Chapter 27: Shear Silk and Other Wares

"You never answered my question."

Drizzt looked over at Violet quizzically, "which question was that?"

She still found herself transfixed by his eyes and struggled not to stare. Drizzt was the only one of the three with her now. Throughout the day, they had been rotating; one of them staying with her while the other two scouted ahead. At times, it felt like they were babysitting her, but she was grateful for the company. Even Tamival.

It was mid-afternoon and they were making good time according to Tamirell despite his brother's snide remarks about her short stature slowing them down. True, she struggled to keep up at times, her strides being half the length of theirs, but she was doing her best. As a result, when they stopped for a cold lunch, she practically collapsed to the ground and didn't move for the few minutes.

"Are you an elf?"

She thought she saw his stride falter slightly, but if it did, he recovered so quickly she may have just imagined it.

"You know nothing about my people?" he asked.

"Tamirell and Tamival didn't tell you that I'm not from Faerun?" she asked, surprised.

"They did, but they did not tell me where you were from."

"Oh." She really didn't want to tell the whole story yet again, so she tried for a much-abridged version. "I'm from a different reality. I'm kind of stuck here for now, so I'm trying to learn as much as I can, but there's an entire world to learn about. That takes time. So, no, I don't know anything about your people."

"And that's why your magic is unpredictable? Not because of the Spellplauge?"

"I've never heard of this Spellplague until yesterday," she shrugged. "But yes and no. My magic is unpredictable because there's a lot more magical energy available here than where I come from. I'm not used to welding this much power. But it's also a different kind of magic than I trained for."

"I see," he mused. "It must be difficult for you."

"Thank you," she smiled at him. "It is. I would almost rather have no magic at all. Almost. But you still haven't answered my question."

"Yes, I'm an elf. A drow elf," he said shortly.

"Sounds like a touchy subject," she said in a neutral tone.

He was quiet for so long; she began to wonder if he was going to ignore her comment. Just as she was about to give up and change the subject, he explained.

"Here in Faerun, my people are reviled and feared. They live deep in the underdark and worship a singularly evil goddess. Everywhere I go, especially when I first came to the surface, I am judged by their reputation and treated accordingly."

"That's awful," she exclaimed. "Do they all look like you?"

He nodded, "except for my eyes. They are unusual, even for the drow."

"I think they're beautiful," she blurted, blushed furiously, then continued. "In fact, everything about you is stunning. Where I'm from you would probably be swarmed by admirers."

He stopped dead in his tracks and stared down at her with those disconcerting eyes.

"Are you picking a fight with Drizzt?" Tamival said from behind her, making her jump. "I'd warn you that's a very bad idea. He's one of the best swordsmen on the continent. And if he doesn't slice you to ribbons with his blades, he could still have Guenhwyvar maul you to death."

"I am not picking a fight," she answered scornfully. "Unlike you, he's excellent company. But," she paused, "who's Guenhwyar?"

Drizzt laughed, the first time she had heard him do so. "I'll let Tamival explain. Have fun."

After the drow disappeared into the shadows of the forest that was growing denser as they traveled, Tamival turned to her, "come on. You're so far behind we'll won't make it to camp until midnight."

Without waiting on her reply, he spun on his heel and strode away, forcing her to hurry after him.

While he had exaggerated, it was late afternoon when they caught up with the other two. Tamirell already had a fire going and was roasting some kind of fowl over it.

"There you two are," he grinned as they walked up. "I was afraid Violet had turned you into goo and left you to rot in the forest."

"It would have served him right," she muttered, which made Tamirell grin even more.

"You two fight like an old married couple," he told them. To Violet he said, "there's a small stream just beyond those trees if you want to go rinse off. We've scouted this area thoroughly and it's safe."

Looking down at her tattered, dirty clothes and her dirt-smudged arms, Violet could only imagine what she must look like to the three of them.

"How do you guys manage to look so perfect all the time?" she asked.

Tamirell grinned again, "it's an elf thing."

Drizzt chuckled from where he sat sharpening his sword.

She rolled her eyes and walked off in the direction he had pointed. Just beyond the camp, she heard the babbling water and followed the sound until she found the stream. Barely a meter wide and only a few centimeters width deep, it was clear and cool. Taking off her battered boots, she stepped out into the middle of it and just sat down in the water. Not willing to strip in the middle of a forest, she settled for splashing water on her clothes and scrubbing at the worst of the dirt with her hands. Leaning back until she lay stretched out in it, she let the cool stream sooth her itchy skin as it drenched her clothes, staring up at the first stars that were just starting to appear as the sun sank. She was soaked through to her skin, but the night was warm, so she wasn't chilled.

