Midsummer
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of R.A. Salvatore/Wizards of the Coast ©. I don't own them; I'm just examining all their possibilities.
Chapter 4: Rising Silver Rays
The loud hacking of brush was followed by a long stream of harsh grunts that sometimes took the form of barely decipherable curses in what Drizzt interpreted as a mix of dwarven, elven, goblin, and the poorest use of Common he had ever heard in a native speaker. Catti-brie was on a tirade, or a tantrum; the two looked too much the same. Drizzt casually strode through the path trying to quell a growing…rage? No, he had long stopped feeling anything resembling rage at anything that Catti-brie did any more. Annoyance, maybe? This feeling was too strong. He ultimately decided that deep frustration was the best way to describe how he felt at the moment.
Regardless of how he could describe his feelings, he knew he would need to talk to Catti-brie; or at least prevent her from being crushed by a treant for sundering his or her cousin.
At last, Drizzt saw Catti-brie through the trees and saw her hacking at a large tree stump with her longsword; face red as her hair and twisted into an expression of complete murderous rage. He stopped, folded his arms, and took a few deep breaths; allowing himself a chance to calm down before continuing.
Is she had been in this state just a year ago, he thought, I would have been a little more disturbed.
Drizzt gave a sad smirk before sighing and walking forward, bracing himself for the hurricane he had just sprinted into.
"I am glad to see you are saving your temper tantrum for dead trees and not live ones," Drizzt said, coming right in front of her.
His sudden appearance was greeted by edge of a sword held at his neck as its wielder glared at him, face locked in a scowl and blue eyes practically shooting venom. It was a look to which he had become accustomed, though the sword was an added touch. He knew she wouldn't kill him (at least he hoped). Even if she moved the sword any further, it would be swatted away by a scimitar in the blink of an eye (he assumed).
"Catti-brie," Drizzt said calmly, "I spoke out of turn back there. I am very sorry I called you what I did."
The two locked stares for a second, before Catti-brie's eyes softened.
"You don't need to apologize, Drizzt," she sighed.
Catti-brie's gait relaxed and she slowly lowered the sword…only to raise it again and hold it between his right leg and the fleshy bulge in his trousers. A chill went down Drizzt's spine as sweat beaded on his forehead.
"Because I am a bitch," she hissed, her eyes shooting daggers.
Drizzt winced slightly, staying completely still and eyeing the sword, whose blade was angled upwards to a part of his body he did not realize he was so protective of until now. With a deep breath, he fixed his gaze back on Catti-brie with raised eyebrows of anticipation and annoyance.
Maybe she will see her taunts are having little effect and lower the damn sword, he thought.
She raised her nose in the air and sniffed, lowering the sword slowly and gradually drawing it away. Drizzt relaxed slightly but did not even breathe until she shoved the blade back in its scabbard with a scream of metal.
"Besides you've barely learned to use that weapon yet," she sneered. "It wouldn't be very fair of me to just disarm you in that case, now would it?"
Drizzt rolled his eyes and shifted his position with a relieved sigh.
"So why's that bastard here?" Catti-brie continued.
"I am still not sure," Drizzt replied, trying to sound casual despite the fact this latest episode went a little too far. "Nialian arrived and sent me out before restoring his memory. He said he wanted to talk to Jarlaxle alone and I respected that request."
"Nialian's a good man," she replied, crossing her arms and staring off into the woods. "I'm sure he'll put that fool in his place."
"Catti-brie," Drizzt said tentatively, debating whether or not any further words would have him facing a drawn sword again, "Jarlaxle has saved both our lives on many occasions where our death or capture would have furthered his goals, and you know that. If he did anything to you in Menzoberranzan other than what you have told me, I need to know and I promise he will be dealt with harshly."
Catti-brie threw her hands up and sighed hard.
"No, he didn't," she said, her tone raised. "Doesn't mean I like him any more. I can't believe after what he put you through the last time you met that do didn't want to run him through. He damn near got you killed, Drizzt."
