Heart and Sword

Here's the newest piece of Lilithia's story, Heart and Sword. I'll put a short description, it's neccessary because this portion is actually cut into two smaller pieces. I might start adding a little tidbit of Lilithia's own thoughts, in the style of R. A. Salvatore's books, but so far I think just getting these post rounded off evenly and posted is quite enough. (Though don't doubt that I might as well try!)

Short description:

Lilithia is given a test by the elves of Riverdale, unknowing of what is truly underfoot. Solanil has plans to get Lilithia in some deep trouble, perhaps earning an exile from the valley. Malifain woories for her, despite her growing confidence that she can overcome the boundaries of color and intent. But Solanil will not let it go that easily.

In Her Eyes...

Like Entreri and the fights he waged against my father, Solanil shall surely attempt a second run of making my life miserable. Making it so, as he believes, because I have earned it in some way. I am no more a murderer, I have come to see where I stumbled. My father's paths and my own, so very much alike and so very different. Where he was able to escape, I saw myself drawing into that web of lies. I could not help it, I was a high priestess, earning a reputation beyond that of my own mother. A reputation splashed by the blood of a hundred innocents.

My father says that, perhaps, I am like his sister, before she was forced under the water of those lies for too long and her inner innocence was destroyed, was stripped away. Yet Solanil, he condemns me. I am never to be better, never to change. Why can I be charged for the way I was trained, told to act as a child, but when I take things into my own hands and try to correct where I veered off the path... If I had been who I was then I would have just slaughtered him for his closed heart. Blast and let him live in the Nine screaming Hells for all eternity.

But I cannot. This is my second childhood, learning what I should know and forgetting that which I must. Solanil may have tried to kill me but he is not my concern. The elves of Riverdale see what I have become and smile, how rare and lucky I may have been to earn this. But my father forged the path for me long ago, I must walk it in turn and trim the branches that have overgrown.

I must see and hear and think for myself out of the delusions of the wicked Spider Queen, and I must learn to forgive if others cannot. But never forget. Solanil could have learned a lot had he listened to my father as I have. I saw with my own eyes that day that he would never change.

(Picture by Anna Rigby, editing done by me. Lilithia is mine.)

