"This is not your momma's hurt/comfort. "
Disclaimer: I do not own Forgotten Realms or any characters, lands, or items from the TSR world. They belong to their respective copyright holders..
Rating: R
Warnings: Slash, violence, violent rape, damaged people behaving in dysfunctional ways. Mentions of child abuse.
Summary: An AU that begins when Drizzt is captured and tortured in the Baenre complex during Starless Night. How far will Dantrag Baenre go to make sure Drizzt lives to fight him, and how far will another go to save him?
Note: Sorry. I try. I still cannot find any liking of Catti-bree in my heart. Tell me if I take her too far out of character.
Thank you so much for the reviews, people. It really gives me motivation to keep writing it down instead of just letting this story live in my head. I really appreciate it.
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The sound of a scream echoed down the halls, and Entreri felt the click in his mind that signaled the shift into his working self. The pale wraiths of his emotions fell away from him, to drift behind in some other place where they could not touch or comment on the acts he was about to commit. He felt stronger, quicker, as if the fire of his spirit was burning brighter.
The door was not meant to hold a prisoner within; anyone who was brought here would be in chains, or otherwise no threat to the woodwork. Entreri's kick shattered the doorframe around the lock, sending the door crashing against the wall, where it hung at a sad angle from it's damaged hinges.
The scent of the room slid through him, the ghost of another time, another place. The odors assailed his senses, each one with it's own connection to his memories; the mingling of sweat and pain, the blend of sex and blood. For half a heartbeat, he was not here, he was in that Calimport back alley, and it was his blood, his sex, his pain and sweat.
Then a young-seeming drow moved to intercept him, in that split-second after the door broke, and he was once again in the Baenre torture chamber; unhurt, unafraid, and there was a job to be done.
Professional eyes surveyed the room as he raised his weapons against his attacker. Against the far wall, a dressed and armored drow looked over his shoulder, crimson eyes wide at the interruption. Beyond him, Entreri could see only white hair, black skin and a worrisome amount of blood.
"Shoot, woman!" he shouted as the expected glowing arrows failed to appear. He spared half a glance at her, caught an impression of wide blue eyes and a body frozen in horror at what she was seeing. "Gods damn you, shoot!"
The young drow attempted another slash at his face, opening a hair-thin scratch in his cheek. He returned the favor with a cut that opened the dark throat from ear to ear. A streak of light shot past him as his opponent fell, choking on his own blood, to the stone floor. The arrow struck not the drow who was roughly disengaging himself from his victim, but instead the bracket holding the battered dark-elf to the wall.
Metal and stone parted ways with a sharp ping, and the rescue party saw a flash of lavender eyes, white teeth, as Drizzt spun, his elbow catching his tormenter in the right temple as he twisted. The other drow stumbled back, bringing up a hand to defend himself, and Drizzt swung the bracket-laden chain at his head. His hands were fast, faster than any mundane creature's had a right to be, and he blocked the chain, but not the sweep of the bracket, and the square of metal struck him a hard blow on the side of his face.
Drizzt kicked him in his unclothed, unarmored crotch as Entreri and Catti-bree watched, and the drow fell. No shred of sanity could be seen in the lavender eyes as Drizzt capitalized on the moment of weakness, swinging the chain with precision over and over again, smashing skull, jaw, cheekbone. The body before him moved less with each blow, until he stopped raising his hands against the violence, stopped trying to roll out of the way, until his head was nothing but blood and bone and the grey of his brains were clinging to the chain and spread on the stones of the floor.
The drow was long dead before Drizzt stopped striking the corpse and stood staring at it, his breath ragged in his chest, his knees trembling with the effort of standing. Aching quiet filled the room for a moment, and then Catti-Bree was vomiting by the door.
Entreri watched as lavender eyes scanned the room, wild and unseeing. Drizzt swayed and Entreri caught him before he hit the stones. The black skin was warm to the touch, too warm, and slick with sweat and blood. The ranger's eyes met his, and he felt a strange shiver move through him. He is hurt... a long silent voice in the back of his mind whispered. He is no otherworldly being, he is no embodiment of his martial style...he is only a man, and he can be hurt...Like me. Entreri slowly lowered himself and the limp drow to the floor, resting the tangled and matted hair on his thigh. The elf was lighter than he ever would have expected, fragile... He cut off that line of thought too.
A quick glance at the door showed him Catti-bree, still standing and staring, her blue eyes too wide, too bright. He felt a snarl pulling at his lip for her weakness. She should have caught her friend, she should be cradling Drizzt's head in her lap, and not him. He glanced around the room again and spotted the tray of potions on the table.
"You!" he snapped at Catti-bree, and she jumped. "Get me that tray, look for his gear, and keep an eye on the damn door." Trusting that his command would be obeyed, he looked back down at Drizzt. The objective, he reminded himself, as he began to inventory the dark elf's hurts.
"Why?" For a moment he couldn't even register that Drizzt had attempted to make a word, then the noise was repeated and he read the dark lips.
"Why what?" he returned, more to keep the drow talking than for any joy he found in the conversation. Drizzt moved his arm in a feeble attempt to pull away, and from the way his hand flopped, Entreri knew the manacles had broken his wrist. "Be still," he ordered, trying to straighten the limb to aid the healing potion that had better be on that tray.
"Why what?" he repeated, trying to keep Drizzt's attention, keep him conscious. Catti-bree brought the tray and he began going through bottles, looking for the symbol for healing that Jarlaxle had taught him.
Drizzt licked his lips, gathering his strength. "Why are you here?"
Entreri looked anywhere but at those lavender eyes. Once was enough, the pain in those eyes... no, once was more than enough. "I want to go back to the surface," his voice was toneless, empty. "You're my guide." The lavender eyes blinked, slow and lazy and barely aware.