Disclaimer: I don't own them.

A/N: Once again: I changed some things in the last chapter, but it has no  major effects on the story line, so if you want you can go and have a look, but if you don't it's fine.

LadyJanelly: Yes, I think that's his strongest point, to be able to look past the outward appearances of people even though he's not really a "nice guy".

Discoveries

You are waiting in a dark, cluttered side street near the tavern where you are to meet him tonight. It is slowly getting dark and the light has an eerie, unreal quality which makes all colours seem oddly dull. You have just raised your hand to once again tug on the hood of your cloak even though you know perfectly well that your features are concealed as much as possible, when the soft scrape of boots alerts you to another person's presence behind your back and you whirl around hands already on the daggers you got as a poor substitute for your scimitars. 

Of course it's him. Who else would have the nerve to sneak up behind you in such a dangerous place?

"Don't do that." You snap in irritation, which produces a smirk on the golden features.

"Afraid?"

You decide not to credit this ridiculous question with an answer. At least he expects no facade of false happiness from you, which is a relief. You can be as hostile as you want without having to waste energy on pretending otherwise.

"So is this where we'll be staying tonight?" You inquire with a disgusted look at the shabby building which presently provides shelter for some of the shadier characters of this town. You know what the inside must be like after you have seen them enter. Dark, dirty with badly repaired furniture and eternally haunted by the disgusting smell of alcohol, vomit and other repulsive fluids which always seems to cling to places like this one.

A short nod.

"Yes, let's go."

Inwardly sighing you follow. At least in this place no one will look at you too closely enough to discover your true identity. Hopefully this night will be over soon. Already you are torn between a strange helpless excitement which is sending a wave of adrenaline through your body and angry resentment at the fact that he's the one who invoked this feeling.

Fighting frost giants is easier than merely being here!

As the two of you mount a shaky staircase that leads to the room he has rented from the fat, greasy landlord you idly wonder what he's going to do about the vermin infested bed, which you'll certainly encounter in there, because you are quite certain he'd never touch something so filthy.

You are right. As soon as you have closed the door behind you he wriggles slender fingers and a muted reddish glow descends on the offending piece of furniture, turning it into something a lot more comfortable and clean. Well prepared as always, you think cynically while taking off you cloak.

You don't get any further though, because he suddenly turns around, takes hold of your shirt and pulls you close with a hungry look in the amber coloured eyes. Before you have the time to think about it your treacherous lips have opened to grant him entrance. After a minute which seems like an eternity and leaves you feeling slightly dazed, you let yourself be led towards the bed. You don't resist as he pushes you backwards and straddles your thighs as you lie amidst the clean sheets, dark skin providing a stark contrast to their whiteness.

For now he seems content to watch you, providing the moment you need to recover and ask the question which has been on your mind all these weeks.

"Did it work?"

He takes the time to leisurely trace the graceful line of your lips with cool fingers before he asks: "Would I be here if it had not?"

"I guess not."

"The whole city was in turmoil over it! You should have seen the reactions. Some of them were very telling."

He does not say what kind of reactions he means, but you can imagine them well enough. And the thought leaves you feeling weary. You wouldn't expect anything else, after all the time you spent up here under the sun you know better, but sometimes, just sometimes it is rather tiring to ignore or accept the prejudices of others without taking them to heart.

"And you Rashiel? What did you say? A dead drow is a good drow? Or is it the colour of my skin which fascinates you so? Would you take any dark elf provided he's beautiful enough to meet your standards?"

For a second you are frightened upon hearing the amount of resigned bitterness in your questions. You must not let yourself think like this! The look he gives you is unreadable, does he even know? Does he care?

"You are unique, probably too unique for this world I would say."

His answer comes as a surprise to you. You have expected something more along the lines of: Yes I would, now get on your knees. This strange statement is something you won't forget for a long time. There's another question on your mind though and apparently he has anticipated it, because he shakes his head before he draws you into another kiss, effectively sealing your lips. Calculating as always, never prepared to give without taking something in return.

Insistent hands are tugging on your shirt, sliding under the fabric to touch heated skin, nails scraping slightly on your stomach, making you shiver, but two can play this game and if he expects you to obey the rules he'll have to do it too.

You take hold of his arms not very tight, but with just the amount of pressure that is needed to stop him.

"Cattie-brie?"

A soft sigh, he doesn't like her, but answers nonetheless.

"Will leave the city tomorrow. I believe she was packing when I left."

You frown and tighten your grasp. That is not enough. He's also frowning.

"I don't particularly care for her mental wellbeing you know, but after spending three weeks crying in her rooms she seems to be recovering, enough to travel at least. The mistress has taken care of her."