"And he had me healed, remember?" Drizzt said firmly. "He could have left me bleeding to death on the floor of that damn tower and savored his cursed partner's little victory. He could have crushed all of you before you left and been none the better for it. Instead he had his cleric, a cleric of Lolth no less, take me from the brink and get us all out of there safely, as he swore to me. He's an honorable man, Catti-brie. I have come to that conclusion after our last encounter. I have no idea why he is here or what he intends to accomplish, but I am at least willing to listen to him with clear judgment and an open mind before making my own conclusions. Would it be too hard to ask you to do the same?"
Catti-brie paused for a second as a look of defeat mixed with burning rage formed on her face. Drizzt tried to hide his smile, but not well enough before Catti-brie looked at him again; the fires reigniting.
"What d'you think you'll get if ye keep raising that fine, elven arse of yours', Drizzt Do'Urden," she said evenly, a scowl firmly planted on her face. "Enough people t'kiss it?"
Drizzt groaned and rolled his eyes again.
"Gods, you're worse than a dwarf," he replied. "No, you're just being a child now."
"To the Hells with you!" she spat, coming up to him and sticking a finger in his face. "I just faced down someone who held me captive once. No, he didn't do anything to me, but I can't say I'm thrilled to see him here. Just have a little understanding…"
"For what, Catti-brie?" Drizzt snapped, his voice taking a louder tone than he had intended. "As far as I recall, you have done nothing but break my stones about every little thing for the past year. What in the Nine Hells makes you think I should cut you any slack at all?"
"Will this is the first gods damned time you've ever actually opened you're mouth and said anything," she shouted. "I've gotten so used to you just leaning in your corner and giving me those patient glares of yours. Are you trying to tell me you are actually capable of communicating? This is going to take a lot to get used to since you're always waiting 'til you've got you're sword in your hand or a hand down your pants before getting anything out!"
His gait was calm, but the look in his eyes unnerved her, a glare she had seen in combat many times; that burning shade of lavender his irises would take when he was truly enraged. Catti-brie immediately backed away, though not before coming downwind of his steady, yet forced breath which bore the slight odor of sweet elven wine.
"My, this evening's coming to a great start," she said with a nervous chuckle.
Drizzt kept his arms at his side, his glare still boring into Catti-brie for another silent moment.
"You know, you never answered my question," he said in an eerie calm, "Why exactly did we come here tonight? And I will accept no pithy, meaningless excuses this time."
Catti-brie returned the silent glare, before letting her gaze return to the woods as her hands trembled.
"I am not going to be naïve enough to assume you just wanted to 'rekindle a dying flame' as it were," he said, his voice slightly louder. "Did you want to test my fidelity, see if I will give in to temptation again? Given your demeanor towards me this past year, I doubt that's the case. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if I you saw me lay half the ladies, half the lords, and get my entrails ripped out and even care less."
Catti-brie winced at this description, yet she said nothing.
"Maybe you wanted to give us one last hurrah before you finally leave," he continued.
Catti-brie's eyes closed tightly.
"I believe I have struck gold," he said in a biting tone. "So where are you running, Catti-brie? Is it another man; Wulfgar perhaps? Either way, I myself am beyond the point of caring."
Catti-brie gave a frustrated sigh that resembled a sob. She knew she should have thrown the question in his face, or just kept her mouth shut, but matters had gone too far already.
"It's not Wulfgar," she said softly, her voice threatening to crack.
Drizzt sniffed hard and looked to the woods. Catti-brie ran a hand through her thick, auburn hair.
"I don't want his name," Drizzt said evenly.
"Deudermont," Catti-brie said softly.
"I beg your pardon?" Drizzt asked, his tone significantly louder as he turned his head back towards Catti-brie.