Heart and Sword

Drizzt watched s Malifain paced across the decorative rug in front of the cabin’s door, his arms crossed over his chest and his face a slight bit concerned. The young elf seemed to worry more when Lilithia was absent from his careful watch, but he never voiced that concern to anyone. The door cracked open as a person entered, but it was not Lilithia, as Malifain soon realized. He fell back into his quiet brooding and pacing as Solanil closed the door behind himself.
“She has done well.” Solanil stated, a wry smile brushing over his lips. The half elf man looked to Drizzt, with the same respect he laid upon Malifain, and nodded. “Lilithia may never be innocent in my eyes but in the eyes of Mielikki she is accepted.”
Drizzt nodded and stood, bowing to Solanil. He had taught her himself how to work with animals, and as a test of her patience, they had given her a lively filly to tame and ride today. Drizzt had known that his daughter could tame the horse easily, it was the unknown trial that he knew he could not have prepared her for. Malifain was surprised, but even more shocked that Lilithia hadn’t returned yet. In the previous tendays, he had become close to her, as it was his duty to watch over her and teach her.
“And where is she, Solanil?” He asked, stopping in front of his brother to look him in the eyes. Solanil shook his head and smiled, laying a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder.
“Rest easy, I know you’re fond of the girl, I haven’t given her too much trouble.” Solanil promised, somewhat envious of his younger brother. Malifain was always the ‘younger’ one, but nobody but Solanil and Malifain understood that he was many years older. Solanil had drawn Lilithia aside to explain this, that Malifain was nearly ninety years old. Elves did not age, though, and Solanil was half human. He had lived to be forty, but the age had taken its toll and he looked the proper age. The room was silent for a long while as Malifain and Solanil conversed within their facial expressions, neither truly needing words. Finally, Malifain broke the silence.
“She was injured.” He stated, not pointing out that he believed Solanil responsible in some part for that. Solanil nodded, though he didn’t have to, and Malifain’s powerful scowl put him in his place before he could explain.
“What happened?” Malifain demanded before his brother could make an excuse. Malifain and Solanil got along well, but they were not exactly brothers. Malifain never hated his brother, but he often wondered why, after the wrongful murder of his elvish father, that his mother had taken on a human man as her lover. He expressed that in his venomous glare when Solanil took his time answering.
“One of her spells rebounded off of a mirror and hit her…” He said, seeming not to care. Malifain grew impatient with Solanil’s games.
“Where is she? I want to see her to see how bad it is.” He insisted, turning to the door and opening it. Solanil shook his head, noticing his brother’s odd behavior. It wasn’t like Malifain to take particular interest in only one person, and especially not a girl. And definitely not a drow maiden.
“She refused our help.” He insisted, but Malifain was the door and down the path before even Drizzt could react. Drizzt let Solanil leave of his own accord, listening to the soft mutterings he heard with his eyes half closed.
Malifain found Lilithia is a small meadow, her tunic off as she sat in the shade of an oak, at the edge of a shallow pond. She cringed as she washed at a magical gash in her shoulder, likely from a bolt she herself had created, as Solanil had said. He made a great attempt at being silent, but he realized that his best chance to not surprise her was to be noticed. He could hear her gasp as her finger touched the wound. The rocks under his boots made little sound, just enough to make her turn to him from over her shoulder.
“Malifain, I…” She stammered, but before she could insist he leave he was right beside her, using a clean rag to wipe away the blood trickling down her bare front. They were unaware that they had two people watching them.
“I know. You are hurt, and badly it seems.” He said, his musical voice calming her just enough. She could smell Drizzt nearby, but she thought it only to be the tunic she had borrowed. Little did she know he was behind her in the bush, watching over her as Malifain had lead him to her. He intended to make sure Solanil did not interfere with the two. Solanil did not know about the drow hiding twenty feet to his left in the same trees, each of them fifteen feet from the couple.
Malifain could sense his brother’s magic, but it was weak, as though he was a few miles away. He shrugged off the thought as he looked to Lilithia’s wound with the utmost care. As she winced, a crystal tear streaked down over her cheek. Malifain noticed and stopped, leaning close to her to wipe it away on his thumb.
“I am sorry. Maybe I could find something to dull the pain…” He said, but before he could react, she had leaned forward and collapsed into his arms, sobbing softly.
“It’s not the pain, I failed. After the spell backfired the filly kicked me and bolted. Solanil was very angry.” She said between deep breaths. “I ran away in shame.”
Malifain shook his head, holding her close. Shame? She didn’t realize that the real test had been in just convincing Solanil that she had the knowledge and confidence to try, to go out and get the horse, to ask for the pasture, to walk among the elves as if she were one. He wasn’t smiling though, as he ignored the blood on his shoulder from her wound.
“No, Lilith. That was worthless. The only thing that matter was that you have proved your willingness to be as one of us. And some of your patience with animals.” Malifain said, having to twist his head to the side to speak to her, his breath drifting across her ear. Lilithia turned her head up just then as she was digesting his words, their eyes meeting. Before either could say a word, they closed their mouths, staying silently entwined as the birds in the forest around them continued to twitter and chirp for the next few moments. Drizzt slipped silently away to give them privacy, but Solanil became angry, barely holding back. He watched as Malifain, with Lilithia supported in his lithe arms, leaned further down towards her lavender gaze, his lips pressing to hers in a chaste kiss before pulling back, angry that the wench had been apt at seducing his brother. Lilithia leaned up into the kiss, her lips parting slightly as Malifain moved away.
The moment’s silence was shattered as Solanil stormed out of the trees, his bow knocked once, then again as Lilithia tried to draw her scimitars. The arrows barely nicked Malifain as he tried to protect her by intercepting them, watching in horror as one lodged deep into her belly and the other snagged between her ribs. He looked to Solanil in a shocked rage, as Drizzt, called by the sound of flying arrows, burst out of the trees opposite Solanil. He rushed to Lilithia, sheathing his scimitars and taking her as she fainted. Malifain stood and pulled out his two elvish swords, charging Solanil in an unbridled rage.
“You seek to kill the girl!” He growled, wincing as Solanil used the bow to knock the blades away. Drizzt left the two to their fight as he broke the arrow shafts off and carried Lilithia away, swiftly making his way to the village healer. Only her low groans kept him going, knowing that she would fight for life yet. The arrow in her belly had been in a vital area and Drizzt knew to dally with such a wound would be fatal. Soon, the echoes of metal on metal reached his ears as he arrived at the healer’s cottage.
Solanil’s blades slammed into Malifain’s as he parried, making the elf’s arms tingle. The fight raged, Solanil driven back on his heels by the furious slashes and lunges that Malifain was using, was not as quickly tiring as his brother. Malifain slowed suddenly and Solanil noticed the shock, but not before her felt the searing pain tat could only mean one thing.
Malifain’s blade left a deep gash between Solanil’s ribs, not a fatal wound but something that easily could have killed without proper treatment. Solanil turned, noticing that his forgiving elf brother hadn’t struck to kill, and ran head long into the forest. Malifain turned without even wiping his blade, his face grim as he started off to find where Drizzt Lilithia. He would never forgive his brother if the girl died, and if she had, he would hunt him down to bring justice to him.
His worries were sent away as he found Lilithia in the healer’s bed, sleeping soundly. They had given her a powerful sleep potion, she would be out for a few days they had said. He didn’t care as he sat beside her, her every noise, every sleep movement noted as he waited for her to awaken. He slept on the floor beside her cot that first night, he took his meals in the chair across the room. He rarely left the room except to change his clothing, to bathe, and to clean his bloody sword. He was glad that Celaine, the beautiful healer elf who had visited to care for Lilithia, had changed her out of her gear, the silk gown beautiful on the sleeping drow. The creamy white silk fell over her every curve perfectly, making her look almost angelic, something Malifain noticed was common for Lilithia.
Celaine paused one night as she set Malifain’s meal before him, sitting beside him at the demure wooden table.
“You care for her greatly.” She said, folding her arms on the table. She had fancied Malifain for many years, but always he had been too busy as a ranger to notice her. She was envious that a near-dead girl, and a drow at that! Could have swept him off his feet with such a lasting impact.
“Yes I do,” He said, eating slowly, “She deserves every chance to know forgiveness. And not hatred.” He explained, though he knew it was only partly true. Celaine frowned, her beautiful face turned down as the sharp answer.
“You lo…” She was about to say, but Malifain’s pleading glance silenced her. Celaine never questioned him again after that, for his look was so foul it might curl flowers at twenty yards. Even for an elf, Malifain disliked intrusions on his private thoughts.

Another Update

As promised. I had to search a tiny bit for this one, since it wasn't saved in a different segment like I usually do. If there are typos, try to survive while reading I didn't get as much time to edit as I would have liked.





Ashes on the Water - Part Three

Michelle woke with a jerk, finding Joshua’s arms still wound around her tightly when she shifted. Joshua smiled, the corner of his lip showing a bloody cut that had not been tended to. Michelle kissed his jaw, sitting up and blinking in the warm afternoon heat, her hoodie still soaked and coated on one arm by thick black sludge mud. She looked to his wounded shoulder, noting his stiffness and the cringe as he reached to touch her cheek. One of her nails had been torn off in the scuffle, his forehead at a cut by his hairline.

“We need to see a doctor.” She whispered, her voice soft and dry from sleep. Joshua nodded, standing and pulling her up with him.

“Yeah, I was waitin’ for you to wake up doll.” He whispered, cupping her to his chest with his good arm and reaching to pinch her nose. “Broken?”

