Disclaimer: I don't own Drizzt or any of the Forgotten Realms characters or
places. Everything else is mine.
Slash in upcoming chapters. If you're not comfortable with it, don't read it.
***************************************** Brionne walked into the clearing alone. Behind him, Nala stood waiting with Drizzt, hidden in the edge of the forest. She had woken a few hours ago, and seemed in better health. Brionne knew Drizzt wasn't pleased to stay behind, to let Brionne be the one to see if this was a safe place before all three of them were exposed, but Brionne was the one who could speak to the hut's inhabitants, so he was the one to meet them.
Ahead of him lay a small hut, with a thatched roof and a sprouting garden to one side. Behind the house, they had seen a small empty corral, and a small stream running through the edge of the man-made clearing. Along the treeline was row after row of stacked logs. A woodcutter then, Brionne thought.
A dog tied in the front yard barked and bristled at him. Chickens pecked and scratched at the ground at his feet, ignoring the dog. A small mark carved above the doorway caught his attention, the seven-pointed star of the Sisters. He allowed it to give him some hope, but didn't lower his guard. The person who had carved that may not be the one living here still.
With care, he evaluated his posture. He let his exhaustion show through in the tilt of his head, the way his right shoulder hung lower than the left. He cradled the right arm against his chest. Under the sleeve, it was bruised from wrist to elbow, ugly marks in red, purple and black. To become what he needed to be at this time only required him to stop pretending to be strong.
Still far outside the dog's reach, he stopped walking. He could almost feel Drizzt watching him from the woods.
"Stay inside!" he heard a muffled voice say, from behind the closed door. A woman's voice, sharp with fear. A moment later the door opened, and the farmwife stepped out, a crossbow in her hands. She looked to be a simple woman, clothed in a rough homespun grey dress with a knitted red sash around her waist. Her dark hair was pulled back from her face into what looked to be a braid down her back. Her brown eyes were wide, but her aim was steady, pointed at his chest.
Brionne spread his arms wide, not bothering to hide the wince of pain from his wound. Let her see you're unarmed, he told himself. Let her choose her own time to speak.
"What do you want?" she asked after a moment, still wary. The door behind her opened a crack, and he could see a small face peeking out.
"Food," Brionne replied, "A place to rest. I can pay." This was the test. When he had decided to go up to the cabin, he had left almost all their coin with the Fey. They hadn't expected someone who worked for their money to kill him for the coins in his pocket, but they could demand it and then chase him away. If the woodcutter's wife would offer food and rest in exchange for coin, the place was at least a little safe, and they would be better for having spent a night here to recover their strength. If she would rob him and chase him off, they would lose just the few coins he carried in their gamble.
The woman's lips pressed into a thin line. "There's a town not half a day's travel east. Somebody there'll sell y' food."
Brionne shook his head. "Please." He put all of his pain, all of his exhaustion into that word. "Please, I cannot go to town." He met her eyes, feeling her determination wavering. Look young, he thought to himself, not a threat. He felt himself sway from weariness, and it wasn't an act.
"Sit down, child," her voice was softer. "Before you fall down." He obeyed, resisting the urge to tell her he was older than she was. The ground was comforting beneath him. "I'll feed y', but I wont say y' can sleep here. M' husband'll be back soon and I guess he'll chase y' off." She lowered the tip of the crossbow bolt as he sat in the sparse springtime grass of the yard.
******************************* Alustriel watched from the arched window of her tower as the contingent of dwarves made their way through her city. Buenor Battlehammer and his daughter, the red-haired human Catti-Brie, lead the way.
In the middle of a pack of dwarves walked their prisoner, a human-sized person in wizard's robes, bound and gagged. Occasionally he would falter, and the dwarves behind him would prod him forward with their weapons.
She felt her soft smile beginning to falter. Besides Catti-Brie and the prisoner, none in the party was taller than the dwarves. Where was Drizzt? Wouldn't he have come with his friends, if for no other reason than to visit in Silverymoon with her?