That is probably all you'll get out of him. It'll have to suffice. You allow him to shake off your grip and open the buttons of your shirt. Warm lips and slight touches up and down your chest, you can feel how need is building somewhere inside you. This is the moment you hate the most, because you know that soon all control will elude you, but there is nothing you could do to prevent it. You are not even so sure anymore whether you actually want to. More touches, touches that bring distracting sensations.

There was a reason, which you can't quite recall at the moment, which made being here uncomfortable. You decide to ignore that reason, close your eyes and concentrate instead on the sensations caused by clever hands that somehow are everywhere on your body.

Somebody is moaning. It is your own voice.

"Take off my clothes."

Another voice. You don't object though, because the thought of touching that smooth, golden skin secretly fills you with guilty anticipation. You can admit this only now, because now you can't resist anyway.

The cloak goes first, then the shirt, the belt with the weapons and wands until you kneel in front of him your fingers resting on the fine brownish fabric of his pants. Should you stop here, wait until he orders you to go on? You know he will and you still don't want to appear too eager, even though he has realized long ago that despite everything you say, your body seems to have its own mind about such things.

Hands tangling in your hair. "What are you waiting for?" Words spoken in a husky voice.

After this you don't hesitate any longer and take off the soft leather boots before you free his erection. You watch mesmerized as your hands, controlled by something else than conscious thought, slowly glide up long legs before touching that most sensitive place, a sharp intake of breath from above as your lips come into contact with the tip.

"Yesss." Softly hissed, when you open your mouth and take him in. It does not last for long though and soon he orders you to get back on the bed again to proceed with the removal of what remains of your own clothing. When he starts to prepare you carefully for what will certainly be the first of many times tonight, you realize that you haven't even thought about disobeying his command, but before you can become too upset about your discovery all logic and introspection is once again buried deeply under pure sensation.

****

After I have taken him fast the first time, reducing the urgency that had built up during long weeks of waiting and anticipation, I lie next to him in the bed, breathing hard, relishing his scent, mingled with my own and that of our fulfilment. His eyes are closed and I can see his chest rise and fall with each deep breath. A strand of sweaty white hair is plastered to his temple. He looks thoroughly fucked, virtually irresistible.

Slowly, lazily I let my hands wander along familiar paths, provoking a much appreciated reaction further down. His perseverance never ceases to amaze me. He doesn't look as if he's inclined to move much anytime soon though and I just continue my slow stroking, content for the moment.

The relatively peaceful atmosphere is suddenly disturbed when the door is thrown open and bangs loudly against the wall, revealing the one person I have absolutely no wish to see at a moment like this. Catti-brie. She barges in shortly followed by Burash whose eyes nearly fall out of his head upon seeing us.

"What have you done to him?!" He asks Drizzt sharply. And that sets me off. I know that I'm irrevocably damning myself by doing this, but I simply cannot help it I start to laugh and can't stop. So typical that Burash would think of him as the one who is to blame for this.

The girl only stares at the friend she believed dead until now, while said friend has turned a sickly grey colour and futilely tries to cover his nakedness with a sheet. He's obviously unable to explain anything right now. The same can not be said about her though and unlike Burash she has caught on remarkably fast.

"You?" Is all she says, turning to me wide eyed and with a look of shocked betrayal on her face. I can only laugh harder, wasting the moment of surprise in which I could still have gotten away. I'm finally caught. It only sinks in when I feel the cold tip of her sword at my throat. I stop laughing and regard her with a cold gaze. There's no need to play nice anymore.

I have no idea how they managed to find us here, not until I see the pendant which is still dangling from her fist. I know what it is. I helped to create it after all. How could I forget about something so important? Not only did it alert her to the fact that Drizzt is still alive, it also allowed Burash to help her trace him with the utmost accuracy.

By now my old friend has become aware that his first assessment of the situation was inaccurate. He's still confused though.

"What is the meaning of this?" He asks me, obviously hoping that I will do something to explain this scene. I stay silent, having no time to say anything before the girl makes a surprisingly precise guess considering she has only had seconds to consider the circumstances in which they found us.

"You forced him!"

I decide not to deny it. He'll tell her anyway now that she has seen us like this. He'll pour his poor, battered heart out and I'll be damned, so why not hurt her while I still can.

"Yes, first at the cost of your life and then his own."

I watch her mind working through this and can actually tell the second she realizes what my last sentence means. The sword starts quivering slightly and because it's so very sharp it even draws a little bit of blood from me. I refuse to react to that though and just look her calmly in the eyes, smiling cruelly all the while.

Then as if obeying a silent command we both turn to gaze at him. He stares back with a look of utmost horror on his face.

A/N: I hope everybody knows what pendant I'm talking about. If not: It's the one Alustriell once gave his friends, which Catti-brie later used to find him in Menzoberranzan.