“No, I don’t think Raz broke it.” She answered before he could try to convince her to let him fix it. In truth, she knew by the odd angle that it was broken, but not badly. Joshua led her out of the alley, on their way back to where Razuko had been attacked. Joshua saw the cop lights from around the corner and quickly held Michelle back, her concerned look telling him her fears. He peeked around, noting the pool of blood across the cement. Joshua promised himself he wouldn’t tell Michelle what he’d done to Razuko with the four other bullets in that gun.

He turned, passing her and grabbing her elbow, leading her down towards the river and pulling out the gun. No, he reconsidered, this was too close to the murder scene. He continued leading her up the street, ten miles up the river almost. They needed the gun anyways, with one bullet, for they were in the worst part of the city and only on foot. Joshua let Michelle stop to rest, and on the final mile je picked her up, cradling her in his arms. He was a strong man, a whole foot taller than her at six-foot-seven and a pretty scary man when pissed. That’s what she loved about him, that he would often scare her but she found his anger curious and if anything it drew her closer.

He had been careful not to become angry at her, the discipline of a Marine who had been hardened by eight years across seas in a small war in Brazil. Michelle often worried that he wouldn’t come back, but the worry of loosing him wasn’t as great as the loneliness of not having him or the insecurity of being alone in this city. Joshua would face down any threat to her, often with her help. They had met as companions on a deal with Pero long ago. Razuko, Pero’s younger brother, had foiled the deal and tried to kill Pero, but the fight had been arranged by Michelle, knowing they’d needed the time to escape.

A honk brought Michelle and Joshua back to the mangy street corner they stood on, across from the hospital. Someone’s car alarm had been set off and was going haywire. Michelle, exhausted from the walk and feeling it strongly, buried her head into his good shoulder and slept some more as he walked to the canal behind the river. He looked at the gun before throwing it out into the fast moving canal waters, turning and walking into the ER. He walked to one of the nurses and sat Michelle against the counter as he talked to the nurse.

“She’s got a broken nail and a broken nose I think. She’s pregnant too. I’ve got a gunshot in my shoulder, not critical, and a broken finger. A scrape on my forehead and a busted lip too.”

The nurse nodded, her fingers clicking in the information as he told her, before she stood and walked into the small office behind the desk. Two male nurses in blue scrubs walked out, helping to get Michelle strapped onto the gurney they had wheeled out. She stirred as they finished, looking to Joshua before passing out again, her hand curling and uncurling at her side. They took them both to a small room and set Joshua down to begin washing his wounds. He was stoic as they put the alcohol onto his shoulder, looking from the wound to Michelle as they worked with her too. He could see her cry as they fixed her nose, the doctor leaning over her on the opposite side of the gurney whispering to the nurse. She nodded and walked out, as the doctor looked at Michelle’s badly bent arm. Broken, Joshua guessed.

It broke his heart to see his little ‘Kiss’ in pain. He snarled softly as the nurse stuck a swab into his wound, his eyes narrowing. Who knows what that bastard Pero had told her when he was gone? He thought. And what was she dealing with Razuko for? The nurse gave him a quiet apology as the doctor helped wheel Michelle’s gurney out. They were back in an hour, Joshua waiting quietly on the bed in the painfully plain white room, his forehead stitched and bandaged, his lip also stitched, and his entire shoulder in a sling. Michelle’s arm was in a dark blue cast when they returned, her engagement ring having been removed. Kindly the doctor handed Joshua the ring and smiled.

“Baby’s fine and she’ll wake up shortly. We gave her heavy painkillers for us to fix that arm. Joshua smiled appreciatively and hugged the man, speechless for a moment.

“My health care should pay the bills, right doc?” Joshua asked, reaching for his wallet, but the doctor stopped him.

“Look, Josh, I’ll make sure to put as much onto your healthcare as I can, the rest I’ll pay personally. Michelle told us what happened to her, and we know she prefers her business to be left to herself.” He told Josh, giving the younger man’s wrist a gentle squeeze. Josh nodded, clapping the man on the shoulder and passed him to pull up a chair beside Michelle. He lay on the edge of the bed, his jacket and shirt on the chair, his good arm supporting his head as he watched her sleeping peacefully. She looked so beautiful to him that the temptation of having her in that gown was pretty strong, but he would wait until a more appropriate time. He noticed her moving and shifted closer, listening to her whisper in a dry voice. He kissed her and shook his head, standing and walking to the small sink and filling a paper cup with water, returning and holding her head up to dribble it into her lips. She smiled after he set the cup down, turning to him and opening her eyes. Her left eye had a light black spot under it, almost too puffy to be opened Joshua noted.

“Mmm, how long have I been out?” She whispered, wiggling the fingers of her right arm in the cast. He just shrugged, he hadn’t been counting the hours but he knew it to be late.

“Hey, they said the baby’s fine. I’m okay.” He said, clipping off her next question as that troubled look passed her face. He kissed her, pulling a blanket up over her and pulling her close to his warm body. He could feel the normal heat of the wound in his left shoulder, he wasn’t new to being a gun target. He’d survived being shot in the same shoulder six years ago. He looked down on her as she smiled in silence, his hand running from the knee where her gown ended, up to her hip, his thumb rubbing soft circles there. He knew his calloused hand to be rough, but she had thick skin and had even told him that she liked the feeling.

“Josh?” She whispered into his ear as he leaned to kiss her neck, trailing his hand around to her inner thigh and grinning like a wicked dog. Michelle bite her lip, shifting as best she could with her back so achy and stiff. She gave him a concerned look but he shook his head and moved his hand back out. He would wait until later, he had promised. Right now he just wanted to kiss her and bring her some pleasure for all the pain.

Spring Blooms

After this, the new one, Heart and Sword, will be posted. (I mentioned it previously.)