A chittering noise close by caught her attention and she sat up to search for what was making it. Just a meter away, a pink fae perched on a river rock chittering angrily at another that had apparently trespassed on its territory. The angry fae looked like a mouse with wispy, pink fur, a flat face, large green eyes, and a long, furry tail. The trespassing fae looked like a small turtle, no bigger than the palm of her hand, but its stubby legs ended in little cloven hooves and a plant grew atop its marbled gray shell. As the smaller fae hopped around it, fussing non-stop, the turtle-fae slowly traversed the rock, ignoring it.

Violet watched them, smiling at their antics until they abruptly vanished, and another noise made her look around.

Tamival stood nearby with a stricken look on his face.

"What?" she demanded. "Do you have to bother me even when I'm bathing?"

He swallowed before he answered, looking away from her, "if you want to keep walking around in rags, I don't care." He tossed a bundle close to her on the bank. "Wear these if you want."

Once he was gone, she stood and picked up the bundle. It was a pair of pants and a tunic, both made from leather so soft and supple, she couldn't quit stroking it with her fingertips. A leather thong to tie her hair up was included in the bundle. Putting the clothes on a rock to keep them off the ground, she quickly stripped and waded back into the stream where she washed more thoroughly. Pulling the leather clothes on over wet skin proved to be harder than expected, but soon she was clad in clothes that didn't have gaping holes or grime permanently embedded in the fabric. She had to roll the legs of the pants and arms of the tunic up several times, the belt that Tamival had included wrapped around her waist twice, and the tunic hung to her knees, but she was still happy.

Picking up her cast-off clothes, she wrung them and shook them out. Stopping as she held them up, she felt faint.

Wet from the stream, they were shear.

"Oh, my."

Back at the camp, Tamival was unusually quiet, not taking any opportunities to make any snide comments or pick on her. In fact, he studiously avoided looking at her at all. For some reason, that irked Violet. After a dinner of cold Venison from the previous night, she plopped down next to him.

"Thank you for the clothes," she told him.

He merely grunted in response.

"Those other clothes were close to falling right off my body, so it feels wonderful to be fully clothed and not completely exposed," she stressed the last two words.

"At least you're not running around looking like a cheap whore anymore," he muttered.

From across the fire, Drizzt looked up from his sword, his eyes reflecting the flames.

"Huh, seen a lot of them, have you?" she asked mildly.

"Hard not to when they practically fling their…," he paused, searching for the right word, "…attributes at a person."

Tamirell froze in mid-motion as he sorted through his pack. He shot Violet a look that she ignored.

"You wouldn't have to worry about being offended by their attributes if you didn't go lurking about where you have no business being."

"They shouldn't be displaying them in the open," he said heatedly.

By this time, Violet was regretting whatever had prompted her to start the conversation.

"Maybe," she said tartly, "they didn't know they were on display!"

"How could they not? Hell, a blind man could have seen…," he tapered off. Pushing himself to his feet, he stepped away from the fire. "I'm going to scout the area."

Tamirell smirked as his brother stalked past.

"Shut up," Tamival snarled.

Across the fire, Drizzt snorted and shook his head.

Violet frowned at him, "what?"

"Nothing," the dark elf replied mildly returning his attention to his sword.

She turned her frown on Tamirell, "do you have something to say?"

"No," he shook his head, "not a thing."

Ignoring the two, she found a place to lay down and turned her back to them. Despite being tired, it took her a long time to go to sleep.

Tamival was not at the camp when Violet woke the next morning, nor did he return before they departed. During their trek through the forest, Tamirell stayed with her while his brother and Drizzt roamed ahead. They would be at Shadowdale before dark and she was looking forward to a bath and a real bed. She intended to sleep for at least a week.

"Care to tell me what last night was about?" Tamirell asked.

Violet had been expecting and dreading this question all morning. She had concocted at least a dozen different answers in her head, yet now that it hung between her and her friend, she realized the only answer she could give him was the truth. Blushing, she told him what happened as simply as possible. When she finished, Tamirell laughed.

"Is that all?" he guffawed. "From the way he acted, I thought you had molested him!"

"You did not!"

"Well, no," he admitted, still chuckling. "But I thought something had happened between the two of you and not just a little peek at your attributes." At his joke, he nearly bent over laughing.

"This is not funny," she hissed.

"Oh, yes, it is," he insisted, wheezing, and whipping moisture from his eyes.

"I was wrong," Violet huffed.

"How so?"

"I always thought Tamival was the jerk. Turns out, it's you, not him," she said primly and walked away.

After a few meters, she realized he wasn't following her. Turning, she saw that he was standing where she left him with a smirk on his face.

"Are you coming?" she asked.

"You're going the wrong way," he said, trying, but failing, not to smile.

