed at the offending lock of hair again.  For some reason, the tips of S'kaerik's fingers itched to comb it back – that silky mane must feel magnificent… now where had that come from? Guiltily, she realized that he was waiting for her reply.

            "Firstly, I don't know if Jarlaxle told you this, but he gave me Zaknafein's – Zaknafein Do'Urden's – journal to translate, and I um, am having some problems with one of the sections.  It's all abbreviations and shorthand," she clarified, when Nalfein seemed surprised.

            "I had not known that he had a journal," Nalfein said thoughtfully.

            "Well, Jarlaxle says it's not his journal, but it reads like it," S'kaerik said, deciding to be truthful.  She rather thought that Nalfein would be more likely to help her if she mentioned Zaknafein's name.  "You're in it, if the evidence reads correctly."

            "Do you have this journal with you?"

            "It's in my rooms in Sshamath.  I need some accounts of your… old House politics before Malice became Matron, to try and string up the abbreviations."

            "But you are not sure that it is Zaknafein's journal?"

            "Well, if you could identify it that would be nice too," S'kaerik admitted.  "If you're willing to help me I can bring the journal to you next time… or give it to Jarlaxle to show you."

            "Why are you translating this journal?"

            "I feel that it will have a lot of historical interest and may promote further investment in the Underdark," S'kaerik grinned.  "Your brother Drizzt Do'Urden was very popular on the Surface."

            "How is he?" Nalfein smiled, as if at a private joke.

            "Dead," S'kaerik said.  "But he left behind a lot of his own journals."

            Nalfein nodded.  "I would like to read those."
            "I can get them for you.  Maybe in a few weeks or so on the next train from the Surface," S'kaerik shifted, but fought the urge to curl up in the chair.  "Along with any books you might want."

            "I was interested in the Candlekeep library," Nalfein said, with the crisp promptness of someone who had been waiting for her to say something related to it, so he could introduce the topic in a linear line like normal conversations.  The uneasy feeling returned, a little amplified now that she knew Nalfein was trying to humour her wishes. 

            "Well, they might notice if it goes missing," she said before she could stop herself.

            To her relief, Nalfein chuckled, showing that at least he had a sense of humour.  "That would not be necessary.  I meant that I had heard of the Candlekeep library from some of these books, and wanted to see some of its titles."

            "If you ever come to the Surface I might be able to take you into it," S'kaerik said cautiously.  "The Dean might fright at a… um…"
            "Dark Elf?" Nalfein supplied with a smile.

            "Yeah," S'kaerik agreed.  More than fright, actually – he was an old, fat man, and she had a sudden, terrible vision of him suffering a heart attack. "But I might be able to arrange it, because professors of the Five – that is to say, the Universities of Baldur's Gate, Waterdeep, Candlekeep, Amn and Neverwinter – have an agreement that they can visit any of the libraries with guests and borrow stuff.  Though you'd probably have to agree to um, let us look through your library as well." 

That would probably be the main point of debate – Nalfein's library might be able to convince professors to not only allow him, a Dark Elf, into the Surface libraries, but to also get them to come into the Underdark.

            "I may have to think about that further," Nalfein said, a little dismissively, once she spoke about his library.  Her heart sank a little.

            "We have great respect for books," she hastened to add, "And of course since all this is your property we would not think of borrowing without permission.  Do you have any particular titles that you are interested in from Candlekeep?"  Perhaps the lure of those books would be greater than his concern for his library. 

"Or I could arrange a copy of their catalogue – the listing of their titles, that is - to be sent to you – they compiled that years ago, and it keeps growing.  You can check off some of the books you want – if they're in print they may be available for purchase."  Printing, though still relatively new, was a growing business in the Surface, which was why the libraries of the Five had expanded meteorically in the last decade.

            "The catalogue would be greatly appreciated," Nalfein said, frowning a little, "But I may not agree to allow others to enter my library."