Spring Blooms

Malifain watched Lilithia as she slept soundly in the guest bed of his small cottage. She looked almost angelic, the tresses of her soft white hair tumbling down over her ebon cheeks. He brought his chair closer to her side, reaching out with one cautious hand to touch her long ear and the tiny diamonds that seemed to be embedded along the edge. He knew she had enchanted them, he’d heard of it before. He didn’t notice as she stirred, the gentle brushing of her ear having caused her to shift onto her side. Lilithia carefully opened her eyes to glance at him, slowly smiling as he continued to take in her beauty.

“You seem not to be so afraid of me…” She murmured, yawning and sitting up. Malifain nearly fell off his chair trying to give her room, blushing red at being caught. “That felt rather good Malifain, but I am not going to ask. I am as curious about you as you are of me.” She said, standing up. Not one to be overly modest, she slept nude when given the comfort of a bed. She gathered her clothing up, slipping into breeches and her loose tunic, the black cloth corset fitting on neatly over the ruffled shirt. She slipped her feet into the soft leather boots she had before sitting on the edge of the bed. Malifain was still cherry red, stammering now.

“I know you don’t intend to treat me like your sister.” She stated, her wily smile a fair warning of what she knew. She had some type of clairvoyance, but it was weaker when her amulet was gone. And the trick was that she could only hear the thoughts if the thinker had in some way wanted her to or if they were about her directly. The best way was to touch them to open both sides of their minds, a telepathic conversation.

Malifain’s thoughts were quite explicit at seeing the drow maiden completely nude just for a moment, and Lilithia had seen it all. She just laughed softly, shaking her head.

“Soon enough, you have to wait the time it takes for it to come about.” She said, her eyes seeming to be far away. Malifain understood and nodded, offering his hand to her from where he stood.

“It’s time to introduce you to the family.” He said, smiling and flashing the hint of a charming grin. She knew elves to be quite handsome, but Malifain seemed to be almost godly, his softly bronzed skin and his eyes like pools of fresh spring water.

“They will not be hostile?” She asked, laying her hand in his as she stood and glanced back at the bed. Her weapons were under the bed! Malifain did trust her, quite explicitly she now knew.

“Thanks.” She said, nodding at the returned weapons. She was tempted to call Poison and Paradise to her but she didn’t have the amulet with her, the beacon the weapons would return to.

“My older brother is wise, he is the magistrate of Riverdale. Under our guidance, you will be most welcomed. Your deeds have been forgiven.” Malifain explained with a smile, pressing his lips to the back of her hand. He noticed the light perfume she wore, something that reminded him of Lady Alustriel. Spring blooms, the blue and white flowers of the Riverdale meadows.

“It’s the most I remembered of Riverdale after I left. It was a birthday gift from Lady Alustriel.” She said, wiggling her black fingers. Malifain smiled and breathed the scent deep into his lungs. There was something more to the scent, something of her skin, an earthy scent.

“So the Lady welcomes you. Drizzt is your father, so I would hold no doubt that she treats you well.” Malifain straightened up again to regard her curious expression.

“She and my father tamed me.” She said, shrugging away the rest of the long story. Malifain heard a knock at his door and half turned to go answer it, but then he looked back to Lilithia.

“Stay here.” He instructed as he rushed off to receive the message. His brother would be visiting soon, and he wanted Lilithia to be out in the yard, to ‘study’ her knowledge of drow magic. Malifain dismissed the messenger and returned, sitting next to her on the bed.

“Solanil is coming.” He said, looking to her worried. Lilithia shrugged and reached for her weapons.

“I heard the messenger. I will prepare but… if he demands a battle, I cannot promise to be an easy target.” She firmly reminded Malifain. He knew, he was a ranger and he could tell her senses were honed. He knew she would fight to the death if Solanil challenged her, because she was not the one to initiate a fight. Not for no reason. Malifain shook his head, amazed how this girl could have ever been the ‘Blood Queen’ that had murdered his younger sister Aya for sport.

Lilithia left quickly, walking out the door and into the small grassy yard before the cottage. Malifain joined her, sword scabbards strapped to his hips where she had not seen any. She gave him a curious look as she pulled Poison and Paradise from their scabbards.

“I will not harm you.” She said as he gave her a frightened glance. She tapped the flat of her sword against his scabbard but he didn’t jump, pulling the blade out with a smile. He turned and pulled out a second blade, two fine elven swords. Lilithia could hear the dying screams of Aya somewhere the distance but she pushed the away, determined to overcome her past. She lunged at Malifain, driving him back against the short white fence surrounding the yard. He viciously parried, pushing her back on her heels. Solanil was not very far away, watching the magnificent display from beyond the trees in the village grove. He had heard her thoughts, and knew she’d heard his. She would put an example in to keep him at bay, but he would not cow at this. This wasn’t the Blood Queen, she would have tried to gain the upper hand through trickery.

Solanil watched as she dropped a ball of darkness over Malifain, but she was grinning as she stepped in, the ring of metal on metal coming in cascades of heavy flurries. And neither fighter had broken a sweat. Drizzt stopped aside from Solanil on the pathway, curiously glancing at the globe of darkness then to Solanil.

“Too bad you couldn’t see her. She has been tempered into a better fighter.” He said, listening for the crescendo. But the ring of metal on metal had ceased, and they knew why as Lilithia forced the globe of darkness to fade away and reveal the two locked together, their swords twisted into a steel puzzle that kept their hands locked in by the wrists. Drizzt laughed and shook his head as Lilithia gave him a helpless look, Malifain chuckling as he looked to Solanil.

Drizzt came forward, walking the few yards of distance to help untangle his daughter as he handed her the amulet and the wand. She fastened the amulet over her neck and brushed her hand over Drizzt’s, knowing that her thoughts would convey to him clearly. She put the wand away as she awaited a reply in the form of a hand on her bare elbow, for him to return his own thoughts. She nodded when he did, licking her lips and replying aloud.