Rolling her eyes, she stomped back to him, "I'm starting not to like you."

A grin split his face, "liar. Come on, it's this way."

They walked for a few minutes in silence.

"You know, he cares about you," Tamirell said unexpectedly.

She stopped in her tracks. "Don't lie to me. I know he only tolerates me because of you."

He shook his head, "you don't know him like I do. After we left you in Highmoon, he fretted for days about your safety. It was most annoying."

She snorted, "well, if he does, he has a funny way of showing it."

"You did goad him last night, you know."

"I know. But he was acting like I somehow did something wrong and it irritated me."

"Obviously." He looked down at her and grinned, "maybe next time you guys should just throw rocks at each other?"

"It was pretty childish, wasn't it?"

"At least it was entertaining. I've never seen Tamival in such a state over a female and, believe me, he's had plenty…," he looked down, met her gaze, and stumbled over his next words, "th-throw themselves at him."

"I'll bet," she responded, dryly.

Tamirell looked like he was about to add something else, then nodded instead, "come on, we better get moving or we'll never make Shadowdale before dark."

The forest abruptly ended at the edge of the dale. Spread out in the rolling hills at the base of the mountains was a patchwork of cultivated fields, pastures for livestock, and isolated clusters of trees. Through the center wound the stream Violet had followed out of the heart of the mountains, now a lazy, rambling river. In the distance, she could see the river flow past a bare dome of rock thrust up out of the ground like the top of a bald head. On the other side of the dome were a dozen or so businesses and homes that made up the hamlet of Shadowdale.

"It looks so peaceful," Violet told Drizzt, her companion of the moment.

"It can be," he answered. "But don't let looks deceive you. Shadowdale lies uncomfortably close to Myth Drannor. It has seen more than its share of trouble. The Harpers keep an outpost here, just east of the town."

"If it's so dangerous, why settle so close?"

"It didn't start out that way. Many centuries ago, Myth Drannor was the pinnacle of Elven, human, and Dwarven culture."

"What happened?" Violet asked.

Drizzt shrugged, "the same thing that happens to all great civilizations. Corruption from the inside, attack from the outside."

"Oh." She thought about what he said. "But what makes it so dangerous?"

"An unfortunate convergence circumstances. First, the magic the elves used to make the city safe and keep it flourishing, called mythal, began to fail, then twisted and warped. As it spread out from the city, it warped the land and everything it touched. The taint draws the foul and wretched to the ruins."

"Second, the tunnels of the dwarves under the city connected to the underdark, giving access to its denizens. You know first-hand how charming those can be," he smiled down at her briefly. "As if an entrance to the underdark wasn't bad enough, a portal to one of the plains of hell was opened within the ruins for a while."

"Wow," she breathed. It sounded worse than dangerous.

"Finally, there are rumors of treasure and magic artifacts left behind by the elves that draw every ilk from the far corners of Faerun and beyond. In fact, much of the Harpers' time is spent keeping idiots out instead of keeping the evil contained."

"Sounds exhausting."

"Indeed," he agreed. "Now do you understand why the Nightwinds want you to stay clear? Your magic is already unpredictable enough without adding the influence of the twisted mythal to the mix."

"I guess."

For a few minutes they focused on walking through the wild, grassy field they were crossing. Around them, flitting through the tops of the stalks, were dozens of fae creatures no bigger than grasshoppers. At first, she had thought that was what they were, until one landed on her arm for a brief moment before it flew away. The same color as the grass they flew through, they looked like tiny lizards with wings that resembled leaves. Drizzt didn't pay and mind to them, making her wonder if he saw them and just thought they were grasshoppers or if he was ignoring them.

"Ah, here we are," he announced.

Abruptly, the pair stepped out of the wild grass they had been trudging through and onto a hard-packed dirt road. A familiar figure strode towards them.

"Took you long enough," Tamirell greeted them.

"We were talking," Violet told him defensively.

"I wouldn't doubt it," he replied.

They traveled down the road until the town came into view.

"Your companions should be back by now," he said to Drizzt.

"Yes, and though the fight is still going at Myth Drannor, we must be on our way. We've stayed too long as it is."

"I thought as much," Tamirell nodded. "Your blades will be missed, and those of Entreri. Together, the two of you are a formidable combination."

"Unfortunately, blades cannot triumph over every foe," Drizzt said grimly. "That's why we have to return to Icewind Dale. What we may face there will require every bit of our cunning and wit."

"Are you leaving immediately?" Violet asked.

"That depends on the others. Dahlia sets her own schedule," he said with a slight frown.

"Don't leave without saying goodbye," she urged. "I've enjoyed your company the last two days."

"If I'm able," was the best he could offer.

