The Past Unfolds: Part 1
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to RA Salvatore and TSR.

Disclaimer: I came to a mental block as to what Jarlaxle would say to Drizzt so I
decided to go back and actually explain what brought about Drizzt's
descent. I would have to write it eventually so the next few chapters will be
various small excerpts from Wulfgar's (2nd) death up to the beginning of the story.
It is posted in parts because if I don't it will never get posted and this story
must move onward!

By the way, there is no song at the beginning of this and I don't think any of the
flashbacks will since they're not the main storyline and I don't need a song to get
my thoughts focused on them (since they have, in a way, already happened). I
have also started experimenting with different styles and I hope the content and
description (if not the length) are better in this chapter.


------------------------------------


Imagine a snowflake. A single snowflake. Meandering its way downwards
from the clouds that hang close enough to kiss the earth. A single snowflake in a
land covered in ice. A cold wind catches it from its downward spiral, sweeping it
through the air miles away from its intended landing place. It flutters, almost
joining its fellows on the ground as it swirls by small mountains and giant hills.
Just as the winds releases it an updraft snatches it away again. Up, up past a
rocky outcrop until it has reached the top of was it called Bruenor's Climb. There
stands a woman, though she looks hardly more then a girl, her hair red enough
to shame the few sunsets that grace this winter realm. She tosses her head
slightly, allowing the icy wind to whisper down the collar of her large fur coat. She
does not shiver, she hardly blinks even as the wind blows with all its might
against her face, drying out her eyes and freezing the tears that straggle down
her face. The snowflake alights on her brow, glimmer like a star on her pale face
before her body heat melts it away. Another tear joins the rest.

This is not the first time she has sought solitude on this freezing hill. Nor
will it be the last. Not while he is here, as a constant reminder of what happened
and what shall never come to pass. She finally rouses herself to wipe a tear from
her face, suddenly aware of the cold. She pulls her coat tighter and hunches to
protect an extra inch of flesh but her feet never budge and she remains staring
into the wind.

Far below her at the bottom of the climb two figures stand staring up at
her. The shorter of the two looked like one of the barbarian snow-gods of old
except where the maroon strands of his hair glare out from underneath their
white blanket. His eyes were misted and he blinks to clear them, turning slightly
to hide their presence from his companion but his eyes never leave the solitary
woman on the hill.

The other seems merely dusted by the heavy snow, a stature carved of
frozen ebony with ice carved down to its back for hair. The only sign of life are
the wisps of steam that issue occasionally from his parted lips. He also stares at
the flame-haired girl, his beloved. But the corner of his eyes are tight with
anguish, not tears, for though he would die rather then hurt her he knows that his
very presence is killing her from the inside out.

The shorter one lowers his gaze, shaking is head gently from side
to side. "She's fadin', Drizzt," Bruenor says, "Or freezin'. Either way she's dyin'
before our eyes and there is nothing we can do," He heaves a great sigh and
moves to wipe away a tear that has not fallen. "Wul…his death hit her
hard, Drizzt, and we were just to blind to see it until now. And it may be too late
for her to heal, not with the reminders everywhere she looks," he pauses as if
what he said was significant and gives Drizzt a knowing look. "I'll be leavin' to
return t' Mithral Hall soon…"

"I will look after her, my friend," Drizzt murmurs almost out of hearing.

"No, Drizzt. Ye won't."

Drizzt suddenly arises from his stupor and gazes in bleary shock at the
dwarf.

"Come with me," Bruenor commands. He gently but firmly clasps Drizzt
wrist, leading him away from Catti-brie. Drizzt turns and throws one last
desperate look over his shoulder at her. How beautiful she is! Carefully he locks
the image in his mind like a precious jewel… it was the last time he would see
her for more then a decade.

Bruenor draws back his attention, "She will be alright," an unspoken 'now'
echoes through the air.

It was but a ten minute walk to the dwarven refuge that Bruenor brought
him to. Along the way they spoke not a word to each other. They might as well
have been alone, for all they heard was the savage roaring of the wind and the
miles upon miles of empty tundra. Alone.

Bruenor moves to light a small fire near the mouth of the cave, still
ignoring Drizzt as if he were alone. The taller elf was crouches in the confined
space. He briskly rubs his hands together to bring back the feeling. Bruenor
crouches to sit across from him, seeming to savor the heat from the fire but his
lips move imperceptibly, as if reviewing a speech in his mind. The silence
stretched endlessly until Drizzt realized he must make the first move.

"Bruenor, there is something I must ask you," the dwarf looked up at him.
"Its about Catti. She's been so quiet lately and… I often wonder if it is because of
what I am doing or not doing," Another pause but a strange (hopeful?) light
dawned in the dwarf king's eyes. Drizzt rearranged himself and knelt as best as
he could in the dwarf-sized cave. "Will…would you look favorably upon…may I
court your daughter as befits her rank and station?" The light in Bruenor's eyes
died. He turned away, eyes downcast, a scowl twisting his features.

"Ye durned elf…always goin' an' making things harder then they have to
be."

"No, Drizzt. I can't let ye marry Catti-brie. I need to talk to ye about her."
Before Drizzt could say anything he held up his hand for silence. "Ye know how
bad…me boy's death hit her and…ye waited too long! She can't move on with
her life because on one hand she doesn't want to betray Wulfgar and on the
other she can't bare the thought of ye leavin'. She's going to die, Drizzt
and ye aren't, not for a long time. And maybe ye can pretend it isn't going to
happen but she can't. Not now, not while the wound is still fresh," Drizzt wanted
to run, to scream to tell him that it wasn't true and that Catti wouldn't die
but all he could do was remain mute. "I think ye should leave, Drizzt."

"No…" was the first sound to come rushing from his lips.

Bruenor leapt to his feet, "Damn ye, drow! She won't get better! Not while
you're here and I won't let ye hurt me girl!" It was like a slap in the face. Burenor
began to pace. "Not forever. Just a few years. Let her come to terms with his
death…let her heal. Then ye can come back," he deflated and his hands began
to shake as if from exhaustion. Silently Drizzt rose to his feet and walked back
into the storm. He didn't so much as look at Bruenor and when the dwarf was
sure he was gone sat back down on the cold, hard stone and wept.

--------------------------------------------
Argh! Drizzt is so out of character! I'm really sorry about that, if you check back I
might revise it but for now….Please, if you want to see Fallen from Grace ever
again: review!