With a growing feeling of dread, she left her chambers and descended the stairs, going to meet the dwarves and find what trouble had beset them.
*******************************
In the end, he had called Nala and Drizzt out of the forest, and the woman, Anja, fed them all. It was plain fare, but after so long on the stale bread in Brionne's bag, the rough bread and baked potatoes seemed like a feast. Drizzt kept his weapons hidden, and when they made no sign of being a threat, she started to trust them.
The small children Brionne had glimpsed in the doorway came out to investigate the strangers. There was a boy, around six years of age, and a girl two years younger. With a smile lingering at his lips, Drizzt watched them from under his hood. They were as plain as their mother, but they glowed with the warmth of a child who is loved.
They were finishing the meal when Anja's husband returned, a sturdy looking man driving a wagon. The horse that pulled it was old-looking and grey. The wagon was full of logs. Seeing strangers in his yard, he jumped down, ax in hand.
Drizzt watched him, his hand not far from where his cloak hid his scimitar. He saw Brionne take Nala's hand, though the young man smiled at the woodcutter in a warm and welcoming manner; humble and grateful.
Anja and her husband spoke for a moment. Her voice sounded relaxed. Her husband responded, seeming to agree with something. Drizzt glanced at Brionne, and saw hope in the young man's eyes.
In the end Dalt, Anja's husband, went into the house and came out with cheese and hard summer sausages, and the trio ate again at his insistence. Anja seemed displeased with his decision until he spoke to her with soft words, and pointed to the seven-pointed star above their door.
Drizzt resolved to ask Brionne about it, if he ever had enough of the right words.
***********************
The hunter looked to the clouds and cursed, her voice too quiet to be heard by the men just in ear-shot to either side. "To Brambleton!" she ordered, louder. "The sky is going to open tonight. They'll look for shelter and we may find out where from my agent in town."
The men wheeled their horses and the dogs, dejected by their failure, slunk along after them. Even if they had somehow found a scent before the storm broke, the rain would wash it away before they could follow it very far.
*********************
Slash in upcoming chapters. If you're not comfortable with it, don't read it.
***************************************** Brionne walked into the clearing alone. Behind him, Nala stood waiting with Drizzt, hidden in the edge of the forest. She had woken a few hours ago, and seemed in better health. Brionne knew Drizzt wasn't pleased to stay behind, to let Brionne be the one to see if this was a safe place before all three of them were exposed, but Brionne was the one who could speak to the hut's inhabitants, so he was the one to meet them.
Ahead of him lay a small hut, with a thatched roof and a sprouting garden to one side. Behind the house, they had seen a small empty corral, and a small stream running through the edge of the man-made clearing. Along the treeline was row after row of stacked logs. A woodcutter then, Brionne thought.
A dog tied in the front yard barked and bristled at him. Chickens pecked and scratched at the ground at his feet, ignoring the dog. A small mark carved above the doorway caught his attention, the seven-pointed star of the Sisters. He allowed it to give him some hope, but didn't lower his guard. The person who had carved that may not be the one living here still.
With care, he evaluated his posture. He let his exhaustion show through in the tilt of his head, the way his right shoulder hung lower than the left. He cradled the right arm against his chest. Under the sleeve, it was bruised from wrist to elbow, ugly marks in red, purple and black. To become what he needed to be at this time only required him to stop pretending to be strong.
Still far outside the dog's reach, he stopped walking. He could almost feel Drizzt watching him from the woods.
"Stay inside!" he heard a muffled voice say, from behind the closed door. A woman's voice, sharp with fear. A moment later the door opened, and the farmwife stepped out, a crossbow in her hands. She looked to be a simple woman, clothed in a rough homespun grey dress with a knitted red sash around her waist. Her dark hair was pulled back from her face into what looked to be a braid down her back. Her brown eyes were wide, but her aim was steady, pointed at his chest.
Brionne spread his arms wide, not bothering to hide the wince of pain from his wound. Let her see you're unarmed, he told himself. Let her choose her own time to speak.