In front of the inn, Drizzt continued down the road towards the Harpers' Hall, leaving Tamirell and Violet.

"He seems sad," Violet said after he departed.

"You would be too, if you were the only one of your kind around. It doesn't help that all his closest friends have died."

"Oh," she clapped her hand over her mouth, "that's terrible!"

"It's the price an elf pays for befriending humans and dwarves."

She shot him a sidelong glance through her eyelashes, "you never told me how old you were."

He smiled as he held the door of the inn open for her, "old enough to be your great-grandfather, even at your unusually advanced age."

"You look good for a tottering old dolt," she said over her shoulder as she entered.

"Maybe you could give me a sponge bath later? Rub my old joints for me?" he leered suggestively.

She giggled and turned to survey the interior of the inn. A large rectangular room with a high ceiling, it was crowded with roughly finished round-topped tables surrounded by simple three-legged stools. Spaced just far enough apart to allow people to pass between them, they created a maze between the front door and the bar that stretched along the back wall. About a third of the tables were occupied with patrons, and three men leaned against the bar deep in conversation.

"There's Tamival," his brother said from behind her.

Violet looked where he pointed and, sure enough, there was the dour elf, scowling at them. Or maybe just her.

"Do we have to go over there?" she asked.

"I did tell him to get our rooms for us," Tamirell said, giving her a nudge in that direction, "so, yes."

"Can I turn him into a toad if he starts being a jerk?"

"Can you?" he chuckled.

"I don't know, but I'd like to try."

"Be nice," he admonished as they got within earshot.

"I didn't do anything," Tamival protested, overhearing.

"Not you," he told his brother.

Sighing loudly, Violet sat on the stool across the table from Tamival, glowering back at him. Sitting between them, Tamirell raised his hand and beckoned the serving girl over.

"Cinnamon Stout and a shot of your pear brandy," he told the perky blond that answered.

"Same for me," Tamival said, handing her his empty tankard.

Turning to Violet, the girl asked, "what'll you have?"

"Oh, I would love some tea," she said before she could stop herself.

The girl giggled, "ain't got no tea, miss."

"Do you still have that apple wine?" Tamirell asked the girl.

"We do."

"She'll have that."

"Anything to eat? We have grilled boar with honeyed carrots or apple and lamb stew."

"Boar," Tamival grunted.

"Same here," Tamirell nodded.

"I'll have the stew," Violet added.

"And bring some bread and cheese out, please," Tamirell added before the girl left. "It's simple fare, but good," he told Violet.

"At this point, if it isn't venison, I'll eat it," she admitted.

Throughout the meal, Tamival remained sullen and refused to be drawn into the conversation, answering only in monosyllables when he did answer a direct question. Twice he called for more to drink. By the time their meal arrived, Violet was more than a little aggravated by his behavior.

Tamirell was right; the food was excellent. Violet ate until she was stuffed and had three glasses of the flavorful wine. Truth be told, she was quite tipsy by the time they went upstairs to their rooms. Their rooms on the third floor were in a row. Without saying goodnight, Tamival went into his room and shut the door. Violet and Tamirell exchanged looks and he shook his head and sighed.

"See you in the morning," he bid as she stepped into her room. "Sleep well."

"You too," she answered and shut the door.

The room was small, but clean. The wooden walls had been whitewashed to lighten the feel and peach-colored curtains framed the small window with a blue vase holding a handful of wildflowers on the window seal. A double bed was pushed against the right wall, its headboard carved with flowers and vines and a hand-sewn quilt covered the mattress. A small vanity took up the other corner on the outer wall, a pitcher and basin atop it. At the foot of the bed was a chest for her belongings and a rocking chair with a small table finished the furnishings.

Violet splashed some of the water from the pitcher into the basin and washed her face and hands. She thought about seeking out one of the servers and ask about a bath, but she was too tired from the combination of a long day, hardy meal, wine. Collapsing on the bed, she expected to fall asleep immediately and was surprised when she didn't.

Instead, she kept replaying the scene with Tamival by the stream and their bickering following the incident. His brother had insisted that he cared about her, but if he did, he did a great job of hiding it. Or did he? He did give her his bed roll every night on their way to the town, and he gave her a set of his clothes to wear.

She huffed in frustration before wrapping herself in the quilt and rolling on her side to face the wall. Still, sleep would not come. The room darkened around her as the sun set, but she stared unseeing at the wall. She turned to her other side, then her back. The slight buzz from the wine faded and threatened to turn into a headache.

Flinging the quilt off, she stood. The only way she was going to get some sleep was to get some answers from Tamival.

Slipping out of her room, she went to his door and knocked lightly.

"Come," came his muffled response through the door.

Violet opened it and stepped inside.