8.

"A what?" Adele isn't sure she heard Nathyrra right. "The Valsharess is getting ready to crush your city, I'm about to embark on yet another mission to reduce the number of her allies, this time against a bunch of unspecified 'undead' your scouts describe so vaguely that even I, a paladin can't figure out what's going on… and I'm supposed to go to a… reception?"

"You're way too serious, has no one told you this before?" Nathyrra smiles, with a slight shrug, and Adele can't help but think, you've no idea. "Having receptions and parties and suchlike while the world burns is a time-honored drow tradition. The Seer deems it fit to celebrate the birth of House Deani's new heir: I hear and obey." She tilts her head to a side. "I suggest you do the same; it would actually help you to learn about the undercurrents of drow politics."

Adele sighs.

"I suppose this is as good time as any," she admits. "Let's see how my informal and often language-challenged conversations in the city manage to hold up in the light of your briefing." She frowns. "As I suppose that's what you are actually doing here and not helping me dress, right?"

"Something like that." Nathyrra is still wearing that amused smile, and Adele tries really hard not to ask her to stop. The drow woman often manages to set her teeth on edge: Adele supposes it's because in her former life she was her polar opposite: elite assassin, one of the dreaded Red Sisters serving The Valsharess. "But just for my own peace of mind: you do know how to wear a dress, I assume?"

"Low blow." Adele manages to look haughty; not an easy feat with her hair all wet from her recent bath. "I am a girl. I do wear dresses, on the rare occasion when I am not crawling in tombs, caverns, ruins, forests or deserts to hunt down evil." She thinks for a second. "Not all that often lately, and definitely this is the first time since I arrived to Waterdeep and then to your charming city, but yes. I even know how to walk in long skirts. Try not to faint."

"I wonder where they teach that in paladin school." Nathyrra's eyes twinkle.

"Well, formalwear should probably fall under armor." Adele mutters. "Some of those corsets that go with Cormyran fashion…not to mention the shoes…" She regards the dress Nathyrra brought in to her room and grimaces. "This one, though…is missing some parts, isn't it?"

"Don't think so." Nathyrra smoothes down a wrinkle on the silver-and- amethyst colored silk. "We drow just…like to put our… assets on display a bit more prominently than humans. Do you find it not to your liking? The Seer ordered this color combination personally for you."

"Oh, no, it's gorgeous." Adele touches the dress gently. "It just…"

"Don't worry; the location of the reception is heated adequately. You will not catch a cold."

"I can't. Paladins don't get sick; one of our perks, you might say." Adele turns to Nathyrra, eyes growing serious. "And now: would you please get to the real purpose of this meeting and tell me what The Seer needs me to do that she can't or shouldn't, given the political instability of the city, the precarious standing of Eilistraee's followers in House Maeviir's stronghold, and the fact that if we count her, there are three Matron Mothers in Lith My'athar now, but only one of them has a House in the classic sense of the word?"

"You've studied us!" Nathyrra claps her hands together in unexpected delight. "By the goddess, you actually studied us."

"If you thought I'd take up the role of this city's defender and just bumble about blithely without bothering to understand what's going on…you really must have had a bad experience with humans… or paladins." Adele's eyes narrow. "So let's do this the right way; I'll play nice and ask the questions. I'm assuming the fact that Mother Briza'fae Deani gave birth to a girl and thus an heir in exile, alters not only her standing, but the plans of House Maeviir as well?"

"And considerably so." Nathyrra sits down on Adele's bed and coils her legs under her gracefully. Adele chooses a chair instead, leaning forward, hands clasped in front of her. "Mother Myrune Maeviir is an extremely vain woman. Lith My'athar was her city entirely, before the Valsharess forced us and the remnants of other Houses into exile. Some of those remnants are still wondering why Mother Myrune extended her welcome to us."

"I'm sure you have an idea," Adele says, and suddenly feels a bit tired. She had a rather vicious crash course into large-scale politics during her time in Neverwinter two years before, and doesn't really relish the idea of getting into it again—even though the Underdark flavor of intrigue is alien enough to be somewhat fascinating on a pure intellectual level. She finds the almost visceral need of the drow to scheme, plot and arrange for others' demise rather repellent, especially coupled with the ever-growing conviction in her that apart from Eilistraee's followers, most of them are barely better than the bullies of any big town's underbelly on the surface. They respect might and strength, think only in terms of dominance and submission, and view everything through the lens of 'what do I get out of it and how does this make me climb higher'.

When she shares these observations with Nathyrra, the drow woman grins mirthlessly.

"As much as it pains me to admit, Adele," she says, hugging her knees to her chest, "you've perceived the core of our society rather well. Before The Seer's coming, I have subscribed to the same school of thought myself, and both Mother Briza'fae and Mother Myrune embody the very essence of what it is being a drow."

"The philosophy of 'might makes right' is hardly restricted to your people." Adele shakes her head. "There are several surface deities whose followers preach the same."

"Sure, but since you're here and not there, we shouldn't be concerned with them." Nathyrra shrugs. "I am here to give you a briefing on what you can expect tonight at the reception, not to discuss intellectual underpinnings of evil religions, however much that might appeal to you."