Catti-brie hastily reached into her belt and snatched out a crumpled white scroll, throwing it at Drizzt, who easily caught it though his burning eyes never left her. After taking a second to calm himself, he looked down, gently unfurled the scroll, and immediately recognized Captain Deudermont's flowing handwriting.
"Dear Catti-brie," he read out loud. "I cannot say how happy I was to receive your letter. I am very glad to hear you and Wulfgar were able to find his daughter safe. We were praying for Colson's safe return. Please extend my heartfelt condolences to Wulfgar on behalf of myself and my wife for the tragic death of Delly. She was a fine woman and she is missed greatly. To answer your question, the hunting has been very good. Like the stinkweeds in my garden, the pirates seem to pop up in just as many numbers this time of year. The Sea Sprite has a full crew, but you and your bow are more than welcome aboard."
Drizzt paused and lowered the scroll, allowing himself to clear the thick heaviness in the back of his throat that blocked his voice before raising the scroll and continuing.
"We sail from Waterdeep two tendays from Midsummer, but come as early as you can. I want you to get better acquainted with the new crew before we ship out. Robillard has been working on a new arrow that he swears would be perfect for your bow, so you might want to test that out and give the stubborn old fool the benefit of the doubt. It's a shame to hear Master Drizzt can't join you…" Drizzt paused again as his temples began to throb and the ache in his hip slowly crept back in, "…but if you do manage to pry him away from those orcs, he and Guenwhyvar are more than welcome aboard as well. I eagerly await your arrival, though I can't say the same for the pirates. With best regards, Deudermont."
Drizzt stared at the script for a second. He sighed hard and rolled the scroll, a smile
coming over his face though his muscles trembled.
"You didn't plan to tell me about this," he said with a nervous laugh.
Catti-brie shook her head as a tear came down her cheek.
"I'm seein' ye mad," she said, her dwarven accent returning. "And I don't want to know what that's like when you've been drinkin'. So I'm doin' us both a favor."
"Yes you are," he sneered. "You've finally decided to take the initiative and do something besides glaring and snapping at me. Congratulations, maybe you've grown up after all. So, were you planning on leaving anyway, or was your departure contingent on how tonight went; whatever the outcome?"
Catti-brie stared hard at him and remained silent.
"Maybe a little of both," she said weakly.
"To be perfectly honest," he said, his voice even more strained. "I hoped it was the former, because I think I have been tested enough."
He flung the scroll hard at Catti-brie, clipping her shoulder with a burning sting. She flinched hard and let out a small yelp as the scroll fell to the grass.
"Drizzt, it's not like that," she said desperately, tears welling in her eyes as her hands trembled.
"To the Hells with you, Catti-brie," Drizzt snapped, his voice cracking. "I've had it!"
He turned on his heel and started walking away.
"Drizzt, please," she called.
"Send Deudermont and Robillard my regards," he called back, continuing towards the village and feeling the first burning tears.
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The flood of memories assaulted every part of his being, making his only consciousness the rush of images and sounds from four hundred thirty years of existence: four hundred thirty years of nightmares made real, friends alive and destroyed, moments of torture and ecstasy. The entire span of Jarlaxle's existence seemed to flood his brain like a tidal wave.
Then all was quiet as his vision was now a wave of blackness. Peace came to him at last.
He gave a soft groan as his first conscious sensation was the pounding in his temples as if he had just dived head first into a quarry. With great effort, he opened his bleary eyes and regarded the thin, green rug on which his aching head rested as he realized his body was completely prone on the floor of the cabin he had been brought to earlier. Jarlaxle gave another groan and managed to roll on his back as the pounding in his temples subsided enough so he could use his brain for the first real recollections of the night.
"The pixies," he groaned as so many things started to make sense. "The gods damned pixies."
After taking another second to analyze the thatched ceiling while still regaining his bearings, he conjured enough strength to sit up…in one effort.
"Vith!" Jarlaxle yelped as the wave of blood rushed through his head, dizzying him for one painful second before his head cleared once again.