            "That's okay, I'd give you the listing anyway," S'kaerik said, her tail twitching irritably in frustration.  She had really wanted to look at the books.  "Do you have a catalogue of the books in your library?"

            "No." Nalfein smiled, apparently amused at her immediate downcast expression.  Weyr-Cats were not that good at hiding their emotions.  "But if you could spare several years of your life, you could try and make a catalogue."

            S'kaerik perked up.  Did this mean…? "You would let me look at your books?"

            Now it was Nalfein's turn to be startled, though it only showed in the slight widening of his eyes and the quirk to his mouth.  "You would be willing to spend many years of your short life in this library?"

            "I like books," S'kaerik said, as a way of answering that, ignoring the phrase 'short life'.  "That was my second request actually, whether you'd let me read some of your books – at least, those on Underdark history.  I'd be willing to do it in front of you so as to… er, so you can see I am not mishandling them in any way."

            "History books?"

            "That is my course of study," S'kaerik reminded him.  The frown again.  "Of course, it's really up to you whether or not you want to give permission." That was a stupid thing to say, she realized, once it came out.  Obviously it was up to him – by all impressions, he was definitely powerful enough such that no one could give him orders.

            "Not the… spell books?"

            Ah.  Now she understood some of his apprehension – or thought she did, anyway. "Oh no, those are of um, no interest to scholars," S'kaerik said, enjoying his surprise.  "We're really more interested in books that detail histories, especially if they have to do with the Underdark – the ways of life, customs, important events, things like that.  If they are primary source materials – which is to say, first person accounts – that would also be very valuable."

            Nalfein was looking at her as if she was some new sort of creature which might sprout wings at any moment.

            "Books on science, medicine… geography, sociology, laws… um, art, economics, philosophy, mathematics, biology and such will also be of academic interest, if you have those," she added brightly, since he did not seem inclined to comment.  "Because they may have new ideas, and the insight provided to Underdark trends of thought could be the source of many theses.  Jarlaxle said you had books in Surfacer tongues?"

            "Only a fraction of my books are in Dark Elven," Nalfein said absently, as if he was considering something else at the moment, "Most are in Undercommon."

            "Well, if you were willing to have visitors, other than entrance to Surface libraries there might be monetary incentives."

            "I do not require money," Nalfein said comfortably.

            "Since quite a bit of my pay goes towards books, I'd guess that if I had your library I wouldn't need it either," S'kaerik glanced at the books outside.

            "Can you read Undercommon?"

            "Not very well, but I can manage with a dictionary."

            Nalfein seemed to reach a decision.  S'kaerik watched in horrified fascination as some books slid out of various piles in the room and arranged themselves neatly at her feet, then she cringed as a magelight formed over her head.  "Those are in Surface tongues," he said, returning to his writing.  "While you wait for the mercenary you might want to look through them."

            "Can I borrow them out? I read like a tortoise, so I won't even be able to finish reading the first one, let alone analysing it," S'kaerik picked up one of the dusty tomes, and carefully opened a page, balancing the book on her lap such that the spine would not be affected.  The writing was spidery, but legible, and in Common.  "Or do you mind if I, um, come back? I might have to ask you a few things about the books, if you're willing to, er, suffer my presence."

            Nalfein smiled.  "Your presence is not that hard to bear.  You may return and read, if you wish.  I am not used to company, however, and my presence may be the one difficult to tolerate."

            S'kaerik congratulated herself inwardly on acquiring the invitation.  "Oh no, you've been very polite and understanding," she said with a grin.  "It's more exhausting talking to Jarlaxle."

            "Try ignoring him," Nalfein suggested, watching as she turned a page. 

            "That option's not available to me," S'kaerik said wryly, "He's a shareholder in the company, not to mention he can probably outfight me with no weapons."

            "That might not be likely, Lady Cat," came a familiar voice from the room entrance.  S'kaerik looked up guiltily, just in time to see Jarlaxle enter the room and bow to Nalfein, then tip his hat to her.

