Chapter 3:
By the time the two returned to camp, the fire was rebuilt and Sam was cooking dinner with the help of Merry (who was more trusted around food than Pippin). Frodo was helping Aragorn with the wounds, and Pippin was running to and fro, fetching whatever was needed. Gimli was by the fire, once again cleaning his axe and Boromir was having his shoulder dressed by Aragorn.
"Aragorn," Legolas said, stepping into the light from the fire. "I have found him, and told him of our desire to thank him for his most noble aid." Aragorn nodded and gave the task of bandaging Boromir's shoulder to Frodo. All looked when the dark figure emerged into the light.
They could now tell that he was tall, as tall as Legolas, and moved with the same grace. His clothing was older and worn, but his twin swords were shining as if they had been forged yesterday. The hood of his cloak was up, casting his face into shadow, though a lock of white hair escaped the darkness. Soft leather boots covered his feet and his hands appeared gloved. A large pouch hung at his hip and his arm hovered protectively near it.
"Welcome, friend, to our camp. We have little to spare, but what we have we offer freely with gratitude." Drizzt looked around the camp. This tall one, this Aragorn, reminded him of Wulfgar, a fighter trained with elfin masters, a kingly warrior without a people. He saw a dwarf near the fire and for a moment all he could see was Bruenor before reality seeped back in and he realized it could not be so. His eyes also took in the four halflings with the strange feet. The other human was also seen, and all of this was in mere moments.
"I appreciate your gratitude, but I fear you are foolish to offer to one you do not know."
"And why would that be? If you're not kind to strangers, how will you get any new friends?" This came from one of the halflings…Pippin he believed he was called. He was truly puzzled.
"Because," he said, reaching up and pulling his hood back, "I am a drow. He noticed the lack of not only revulsion or fear, but also comprehension. "You have heard of the drow?" He asked them, watching the wonder on the halflings' faces at his black skin and white hair. He raised his eyes to look straight in the eyes of Aragorn, and saw confusion and surprise, probably at the color of his eyes.
"Nay. I have never heard stories of elves such as yourself…you are an elf?"
"Aye, he is a dark elf, that is what the drow are. I have heard tales of such a race, but they are even more rare than tales of hobbits." Drizzt looked at Legolas. He was not surprised that the elf had heard of his race, though he was surprised at his benevolence.
"You have heard tales of drow, yet you still accept me in your camp?"
"Aye." Legolas smiled, "You are different from what the tales say. You have to be, for you are above the ground."
"What do the tales say?" asked Aragorn curiously.
"Now is not the time for tales. Now is the time for a good meal. Tales are for later, with a good pipe. Come and eat. Please stay, Master Drow, and dine with us." Drizzt allowed himself a small smile.
"I am honored at your hospitality. I will stay."
"Oh, Wonderful! Let me just get you a plate Mister…uh…what is your name? We cannot keep calling you "Drow," now, can we? It would be impolite." Drizzt's smile grew. He liked this halfling.
"My name is Drizzt. Drizzt Do'Urden."
"Ah. Welcome Mister Drizzit! My name is Samwise Gamgee. Would you care for some sausage?"
TBC
A proper hobbit welcome, don't you think?
By the time the two returned to camp, the fire was rebuilt and Sam was cooking dinner with the help of Merry (who was more trusted around food than Pippin). Frodo was helping Aragorn with the wounds, and Pippin was running to and fro, fetching whatever was needed. Gimli was by the fire, once again cleaning his axe and Boromir was having his shoulder dressed by Aragorn.
"Aragorn," Legolas said, stepping into the light from the fire. "I have found him, and told him of our desire to thank him for his most noble aid." Aragorn nodded and gave the task of bandaging Boromir's shoulder to Frodo. All looked when the dark figure emerged into the light.
They could now tell that he was tall, as tall as Legolas, and moved with the same grace. His clothing was older and worn, but his twin swords were shining as if they had been forged yesterday. The hood of his cloak was up, casting his face into shadow, though a lock of white hair escaped the darkness. Soft leather boots covered his feet and his hands appeared gloved. A large pouch hung at his hip and his arm hovered protectively near it.
"Welcome, friend, to our camp. We have little to spare, but what we have we offer freely with gratitude." Drizzt looked around the camp. This tall one, this Aragorn, reminded him of Wulfgar, a fighter trained with elfin masters, a kingly warrior without a people. He saw a dwarf near the fire and for a moment all he could see was Bruenor before reality seeped back in and he realized it could not be so. His eyes also took in the four halflings with the strange feet. The other human was also seen, and all of this was in mere moments.
"I appreciate your gratitude, but I fear you are foolish to offer to one you do not know."
"And why would that be? If you're not kind to strangers, how will you get any new friends?" This came from one of the halflings…Pippin he believed he was called. He was truly puzzled.
"Because," he said, reaching up and pulling his hood back, "I am a drow. He noticed the lack of not only revulsion or fear, but also comprehension. "You have heard of the drow?" He asked them, watching the wonder on the halflings' faces at his black skin and white hair. He raised his eyes to look straight in the eyes of Aragorn, and saw confusion and surprise, probably at the color of his eyes.
"Nay. I have never heard stories of elves such as yourself…you are an elf?"
"Aye, he is a dark elf, that is what the drow are. I have heard tales of such a race, but they are even more rare than tales of hobbits." Drizzt looked at Legolas. He was not surprised that the elf had heard of his race, though he was surprised at his benevolence.
"You have heard tales of drow, yet you still accept me in your camp?"
"Aye." Legolas smiled, "You are different from what the tales say. You have to be, for you are above the ground."
"What do the tales say?" asked Aragorn curiously.
"Now is not the time for tales. Now is the time for a good meal. Tales are for later, with a good pipe. Come and eat. Please stay, Master Drow, and dine with us." Drizzt allowed himself a small smile.
"I am honored at your hospitality. I will stay."
"Oh, Wonderful! Let me just get you a plate Mister…uh…what is your name? We cannot keep calling you "Drow," now, can we? It would be impolite." Drizzt's smile grew. He liked this halfling.
"My name is Drizzt. Drizzt Do'Urden."
"Ah. Welcome Mister Drizzit! My name is Samwise Gamgee. Would you care for some sausage?"
TBC
A proper hobbit welcome, don't you think?