He buried his bald head in his hands as the rush of blood subsided and then straightened, taking a clearer look at the inside of the cabin and noticing that that he was alone; his hands moving freely and no longer locked in manacles. Neither was he wearing his eye patch, nor any of his many rings and chains, making him feel completely naked: the bad kind of naked.
"Those little elf-faced insects will come to regret this," he said calmly.
Jarlaxle sighed and came to his feet in one motion, yelping as another wave of blood rushed through his head and threatened to topple him again. That memory charm must have been strong.
He took a few deep breathes, relieved that the ache in his head had fully subsided and he was now completely aware of his surroundings; scanning the simply embroidered green tapestries and admiring the craftsmanship in the swords and bows hanging from the walls as a part of him wondered why he was left alone and unguarded in this room full of weapons. It was only then that he felt a tingle down his spine; some type of magic was at work here.
The low, green tapestry on the opposite wall faded to blue and waved as if swept by a small breeze. The fabric ripples then gradually expanded to form a humanoid figure, whose basic physical features became more apparent. Jarlaxle held firm. His first instinct was to reach for one of the swords on the wall, and then be struck down by either the new presence or the wards on the weapons. Instead he remained expressionless as he steeled himself for what might come next.
The figure then fully materialized: the small, frail man whose long, silver hair and piercing, green-gold eyes made Jarlaxle's heart drop. This had to be an illusion, he thought, a vision of memory's past brought on by the breaking of the pixies' charm. He stared at the figure and noticed how his face was now drawn with lines, appropriate for an already elder elf who had aged three hundred fifty years.
This figure was real and now standing in front of him. In an instant, Jarlaxle's mind focused on the surface reconnaissance mission that had gone horribly wrong. The now-distant memory of being a young man, a lowly member of the House Baenre guard, sent with four fellows to find weaknesses in Elven defenses, only to be greeted by a small army of highly trained orcs who easily swept through the small brigade and left all in pieces.
All but him; the lucky little bastard who managed to hide under a fallen tree with merely two broken legs and a gaping hole in his shoulder. Jarlaxle recalled lying prone; feeling his consciousness fade as he mentally rehearsed an appropriately grand greeting to Lady Lolth once he reached the Demonweb Pits. His fast blurring vision then met the bright green-gold eyes that stared at him now as so many memories of this one, soft face flooded his brain again.
"Nialian Springleaf," he said softly, feeling the steady burn in the pit of his stomach.
"Jarlaxle Baenre," Nialian said matter-of-factly, though his frail hands trembled and his voice threatened to fail him.
"It has been a very long time," Jarlaxle said, feeling the rising pressure in his temples as he readied himself for a more formal conversation with his savior, his friend, his…
"Three hundred fifty years" the old priest said. "You are a mature man now; your face is lined and that flowing, white hair has been scraped off, but I never forgot your face."
Jarlaxle's gaze never left those piercing green-gold eyes he had peered into on so many occasions in ancient history.
"I knew you returned to Menzoberranzan," Nialian continued. "I never expected to see you again, Jarlaxle. I thought they would have killed you."
"No, I was the pet of too many to be so easily wasted," Jarlaxle replied with a gentle shake of the head.
"Of course you told your superiors so many different stories about your great deeds in the name of the drow," the priest said, his hands trembling more. "Embellished of course."
"I did what I had to do in order to stay alive," Jarlaxle said tersely. "I hope you understand."
Nialian slowly nodded as a sad smile came on his lined face. Jarlaxle stared at him and felt emotionally exposed; a truly horrifying sensation that he knew was saving his soul.
"I…apologize for running off without a word," Jarlaxle said, suddenly hearing his own voice crack. "You saved my life. Ignored my skin and did all you could to keep me from dying. After all you had done for me; I at least owed you a note."
"You did what you had to do to stay alive," Nialian said softly. "I never expected anything less."
Jarlaxle nodded, fully understanding his meaning.
"So, you are on the surface now?" Nialian asked. "A mercenary."