"What do you want?" she asked after a moment, still wary. The door behind her opened a crack, and he could see a small face peeking out.
"Food," Brionne replied, "A place to rest. I can pay." This was the test. When he had decided to go up to the cabin, he had left almost all their coin with the Fey. They hadn't expected someone who worked for their money to kill him for the coins in his pocket, but they could demand it and then chase him away. If the woodcutter's wife would offer food and rest in exchange for coin, the place was at least a little safe, and they would be better for having spent a night here to recover their strength. If she would rob him and chase him off, they would lose just the few coins he carried in their gamble.
The woman's lips pressed into a thin line. "There's a town not half a day's travel east. Somebody there'll sell y' food."
Brionne shook his head. "Please." He put all of his pain, all of his exhaustion into that word. "Please, I cannot go to town." He met her eyes, feeling her determination wavering. Look young, he thought to himself, not a threat. He felt himself sway from weariness, and it wasn't an act.
"Sit down, child," her voice was softer. "Before you fall down." He obeyed, resisting the urge to tell her he was older than she was. The ground was comforting beneath him. "I'll feed y', but I wont say y' can sleep here. M' husband'll be back soon and I guess he'll chase y' off." She lowered the tip of the crossbow bolt as he sat in the sparse springtime grass of the yard.
******************************* Alustriel watched from the arched window of her tower as the contingent of dwarves made their way through her city. Buenor Battlehammer and his daughter, the red-haired human Catti-Brie, lead the way.
In the middle of a pack of dwarves walked their prisoner, a human-sized person in wizard's robes, bound and gagged. Occasionally he would falter, and the dwarves behind him would prod him forward with their weapons.
She felt her soft smile beginning to falter. Besides Catti-Brie and the prisoner, none in the party was taller than the dwarves. Where was Drizzt? Wouldn't he have come with his friends, if for no other reason than to visit in Silverymoon with her?
With a growing feeling of dread, she left her chambers and descended the stairs, going to meet the dwarves and find what trouble had beset them.
*******************************
In the end, he had called Nala and Drizzt out of the forest, and the woman, Anja, fed them all. It was plain fare, but after so long on the stale bread in Brionne's bag, the rough bread and baked potatoes seemed like a feast. Drizzt kept his weapons hidden, and when they made no sign of being a threat, she started to trust them.
The small children Brionne had glimpsed in the doorway came out to investigate the strangers. There was a boy, around six years of age, and a girl two years younger. With a smile lingering at his lips, Drizzt watched them from under his hood. They were as plain as their mother, but they glowed with the warmth of a child who is loved.
They were finishing the meal when Anja's husband returned, a sturdy looking man driving a wagon. The horse that pulled it was old-looking and grey. The wagon was full of logs. Seeing strangers in his yard, he jumped down, ax in hand.
Drizzt watched him, his hand not far from where his cloak hid his scimitar. He saw Brionne take Nala's hand, though the young man smiled at the woodcutter in a warm and welcoming manner; humble and grateful.
Anja and her husband spoke for a moment. Her voice sounded relaxed. Her husband responded, seeming to agree with something. Drizzt glanced at Brionne, and saw hope in the young man's eyes.
In the end Dalt, Anja's husband, went into the house and came out with cheese and hard summer sausages, and the trio ate again at his insistence. Anja seemed displeased with his decision until he spoke to her with soft words, and pointed to the seven-pointed star above their door.
Drizzt resolved to ask Brionne about it, if he ever had enough of the right words.
***********************
The hunter looked to the clouds and cursed, her voice too quiet to be heard by the men just in ear-shot to either side. "To Brambleton!" she ordered, louder. "The sky is going to open tonight. They'll look for shelter and we may find out where from my agent in town."
The men wheeled their horses and the dogs, dejected by their failure, slunk along after them. Even if they had somehow found a scent before the storm broke, the rain would wash it away before they could follow it very far.
*********************