“The same things could be learned if I was to sit wit Solanil at a table in good company. Why does he insist on a fight?” She said, looking more to Solanil than to Drizzt. Malifain made to step between the two rivals, with Solanil’s bitter frown at the open insult. Solanil pushed past Malifain and in an uncharacteristic move for a goodly elf, he smacked Lilithia across the face. But before his hand was near her, her blades were up and protectively shielding her face. Solanil looked to his hand, touching a small, paper thin cut across his wrist to heal it.

“How dare you!” He growled, pacing forward. Drizzt stepped out wide, the fight wasn’t his to be in, it was for Lilithia to choose her course. Malifain, understanding as well, stepped out with a cautious look at Lilithia. Lilithia’s face was stoic, no anger portrayed on her fine features, though she felt it inside.

“How dare you, driving me back and trying to create an anger that is nothing but a distraction,” She hissed, her tone venomous like the fangs of a black widow, “To get me removed or yet, killed.” Solanil stopped at that, backing off and reaching for his sword. Before he could pull it from the sheath, she had one scimitar holding the blade’s crosspiece down and the other under his chin, pulling his gaze up.

“Now, Solanil… I will give you a fair warning. If you intend to hunt me for what I have done, I will not let you slay me in the dark of night.” She said, her kind smile belying the way she could have just splattered his blood over the dirt. “You will kill me in front f all your kin. I have never known elves to be so… hateful. Agiven, you are not an elf. You are half.” She said, putting her blades back into their sheathes and crossing her arms over her bust..

Solanil rushed at her, drawing his blade and holding it with both hands as he went to plunge it into her chest. Malifain and Drizzt jumped forward, both drawing their swords and scimitars. Lilithia reached and with the flick of her hand, the front of her tunic fell open and she stood there, her eyes open and staring back into Solanil’s.

The sword fell over her shoulder from his hands as he slammed his hands down onto her shoulders. Lilithia’s knees buckled but she kept her face stoic and her eyes open when Drizzt and Malifain pushed the man away.

“Can’t you see that?! She is… she is under magical influence!” Solanil roared as Malifain turned him away. Drizzt turned to her, and she shook her head, standing and buttoning her tunic again. She could feel the heavy bruises that her shoulders would have, though she did not complain.

“You did well. But why does that one… Solanil,” He corrected, “Hate you so much?”

“I do not know. Malifain has forgiven me for Aya’s death, but it was wrong of me to call Solanil out on his half human heritage.” She said, turning to him as Malifain and Solanil turned around a bend on the path. If one did not know Riverdale to be on this very spot, they might have passed right through, for the avenues and the houses were hidden in the forest itself. Later, when Malifain returned, his expression looked worried. Lilithia stood from the tree she had taken to sitting beneath, walking up behind him as he passed without a word. She touched his ear, the only bare skin on his person. Malifain jumped and spun, though Lilithia was grinning.

“What of Solanil? And his ire?” Her thought impulse whispered, her very voice carried into his thoughts. Lilithia never required a private room for private conversation, she could merely hold the hand of the person she intended to converse with, and wearing the amulet, she could converse in complete silence. Drizzt understood all of this and sat still under the same tree where she had been, closing his eyes in the late morning sunshine.

“He has calmed, though he is intent on having you exiled from the valley completely.” Malifain spoke into her return thoughts as he touched her palm where it was at her side. She held her hand out, palm up under his as she smiled, liking how quickly Malifain caught on.

“My apologies. I never intended to harm him.” She said, her slight frown concerning him.

“Be careful around that one,” Malifain warned, shifting from one foot to the other as he spoke aloud and removed his hand from hers. “He’s not as wise when angered and though he is but half elf he can sometimes be worse than the tempest of the Gods.” Malifain stated gravely. Lilithia nodded and smiled, looking to her dozing father.

“Before he wakes, let’s go out in the woods where we might have the privacy… so that I may show you what I know of the dark magic of Menzoberranzan in peace, and in safety.” She said, her voice barely a whisper against the summer breeze that blew into his face. Again, the scent of spring blooms assaulted his senses, and she noticed the glitter in his twinkling blue orbs.

Meeting In the Meadows

I had the time to edit this the night before, so it's going up, and there's another one on the block already. Since the description's up on the other post, I don't have to explain much.




Meeting In the Meadows

Lilithia turned to the side as she sensed the shadows following them just beyond a copse of thick trees. She knew who it was, likely the elves. Some elves, but not the elves she was looking for. Drizzt noticed her expression and nodded, calling out to the hidden people.

“She’s harmless.” He called out, looking to her. He looked to her weapons belt then nodded as she began to unbuckle it. She hand the belt to him, pulling out her wand and placing it in his hand. She grasped the amulet, hesitant, but his nod of encouragement forced her to give it to him as well. She pulled the knives out of her boots and then she pulled her cloak off and easily removed her armor. She wouldn’t need it in a fight; it would be useless anyways if they were set on killing her.

Lilithia gave Drizzt a worried look as he motioned her forward out into the meadow enclosed by the thicket. She stopped in the center, watching and waiting. As she expected, four elves, one in front, on behind and two at either side, stepped out holding notched long bows pointed at her throat. She gulped and wrung her hands as they approached.

“The Blood Queen.” One said, scowling as the scar on thigh revealed her identity. She looked upon the four of them, their hair shades from blond to brown-black, eyes of blue brown and green all keyed on her and never blinking. The leader, she guess, standing before her, put his bow back and pulled out a wickedly edge scimitar, stepping up to her. She stood almost a full two inches shorter than him. But he knew what her reputation was, almost too well.

“Why are you here, and why is the likes of Drizzt Do’Urden with you, evil queen?” he asked, his musical voiced as cold as the steel of his blade. Lilithia looked back at Drizzt, who was standing with only his own things. A fifth elf had taken charge of her things, and now the two were watching. Lilithia looked back to the elf, the blood draining from her face.