"It's a fine profession," Jarlaxle said with a small smirk, "It has made my fortune, given me power in all forms. Some say I am Menzoberranzan's true ruler, though I have found the Lands of the Light a bit more hospitable."
Nialian gave a nervous chuckle and Jarlaxle responded with the same, knowing how ridiculous he probably sounded. He saw Nialian trying to stay completely calm, though his limbs were trembling and small tears welled in those beautiful eyes. With a sigh, Jarlaxle raised a hand and gently placed it on Nialian's shoulder.
"Oh, Jarlaxle," Nialian sobbed, grabbing his both his shoulders and pulling him into a tight embrace, his small form trembling as tears streamed down his cheeks.
Jarlaxle completely abandoned his calm façade and returned the embrace, feeling the warm body of his old friend and savoring his mere presence. His form had grown frailer, yet it was still Nialian in every way.
"You're alive," the old priest sobbed. "I thought you were lost."
"I'm here now," Jarlaxle replied, rubbing his cheek against Nialian's; onyx meeting moonstone in the softest touch.
It only felt natural when those soft lips found the corner of his mouth. Jarlaxle turned his head slightly and gradually let his own lips fully wrap around those of his lost friend in a kiss that lacked the passion of their last one, yet showed no less affection to a man who had been everything to him for even a small time many centuries ago.
Nialian's hand gently clasped the back of Jarlaxle's neck as he pulled him in harder, deepening the kiss enough to fully display every ounce of emotion pouring through him at that moment as he savored those soft, black lips that he thought were lost to him forever. Jarlaxle joined in, feeling his own hand come to the back of the moon elf's head as his fingers tangled in that silky silver hair and a small tear came down his own cheek as his lips parted slightly to fully savor the mouth of his old lover.
At last the emotional wave reached its end. Both elves let one, soft kiss linger before their lips parted, their cheeks rubbed against each other, and both chins came to rest on the other's warm shoulder.
"Words cannot express how happy I am to see you once again, Jarlaxle," Nialian whispered, his hand gently caressing Jarlaxle's bald head.
"It has been too long, Nialian," Jarlaxle replied softly, feeling blissfully comfortable in this wonderful moment.
The embrace lingered, and then both gently pulled back.
"There is a kettle and a tin of orange tea around here," Nialian said, his emerald eyes locked in the ruby orbs of his old friend and lover. "I say we put it on and have a nice little chat."
"Absolutely," Jarlaxle said, knowing that his time here hadn't been wasted after all.
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Innovindil immediately recognized the small form perched in the small maple tree down the hill from where she stood. Normally, the brown tunic would have blended her in with the leaves, but that shock of auburn hair gave Catti-brie's presence away. The moon elf stood still as she watched Catti-brie reclining against the trunk, one leg dangling down and swinging like a pendulum as the other was extended onto the long, sturdy branch. Innovindil couldn't see her face, but knew nothing was well with her at all.
Something had happened between Drizzt and Catti-brie. That fact became painfully obvious when Drizzt had returned to the party alone an hour ago, making conversation with various other attendees in a strained tone while his gait was as equally tense. Innovindil still kept her distance, though it pained her. She was still uncomfortable with the idea of lingering around her illicit lover too long, so she slipped away for a few moments to one of her favorite rocky ledges that gave her an excellent view of the valley; including that red-haired figure reclining in the tree.
Innovindil watched Catti-brie, feeling a burning guilt at her silence; a silence she could not allow to continue any longer.
Innovindil gently hopped from her position, finding handholds crags that gently brought her down the shallow slope and back into the forest, he light steps carrying her towards the tree. A few sprints later, she was directly below Catti-brie, who continued gazing at the moon, eyes red and a few lingering tears crawling down her fine cheeks.
Catti-brie's only focus had been the moon and the growing ache in her back and rear from her hard, wooden perch, though she was numb to everything else. The fight with Drizzt echoed through her brain; every harsh word, every curse made her stomach churn.