            "Your business is concluded?" Nalfein asked Jarlaxle, a quick, mysterious look of annoyance forming – then fading – from his face. 

            Jarlaxle nodded.  He said something to Nalfein in the High Tongue, and then grinned when Nalfein grimaced at him and replied haughtily.  More incomprehensible exchanges, then Nalfein snorted and went back pointedly to his writing.

            "Are you ready to leave, Lady Cat?"  S'kaerik blinked when he turned his attention to her.

            "Well," she said helplessly, looking at the books.  "What time is it?"

            Jarlaxle told her.

            "Um.  I'm really sorry about this, but can you come back in maybe four hours? If Nalfein's willing to let me stay that long… because I'd be free until then, after which I have to go for meetings."

            "Of course, Lady Cat," Jarlaxle grinned, and then said something to Nalfein, who ignored him.

            "I'm really sorry," S'kaerik repeated sheepishly.

            "There is no problem," Jarlaxle reassured her, with a wink at Nalfein that he did not acknowledge.  "Four hours, then."

**

            "That was not so bad, was it?" Jarlaxle asked, when they were back in Bregan D'aerthe and heading back to her quarters.

            "For the most part it was absolutely frightening, actually," S'kaerik retorted.  "Don't do that again."

            "Did I not hear you asking him whether you could return?"

            "I meant, don't drop me in potentially dangerous situations with scary people I don't know, again."

            "Ah, but how would you be able to make interesting acquaintances, otherwise?"

            "I'm not sure I want to meet your 'interesting acquaintances' anymore, Jarlaxle."  S'kaerik said dryly.  "The Gods know what they might be.  Deep dragons? Illithids? Some previously unknown race bent on mindless power?"

            "You do me much credit, Lady Cat," Jarlaxle said archly.  "If only my life was as interesting as you make it out to be.  And as I told you, you could charm Nalfein in any state."

            S'kaerik blushed.  "I don't think I charmed him – more like irritated him with all my requests and questions about his books and my inability to keep up with him."

            "Few people can keep up with Nalfein," Jarlaxle told her, "He has an inability to converse normally.  It is a result of all his time spent inside his library.  And you were doing very well." Jarlaxle considered informing S'kaerik that in actual fact, she had done extremely well without actually knowing so.  Nalfein had been impressed enough to allow her to come back to his library, and generally Jarlaxle did not know of anyone other than himself who had been allowed to return.  The feeling that he was probably going to win this wager was sweet.

            "I hope so," S'kaerik was saying, with some resignation.  "I'd better pray that I don't offend him.  The academic world would be very interested in his library."

            "You seem to do everything for this 'academic world' of yours," Jarlaxle said mildly.

            "Well, knowledge for future generations is important…"

            "Have you never actually done anything for yourself, Lady Cat?"

            S'kaerik's ears twitched, and Jarlaxle decided to back off gracefully such that she could still answer the question, but would not be offended.  "My apologies, Lady Cat.  That was an insolent question."

            "Apology accepted," S'kaerik said, a little distantly.  "You know, I've never thought of it that way before."

            "I have met some of your… surfacer university colleagues, and I am afraid to say that most of them do what they do for their own ends.  Power.  Prestige."  That he could understand, but S'kaerik's motivations were rather beyond him, though he would never admit that in front of her. 

            "Well, anything to get to the same end, I guess," S'kaerik said carefully, as if she did not want to malign any of her colleagues unnecessarily.  "And I'm probably not that saintly to begin with.  Part of why I'm doing this is for money."

            "But to buy more knowledge," Jarlaxle pointed out, "Knowledge that is not involved in power, like spells, and then apparently mainly for the distribution of said knowledge among others."

            "Do you check out everyone you interact with to this extent?" S'kaerik said, with mock suspicion.

            "Actually, it is apparently common knowledge among your colleagues that the enchanting, young female cat professor of Baldur's Gate spends all her money on books that are then on indefinite loan to the University library," Jarlaxle grinned wickedly when S'kaerik blushed again.