“I’m… he was escorting me. I’m here to talk about Ay-“ She was interrupted, her mouth slipping closed eagerly.

“Aya. My sister. How dare you!” He hissed, pressing the blade to her throat. She’d never seen an elf act so angry, normally the race was quite demure and kind.

“I… I’m changed, I came to offer an apology…” She stammered, her gold flecked lavender eyes starting to sparkle in fearful tears. She had to be strong though, if she would die for her deeds, she would die and there would be no resistance.

“Your eyes…” He asked cautiously, glancing to Drizzt. Drizzt shrugged and shook his head, nodding to Lilithia. “Tie her up. I want her blindfolded and gagged, we cannot have a meeting with… her, so near the village.” He said to the elf standing to her left. He didn’t even have to finish the sentence, the two elves at her sides had already started towards her and were tying her wrists behind her back. When she cringed as the ropes scratched across her tender wrists, the elf standing at her right loosened them a little, the elf on the left tying a blindfold over her eyes and another cloth over her mouth. What good would it do anyways, she thought, I haven’t a wand to cast anything more powerful than a charm. She was jostled along through a rough path, then put on a horse for the remainder of the long trip. She could feel the heat of day waning, the arms closing more securely around her. She felt a chin rest on her shoulder when she sighed, the lips of the speaker almost touching her tall black ear.

“Not long, Lilith.” He whispered, his voice not showing a single tinge of venom. “Now, why exactly have you returned to Riverdale?” He asked, pulling her gag down a bit. She could hear that the others had dropped away now, and as he pulled the blindfold down around her throat with the gag, she looked around. They were on a high mountain meadow, perhaps on the far side of the mountain.

“I came to make amends for my grave deed.” She said, her tone soft and lamenting. He nodded, slipping off the horse then helping her down.

“My name is Malifain. I saw the tears of your eyes in the meadow. You are not laughing at my sister’s death now.” He said, his tone flat and sincere.

Lilithia nodded, rubbing her wrists as they were untied. Malifain glanced at her, one hand ready on the hilt f his scimitar.

“I won’t fight. I have no weapons. Slay me where I stand if it will please you.” She said, pushing her white hair back from her neck. Malifain shook his head and frowned.

“A live given does not replace a life taken.” He said, sighing and shaking his head. “You speak with the naïveté of youth, Lilithia.”

“Then I wish to serve you. To replace Aya. I wish to right all the wrongs I have done, I will raise my weapons only in protection of Riverdale’s populace. Never against them.” She said, looking back into Malifain’s dazzling blue eyes. Indeed, if Aya had been a slightly older girl, with different skin and hair, she might have been this very girl. Malifain couldn’t deny her beauty, even among his own kind. He had never found a maiden to call his own, but how foolish it was t have a hope Lilithia might perhaps be telling the truth. They were the same ages, Malifain just four years older than her. She may prove to be full of surprises, like she was the day he caught her after that slaughter of his young sister. The day he slashed her thigh beyond the repair of magic.

“And if I cannot oblige you?” Malifain asked, knowing that the elves of Riverdale would be hesitant to have a drow among them.

“I shall turn my back and leave to continue on my journey away from Riverdale.” She responded, earning a nod from the elf. Malifain held a hand out to her, smiling as she placed hers in his.

“I will accept it. Twenty years, not a day less?” He said, clearly daring her devotions. Lilithia nodded. Twenty years might prove time for something to grow strong.

“My life, if need be.” She replied, her refreshed smile making his own grow. “I wish only to prove that I am not that … that which I was. That Lilithia has died in the dark of Menzoberranzan.” She said, squeezing his hand. Malifain nodded, reaching a hand to tap his lip.

“What brought about this change? And you know, of all things, that the pain of losing my only sister would never be fully sated.” Once more Lilithia nodded, pulling her hand away from his as he crossed his arms.

“My… father. Drizzt Do’Urden.” She admitted. Why waste time lying to the elves? They would surely find out eventually. Malifain looked at her, not at all surprised. Her striking posture, the lavender eyes. The bloody legend of her blades. It all created a puzzle that Malifain had long ago known the answer to.

“He has taken responsibility for you as long as he is among us. He was reluctant, but he says that he will return at our call, and that you will be transferred to my responsibility when he leaves in a tenday. If you step out of line we are granted to kill you.” He said, his face stoic, and his voice stern like his straight and sculpted face. She nodded, knowing full well if she desired he could have been dead by now. She had no weapons or magical items, but she could have just pounced on him and throttled him with the rope he had. Malifain knew this too, and as he helped her to mount his tall stallion again, this time behind him, he smiled.

Drizzt and the other four were waiting for them in the village square and as they approached, the four elves jumped up from where they sat in the grass, conversing with Drizzt, and grabbed bows. Malifain waved them away as he and Lilithia dismounted, keeping her behind himself.

“She’s harmless.” He said, smiling to Drizzt. “You have done well in tempering her. I see little of the vicious Blood Queen.” He said, noticing Drizzt’s proud smile. The smile of a father. Lilithia glanced over at him, noticing that the elves had never taken his weapons.

“She will get her weapons back in eight tendays,” Malifain corrected before anyone had said a word, “And she is to be watched, but not guarded.” He said, glancing at one of the elves, the black haired male with glittering green hued eyes.

He reached back and tugged Lilithia’s elbow bringing her ahead of him.

“No longer the Blood Queen, she is Lilithia. Lilithia is now my sister, and has taken on twenty years,” He announced, to the incredulous scowls he received, “And not one day less. She is under my watch and if you harm her it will be punished.” He said, wrapping an arm around Lilithia that caught her off guard. He held her waist close as he nodded to the four elves, their bows slowly going down. “You may go now.” He said, turning to Drizzt. “As may you.”