"Too bad." Adele grins. "I would have enjoyed the mental gymnastics. I didn't have much chance of it since I spent time with Master Drogan." Her voice grows wistful at Nathyrra's questioning eyebrow and she explains. "I was disguised as his pupil during my last assignment while I protected him: we had arguments lasting well into the night and while on occasion I wished to hit him over the head with something blunt, it saved me from going crazy with boredom for quite a while."

"I wouldn't think you are bored here, Adele." Nathyrra opens her eyes wide. "Although if you consider saving us and eliminating The Valsharess's allies not stimulating enough, maybe you should visit the wing of the temple where the males' rooms are?"

"Nathyrra, please." Adele waves a hand wearily. Not this again…. "I thought we've discussed this before. While I certainly appreciate your concern for my…health, I assure you, yet again, that there's no need to worry about me…" she falls silent for a second, searching for the right expression, "… seething unfulfilled in my chambers. I realize that the…mating habits of your people are quite different from mine, but I'd appreciate if you respected my privacy. No need to steer me towards any of those otherwise perfectly healthy young males who no doubt welcome your attentions on a regular basis, no need to send any to wash my back like you've tried last week, no need to offer them drinks in my name like you attempted two weeks ago, and…"

"Fine." Nathyrra pouts. "Be that way." She coils off gracefully from the bed and waves a hand. "Just make sure you show up at the reception at…" she glances out of the window to where the city's time-keeper, the row of stalagmites, magically lit by Lith My'athar's High Wizard stands, "…seven fingers, and try to keep an eye on Mother Myrune."

"Are you expecting her to actually…try anything against Mother Briza'fae or her little girl right there?" Adele asks incredulously.

"You're in a drow city, dear." Nathyrra's eyes are cold. "The Seer has entrusted me with making sure the delicate balance of Lith My'athar will not tip over for any reasons before we can defeat The Valsharess once and for all."

"Oh, I see." Adele nods slowly. "You are her Aarin Gend."

Nathyrra lifts a delicate pale eyebrow.

"Pardon?"

"Someone from my past." Adele shakes her head, turns away and picks up the dress. "Don't worry. I'll make sure no one dies tonight." Her mouth feels bitter. "I'm very good at following orders, after all."

"Excellent." Nathyrra's voice is deceptively light as she opens the door. "I'll send someone to escort you. This is to be done properly."

"Good." Adele nods as the door closes with a click, and throws two hands in the air. "And I've just started to think everything was going so well, Lord." Her movements are quick, efficient and just a bit angry as she changes her clothes and continues her one-sided conversation with her god, like so often before. "Nothing difficult for tonight, Adele; just be a good paladin and act like you don't know that you are protecting one monster from another, right?" She yanks on the skirt of the dress as she continues to mutter to herself. "But let's just review it again. Fact One: Mother Briza'fae hates The Seer with a passion and would strangle her in a spoonful of water… but she needs her to rebuild her house. Fact Two: Mother Myrune tried to murder her own daughter already so she doesn't even live in their compound any more—but The Seer needs House Maeviir since Lith My'athar is their stronghold." She frowns at her mirror as she drags a comb through her hair. "Fact Three, just to state the obvious: I'm a surfacer whom she saw in her dreams as someone who can save them, obviously I'm supposed to keep the balance up. Somehow." She glances upwards. "I sure hope with Your help, Lord. Otherwise I am in deep you-know-what yet again and you do know about how you-know-what left underground long enough stinks."

When finally there's a knock on her door, the seventh stalagmite is almost halfway lit.

"Well, that was cutting it tight." Adele mutters, grabbing her cloak. "Come in," she says, still turned away from the door, busy with the clasp, and sounding very brisk and official. "I'm assuming Nathyrra sent you to be my escort for tonight. Now I have one rule, and one only for this, and…" Her voice falters as she turns and for a split second she feels a rather stupid grin coming on.

Thank you, Lord.

"I should certainly hope so." Valen nods, leaning against the doorframe. "I am not much for escort duty normally, but since this is going to be one of those events, I figured the two of us might as well stick together."

"Best thing about the whole night, if you don't mind me saying so, sir." Adele says and holds her arms away from her side. "Sorry about the outfit, though. I did tell Nathyrra that there were obviously parts missing, but…" She shrugs and then immediately grabs the dress' shoulder and yanks on it. "I trust you'll tell me if anything, um, falls out?"

She honestly doesn't mean to sound like that: she, in fact, decided that the best way to deal with this… this whole thing is to really treat Valen with the kind of relaxed respect she hasn't employed with anyone since her days back in Tantras' Temple.

Let's just go back to 'sir' and everything falls into place.

But the way he clears his throat and cast his eyes down to flick some unseen dust off his cuffs yet again make her stomach flutter in a way that is once familiar and terrifyingly new.

"I have your back, my lady. As always," Valen finally says with a small smile that for some reason looks sad, and before Adele could say anything to that, he lifts a hand. "Before we go, though…did, ah, Nathyrra explain about the…more subtle ways of drow society and customs on occasions like this?"