            "Since I don't read all of them at every moment, they might as well help other people than sit in my rooms gathering dust," she said, then glared at him when he laughed.  "What?"

            "Nothing, Lady Cat," Jarlaxle said innocently, or as innocently as he could, at any rate.  "Will you be in time for your meeting?"

            "Well, since Sshamath has the luxury of piped heated water, I probably will be," S'kaerik said thoughtfully, "Though I'd spend it fighting to stay awake, as usual.  What they mainly want to do at the moment is compile a Company map of Sshamath complete with annotations, and then discuss trade specifications with the appropriate authorities.  Since they're still in process of getting permission for us to see things of 'historical interest' – whatever those are – I'd probably be free for a while after that.  Sshamath isn't an abandoned city like Menzoberranzan, after all.  It's almost like a holiday.  And since Nalfein gave me permission to tell them of his library, I might as well bring that up as a topic."

            "Yes, that would be of interest," Jarlaxle said, considering if he could influence events such that S'kaerik would end up being assigned with Nalfein's library, and therefore have to spend more time in it.  He was not sure if he had to prod Nalfein into allowing that – he was quite certain that he did not need to, but if necessity arose, S'kaerik represented enough things that Nalfein wanted – such as a link to Surface libraries – such that if he was careful, he should be able to influence the old mage subtly without the mage noticing.

            Jarlaxle was enjoying himself immensely.

**

            S'kaerik watched Nalfein carefully as he read the journal, slender fingers occasionally turning a page.  She was actually supposed to be reading one of the books, but she wanted to know Nalfein's opinion of the journal.  Besides, he was not difficult to look at, since he possessed a Dark Elf's uncommon good looks.  Jarlaxle said that on some points Nalfein resembled his mother, and S'kaerik could now picture, at least in part, the beauty that Malice must have been. 

            Finally, he finished, and then turned back to some previous page as if to confirm something.  "I would agree that there is a high probability that this was Zaknafein's journal," he said, looking at another page.  "A very high probability."

            "But no certainty?" S'kaerik said, with a little disappointment.

            "You could confirm it by talking to his spirit," Nalfein suggested, "Ask a skilled cleric for help.  One good enough such that his summoning would be untainted by his belief and personality, such that you would get accurate answers."

            S'kaerik nodded.  She had some cleric friends in Baldur's Gate, though she wasn't sure if they would be willing to do this for her.  And a confirmation via summoning smacked of magic, which the academic world might not trust.  "But you can help me with the… rather incomplete part?"

            "I will help you," Nalfein agreed, "Though 'incomplete' would be a good term with which to describe the book.  Some of the pages are missing."

            "How can you tell?" S'kaerik asked in surprise.  This was new.  She put the tome on the chair and walked over when Nalfein beckoned.  Leaning over his shoulder, she looked at the marks he pointed out as he turned the pages.  The marks were deepest at the last page.

            "Someone removed pages from inside the book… and the pages after the last."

            The marks had looked old, about approximately as old as the writing, which was why S'kaerik had thought they were just mishandling by the owner, or later owners.  She leaned closer, frowning.  "I thought those were not recent."

            "They are not, but they are older than the journal," Nalfein said. "You might like to ask Jarlaxle for the other part of the journal, if it is with him.  However, if it was he who removed it on purpose, it is then obviously unlikely that he would aid you."

            "I was wondering why it ended so abruptly… I thought at that time that the author had grown bored with detailing his thoughts."

            "Perhaps it is not of interest," Nalfein said dismissively.  "Are a few pages all that important?"

            "Maybe," S'kaerik said, resolving to ask Jarlaxle later.  "Thanks," she added, turning to look at him, then realized in an instant how near her face was to his, and how much more handsome he was in profile and when close up, and she had to move before he saw her discomfiture. 

            Back in her chair and trying to avoid looking at him, she returned to her book and silently berated herself for being so easily distracted.  She did not notice that Nalfein was staring thoughtfully at her, cheek cushioned against his palm, his face unreadable.