Heads-Up - Starting Monday

I will be in summer school, which means a two week hiatus, and/or temporary speed moderation for how much I write and when. So there may or may not be regular posts anymore for the next two weeks, starting (as you guessed) Monday, July 14th. I am aware that they have given me the 24th off. (It's a state holiday.) I'll probably be writing in my free time then.
Given that I have been using two computers and one is sometimes a bit... uncooperative, it may take a bit for me to get the updates as I sort through files. Right now, I have one update to Lilithia's story. This, I believe, is the longest of the three that were listed as in progress in the previous day's post. it's really rough, some parts of it I don't think mesh very well but it's going up anyways.


Paths of Our Lives

Lilithia awoke bright and early next to her father, turning to him where he was curled under his own cloak. She sat up to wipe the sleep away from her eyes, shivering in the first soft rays of the moonlight. She much preferred night, as he did, for her infrared vision was much easier to tolerate. She wasn’t used to the sun yet, and often times turned her face away from the bright orb. To her surprise, she found a steaming piece of mutton wrapped in a bit of cloth, on a rock next to her.

Drizzt must have cooked and saved her this piece. She leaned over, with him close enough to her as they slept, and gave him a soft kiss on the temple.

“Thank you father.” She whispered, knowing he was awake. His slow smiled revealed him as he shifted over to hide it, her coy grin award him a second quick peck. She was lucky that he had saved her. She had heard the tales of her grandfather Zaknafein, and sometimes wished she could have met the man. She unwrapped the mutton and began to pick at it, eating slowly and savoring its juices.

Her father had told her of her grandsire, how Zak hadn’t left the Menzoberranzan horrors to go to the surface. She hadn’t wanted to; she’d been too wrapped into the lies from birth. She’d had no Zaknafein to shelter her, but her mother had paid special attention to her. She never allowed anyone to speak to the girl privately; Matron Shikia had been very cruel to her. Matron Shikia taught her all the magic she would have learned in Arach-Tinilith but dabbled even further into elven magic, to prepare her against them. Wise, as Shikia had been, she knew if Lilithia understood her enemy, she’d no doubt defeat them. She enlisted the best weapons master in Menzoberranzan to train Lilithia, and was amazed that at sixteen, the girl had defeated, and promptly killed, a master.

To Lilithia, it was all an accident, but she told her mother that she’d killed him because he was weak. And thus, she became the teacher in his stead, training students to become weapons of death. At the time she enjoyed it, returning home as Matron Shikia bade her to. She was to be protected from everything. But she couldn’t be protected from Lolth.

She shook her head as she peeled off some more burnt tidbits of the veal, remembering the wand she carried but seldom used. The black and orange crystal rod was a gift from Lolth herself. The scimitars were a gift. The amulet was a gift. She seemed so covered in magical values that she might explode, but the only concern was where the gifts had come from.

Lolth had given her the wand; she’d used it to forge the amulet on her twentieth birthday. Without the wand the amulet would crumble and without the amulet, the wand was useless. Her scimitars were a gift from her father for when he would begin to temper her fighting skill further. They had been enchanted to return at the call of a single word for her, but she had yet to master it. It was a powerful and complex power which often drained her. She had been gifted, being able to have the powers of two very different goddesses at her back. But she only accepted Mielikki, Lolth’s power was a gift to convince the girl back to her dark world.

Lilithia knew soon one day that power would be gone and the wand would be no more. But she wouldn’t yield; Mielikki was her ‘mother’ now. Thinking was too complicated now, as she wiped her fingers on the piece of cloth and tucked it away in her pack. Drizzt was stirring now as the moon shown bright in the sky.

“You look like you are in pain Lilith.” Drizzt murmured as he shifted. She hadn’t even noticed him standing over by the fire, and the odd way he said her name told her he wasn’t concerned. There was a question he wanted answered.

“No… I’m fine father.” She returned, standing and picking up her gear. It was a slow process strapping everything back on before she turned to him.

“I’m confused. And you want answers.” She said, giving him a guilty little smile, the one that usually turned him head over heels. As he smiled and paced over she knew she had guessed right.

“What are you planning to do if the elves don’t accept that apology?” He asked, his face going stoic. She knew lying wouldn’t even make it past his good senses.

“I’ll offer the rest of my time to replace her in servitude. They can slave me, perhaps I have much to learn from these… elves.” She faltered, nearly calling them enemies as she had been so well trained to. She felt the familiar ball of guilt for hating them. It had taken many beatings for her to come to hate them and many more mental attacks to deny her wrongful hatred. Drizzt nodded and sighed, knowing how painful it would be to leave her in their hands.

“We’ll be in Riverdale before the sun rises?” She asked, looking over his shoulder to the east. Drizzt nodded, staring at her with a curious expression. “What?” She said, shrugging.

“You are not doing this to earn my forgiveness. You have-“ She hissed, surprising him as the feral side he thought had been removed when they left the darkness reappeared.

“No!” She shrieked, calming some to smooth her fine face, “No… I’m doing this for myself. I have already earned your forgiveness, I need to learn humility and humble myself. Temper my… my angers.” She said, turning her gaze down. She just realized she had almost had another outburst and lashed out at him. It wasn’t his fault she was used to killing anyone who dared question her, but this was unexpected. She’d quit acting like this a year ago. Drizzt stepped off onto the path after her kicked dirt over the fire’s embers, waiting for her to follow on her own choice. She touched the amulet, taking a single step and with a gush of wind, appearing just ahead of him and smiling. She rarely used that kind of magic, it was for the lazy in her mind, but she wanted to feed the amulet her anger. After all, it fed on that for it was Lolth’s hand that helped her forge it.

Drizzt smiled and chuckled at her as she tucked the amulet away, matching their steps and yawning softly.

“Father, are you disappointed that I won’t be able to give you grandchildren?” She asked, turning to him in the darkness. He saw the sparkles in her eyes so much like his own. He shook his head and smiled, taking a deep breath.