"She had implied that this was to be done properly." Adele's mind is racing. "Just so that I'm clear: as I'm a female and independent of any of the Houses, do I need to display some kind of…dominant behavior, or do I get a pass because not only I'm a surfacer, but a human?" She makes a face. "Her efforts to try and set me up with a suitable male in the past weeks intensified significantly, so…" She raises an eyebrow. "Have you encountered the same when you were new here, or did you get a pass on account of…?" She flutters her hands around her head.

"On account of horns and tail?" Valen laughs, a bit relieved. "Not exactly. It's…complicated."

"We're going to the same place, sir." Adele says, taking his offered arm. "Might as well explain; after all, you have the advantage of being here much longer than I."

"Oh. That." Valen rubs his chin. "True, I suppose: in between the running around killing bad creatures and frantically trying to prepare the city for the inevitable bits the discussion on more…decadent aspects of drow society weren't exactly a priority."

"Exactly." Adele nods as they step out to the corridor. "And Nathyrra isn't quite the helping-chatty girlfriend type." She shrugs. "And I can't just walk up to The Seer and ask her about how to be alpha female with her general either." She grins at the incredulous expression spreading out on Valen's features. "Or should I?"

There's a brief silence, just long enough that Adele realizes just what she implied there, and she bites her lip hard, yet again cursing that temper of hers that is exactly the main reason why she ended up the way she did, after all.

"There's absolutely no way they've put up with you at paladin school, or whatever it is you've studied," Valen finally mutters. "Or is that why they gave you that fancy title and sent you to roam the realms and do good very far, far away?"

"I am not used to someone just seeing through me like that, sir," Adele says quietly and very much ashamed. "I suspect my last remark was highly inappropriate, and I should apologize."

"It indeed skirted that territory, yes." Valen admits, and from his cold and emotionless tone of voice Adele knows right then and there that indeed, she shouldn't even have jested about it; that Valen indeed had every right to be infuriated; and that the fact that he isn't leaving her where she stands would be yet another proof of his absolutely incredible willpower. "I… I was saved by her all the possible ways a man can be saved. I'll never be able to pay it back, even if I die to protect her."

"How…?" Adele swallows: the air is suddenly stifling.

"I was supposed to kill her." Valen's words are sharp. "We were summoned by one of her many enemies. My master was, anyway; his bonded slave company where I was one of the leaders by that time, followed his orders." He shrugs. "I don't suppose you know what it means to be a slave, but I will not insult your intelligence by assuming that you've never met any. I was the quarter-demon slave of a dread balor, fully conditioned to be a battlemaster, without a true will of my own and submerged entirely in my most base instincts…You're a paladin. Surely you've met minions of some evil lord or another you've vanquished such as I was at that time: only a bottomless, black rage to hurt and the mindless, gibbering insanity to taste the pain and suffering of whoever it is against them." His words are flat, falling like so many rocks into a black well of sorrow. "Thus I found myself for the first time in the Underdark, and in The Seer's presence." Adele can feel how tense his arm is under her hand and she unconsciously smoothes her other palm over it as well, as if their doubled warmth could chase away those memories. "I still remember the first thing she said when she looked at me." There's a pause, and as she looks at him sideways, his profile in the scarce light of Lith My'athar's streets is sharp, and unyielding, and utterly alien. "She said…'You are not a monster, dear one.' I was standing there, ready to murder her, and she…" He shakes his head. "I hesitated. I stopped. I ran. We were banished, me and my company-there were obviously some defenses there that were much better than what our summoner, a Lolth-priestess indicated. I…kept seeing her eyes afterwards, for a long time. There was no anger, no fear there: there was only compassion, and understanding and a light such as I've never seen before, or after."

He turns his eyes at Adele then, and his smile is rueful.

"I wish to be a good man, Adele. That's when it started, and it took a very, very long time to finally take the first step on that road. Probably longer than you've been alive. I'm… older than I look and time's different on the Planes," his mouth twitches, "especially when you spend most of the time in mindless blood-rage, or, later, tortured because your consciousness is finally awoken and you question every moment of your existence, unwilling to submit any more. At last, my chance came. I escaped, I found my way here, and I've never left The Seer's side since. She's my savior and my guide and when I die, I hope she'll be there to close my eyes and say a prayer for me."

He stops and turns to Adele.

"Tonight I am escorting you because together you and I can make sure no harm befalls her and her plans that this city will see the light of her goddess remain undisturbed by those who cling to the remnants of their past the way spiders try to suck the last drops of ichor out of a long-dead victim, cocooned beyond recognition."

His sigh is deep and long, as if he's trying to expel something foul from his body. His left hand touches Adele's cheek for a second, and she closes her eyes as one of his fingers feathers across her face, tracing the line of her cheekbone.

"And I wanted to say: I am glad that you're here, my lady."

The streets are quiet, and they are close to the Lith My'athar Public House, where the houseless Deani matron is holding her celebration. Adele's thoughts are slightly jumbled, and she's missing, desperately missing something right now.

There should be moonlight, she thinks suddenly and she almost giggles when she realizes it. There should be full moonlight and some kind of soft music, like in those stupid copper-for two-romances Dorna liked to read in Master Drogan's house.

Because Torm help me, I am lost.