I should have told him about Deudermont, she thought again, though she still wished he had never mentioned her plans at all.
All she wanted was for a fine Midsummer, at least one final chance to reconnect with Drizzt and find the passion with her lover and best friend that had been so lacking. Now all they had done tonight was argue, even to the point where the words became harsher and the love turning to hatred. Catti-brie knew Drizzt had released her, yet her mind did not allow her to accept it, thoroughly convinced that his words had only been spoken in anger and not reason. Though if this was indeed the end, she was more saddened than heartbroken.
And I thought Jarlaxle was going to be more of a problem, she thought with a smile as tears welled from her eyes.
Her ears briefly registered the swing of branches below her; though she did not care what it was. Then, her side vision caught a blue tunic and a shock of blonde hair in the branch a few inches above hers. She turned her head slowly and was now facing Innovindil, who sat side-saddle on her perch, her golden hair swinging down as her angled face gave a bright smile in greeting. She almost looked like a little girl at play, an image that made Catti-brie's weak smile widen.
"I will only say hello," Innovindil said. "I will not ask how your night has been going."
"Did Drizzt return to the party?" Catti-brie asked, her voice still weak.
Innovindil nodded.
"He is making the poorest attempt at acting social I have ever seen," the moon elf replied.
Catti-brie sighed, though never took her tired gaze from Innovindil.
"We had a little fight," Catti-brie said.
"Oh," Innovindil replied, feeling her stomach burn. "I will leave you to your thoughts."
She was about to hop from her perch onto the lower branch, until a small, yet strong hand clasped her arm.
"Please stay," Catti-brie said.
Innovindil stared into Catti-brie's blue eyes and saw nothing but sadness. She nodded and returned to her original position.
"I am not mad at you, Innovindil," Catti-brie continued. "I never was. Nor am I mad at Drizzt, not anymore at least. What happened last year happened and I don't give a damn about the reasons."
"I am not proud of what happened between Drizzt and me, Catti-brie," Innovindil replied, trying to find strength in her voice. "I never intended to hurt you or to claim Drizzt for myself. To this day I don't know what happened between us."
"You were just caught in the moment," Catti-brie said. "Two elves under the stars on a beautiful Midsummer's Eve; it was only inevitable."
"Passion is a great enigma. We can try to define what we want by our reason, yet our hearts and bodies rule themselves no matter how often we can think otherwise."
Catti-brie paused and gazed back at the moon, allowing Innovindil's words to fully sink in. She leaned her head back and gave a few breathy sobs, feeling her face become hot as tears streamed down.
"Once upon a time, there were ways I was supposed to do things," Catti-brie said, her voice a mass of sobs and her thoughts a mass of tangled emotions. "I was supposed to marry Wulfgar; have a beautiful wedding, a hoard of mighty children, and die in his arms as an old woman. I was never supposed to fall in love with a drow; I was never supposed to be thirty-one-years-old and never married. But it all happened anyway, and it was everything I wanted. But now, nothing makes sense."
"You were supposed to have your happy ending, the way it was meant to be, whether with Wulfgar or Drizzt," Innovindil replied. "But matters of the heart never allow themselves to fit into anyone's plans."
Catti-brie's only response was a small sigh before the tears fell harder. She fully gave into the wave of denied emotion that poured from her, leaning her head back against the trunk in a mass of sobs. Innovindil clasped Catti-brie's arm and gently rubbed it, allowing her the perfect moment to let out all her sadness in the company of a caring soul. Gradually, her sobs subsided and she merely lay back and allowed the last tears to flow.
"Catti-brie, what you are supposed to do is be true to yourself," Innovindil said softly, her melodic voice sounding like beautiful music in Catti-brie's aching soul. "I know you have heard too much about how Drizzt may live for centuries while you may live but a few more decades. However, if I knew I had only another seventy years to live, I would live everyday to the absolute fullest; not caring about what anyone else thought. Your small span of years gives you so much freedom, an excuse to savor your time instead of finding a way to pass it."
"I've lived the life of a princess," Catti-brie said, her voice cracking slightly. "Catered to and protected by my father the king and courted by two handsome princes. Dear gods I've met courtly ladies and vowed I would never live in their cages, but it actually happened; I have lived this way for as long as I can remember. I have had so many adventures, been to so many places and fought so many battles, yet I am still just that dwarf princess who's never really allowed herself to really get out of the castle and live."
A smile came over Innovindil's face, recalling how Drizzt had said practically the same thing in his letter.
"How many men have you had, Catti-brie?" she asked, not even believing the word as they left her mouth.
"What?" Catti-brie asked incredulously.
"How many men have you bedded, slept with, allowed inside you, whatever you want to call it? I already know the answer to that and judging by that look you're giving me, the very subject of physical pleasure still makes you uncomfortable."
"Maybe it does," Catti-brie sighed. "Two only; just Wulfgar and Drizzt."
"You last had Wulfgar before he was taken into the Abyss, right?"
Catti-brie nodded.
"So, you're entire record of intimacies consists of two adolescents with no clue as to who they are let alone with whom they should spend their lives."
"You're right about Wulfgar. He was eighteen, like me and just like a little kid when he dealt with me. Drizzt's an elf, though…"
"Elves reach their full adulthood at the close of their first century. Drizzt is seventy-four-years-old. In the span of natural time, he is an adolescent. If you stay with him long enough, you will hear his voice gradually deepsen and he may grow another inch possibly two in height."
Catti-brie paused at the thought. She had never thought of Drizzt as anything but an adult, or even an ageless being that lacked the natural time processes of humans. The thought of Drizzt going through the same phase of physical and emotional awkwardness put a smile on her face and explained so much about him.
"Catti-brie, if you decide to spend your life with another," Innovindil continued, "make absolutely sure this one will be above all others, not just the one you think you should dedicate yourself too."
"So what do you suggest, lay with a bunch of men?" she replied with a stunned laugh.
"There is nothing shameful about pleasuring your body," Innovindil replied, "as long as you do so with the utmost honor for yourself and your partner."
Innovindil leaned down and placed a hand in Catti-brie's thick hair, running her fine fingers through the beautiful auburn locks. Catti-brie allowed her heavy head to lean in the direction of Innovindil's caress, a smile coming over her face as the gentle fingers massaging her scalp relaxed her completely.
"You are a beautiful woman," the moon elf continued. "There are so many handsome men in this land, human and elven alike, who would like nothing more than to treat you like their queen; cater to your every whim and find ways to make every small muscle in your body tremble with the purest ecstasy. If you decide that you would like to spend the rest of your days with one of these men and no other, than you know you have made the right decision."
Catti-brie pondered these words; all of them sounding so true.
"How do I know you are not just saying this to get me away from Drizzt?" she said, regretting the words the second they came out.
"And what if I am?" Innovindil replied with a small laugh. "Would that make my words any less true?"
Catti-brie's smile widened as she gazed up at the moon, feeling the silvery rays caress her flesh and gradually stretch their fingers into her soul. It was the most wonderful feeling she had in too long.
"Just don't be too long in coming back," Innovindil said, gently leaning Catti-brie's head back, leaning down, and placing a soft kiss on her forehead.
Innovindil untangled her fingers from that beautiful mane of auburn hair and hopped down from her perch; her nimble feet meeting one branch after another until both her feet landed lightly on the ground. She took one last look at Catti-brie, whose eyes were closed as she basked in the moonlight, before flashing one last smile to the moon and skipping back to the party.
Author's Note: I find this chapter actually coincides with the Midsummer holiday, also known as the Summer Solstice, which ironically also occurred during a full moon. I would like to wish all my readers a very happy Midsummer and best wishes for the new season. Merry meet and merry part and merry meet again.