“No, no I am not Lilithia. You will, in time, find the right boy for you.” He reminded her as he had many times before. She had already had a consort back in Menzoberranzan, but she had refused him many times, preferring to stay childless as long as possible to climb the ranks faster. Lilithia smiled, stepping closer to him.

“And of the one you married many years ago? The human? Is she my step mother?” She asked, a tinkling laugh escaping her lips. How much had she changed, thought Drizzt, from cackling like Malice to the laugh of a young elf?

“Catti-Brie? Of course, if you want her to be.” He was unsure what she needed, a better role model, perhaps a female, or just a mother figure to teach her the ways of women. He knew Lilithia would have a harsh road ahead, but he didn’t doubt for her beauty and delicate body that she couldn’t kill with the efficiency of any dark elf. The conversation slipped away as suddenly as it had come and they welcomed the silence, each thinking over their own set of obstacles. Bruenor had hated Lilithia, after knowing that she had wanted to turn Drizzt into a drider. Catti-Brie had been fine around Lilithia, as welcoming as she’d been to Drizzt, but Wulfgar would have sooner turned Lilithia into a pile of bones than to have her near him.

Her exploits were rather well known, and whenever she passed any of the five, particularly Regis, they had turned over their shoulder. Drizzt only meant to check on her as Catti-Brie, but Bruenor and the others were afraid for their backs. Each time Lilithia felt like screaming out her innocence, but she knew that if she had seemed threatening, she knew they’d have slaughtered her. But her father’s one very poignant conversation with them had kept her safe. She brought back the memory to ease the time of walking.

“She can’t be trusted!” Bruenor roared, slamming his fist down on the wooden table. Drizzt frowned and looked to Catti-Brie, the only other to understand the girl’s good intentions.

“Bruenor, I will take responsibility of Lilithia. On my word, she will not harm you or yours and if she does she will be dealt with, firmly.” Drizzt promised in a calm voice, his eyes flashing violet. Wulfgar stepped in then, snarling.

“She’s evil, Drizzt! You saw her try to kill me with her dark magic.” He growled, pointing an accusing finger across the wood table at Drizzt, her took a deep breath and began his retort.

“She didn’t know any better.” Drizzt said, his voice pleading for them to understand. “How can you blame her when she had no idea of the morals that I adhere to? She knows now, she wouldn’t kill the innocent.” He said, shaking his head and running her palm over the edge of the table. The incredulous looks he received made him feel as if he were the one they were trying to have imprisoned. Bruenor shook his head, standing and growling at Drizzt with such a furious glare that the drow backed up a step.

“The witch stays outside. If and when ye bring her into me halls, she is to be stripped of all her weapons and shackled.” He said, making Drizzt scowl.

“No,” Drizzt hissed, “I’m going to leave then. She needs a father and I need to be with her when she asks all the questions I asked myself.” He said, leaning back from the table and turning on his heel, leaving the room before anyone could make an objection. His words were heavy with the truth, Bruenor knew. Wulfgar had held a grudge against the drow girl after she had tried to cast some spell on him. He had clipped her left knee with Aegis-Fang when he threw it, and had nearly crippled her. But Lady Alustriel had been summoned to heal her, by Drizzt of course.

Drizzt stood outside the room, waiting as Catti-Brie left to go find him. She turned and he put a finger to his lips so they might listen in on the others. They heard Regis sneak in from another door, having been avoiding Drizzt at all costs, just as much as he would Lilithia later on. None but Catti-Brie and Drizzt had met Lilithia after the change, after Drizzt had brought her to the surface in ropes. Wulfgar had caught a fleeting glimpse as she had tried to cast a spell on him, trying to keep the angry man away as she fought off the Shadow, but it was purely because he couldn’t have seen it. Her attempt had nearly cost her life when the shadow had returned, and Wulfgar had come upon the cripple. Drizzt stopped them both as he battled the invisible enemy, only seen in infrared eyes. Wulfgar had been so amazed by the display he set aside the attack and let Lilithia get away.

She didn’t realize she’d been crying until Drizzt’s hand shook her firmly.

“Lilithia?” He asked when she collapsed against his shoulder.

“W-Wulf… gar…” She hiccupped, biting her lip. Drizzt had tried his best to get it through to her, it wasn’t her fault the barbarian had misinterpreted her try to keep him safe. The blow of the hammer had smashed her knee almost beyond repair Lady Alustriel had fixed it easily, but it was still stiff from time to time. As she stopped crying, Drizzt released her, keeping her to his side as they began walking again. Lilithia couldn’t answer as her memories returned.

Lilithia awoke in a nice bed, the silk nightgown she wore hiding the fat cast around her left knee. She could only see the blur of a single ebony face in the dim room around her. She could here him crying, though he wasn’t sobbing. Drizzt had honestly believed her dead that night, her breath was so shallow. When he saw here eyes open he smiled, wiping his tears away and leaning forward. She could see the exhaustion on his face, and knew though she couldn’t understand what he was saying, that she was the cause of it.

“Vel'uss ph'dos?” She had murmured, pushing away from him as she searched for weapons that weren’t there. Drizzt was astounded by her words, in the drow language. He nodded, reaching out to herself.

“I am your father.” He replied in the drow tongue, “Drizzt Do’Urden.”

Right after that she’d passed out, the pain coming from her knee too much to bear. She’d moved it and it had ground together, bone and tendons in one huge mass.

Drizzt shook her gently again, this time bringing her from the memories for good.

“I was… the night you explained to me the reasons why I would be better for staying with you.” She whispered, her voice dry and hoarse. Drizzt nodded, kissing her cheek to bolster her strength.

“Not far now. Not more than a mile.” He sad, smiling. Lilithia bit her lip. She’d been thinking for most the night, and now the sun’s first rays shown dull against the far mountain crests.

“I’m going to leave my things with you.” She said, her finality surprising him. For once, she knew where and when, without a question.

In Progress

I have three pieces in progress right now, most of which should or are over three pages in length. I may have to edit the descriptions, but they should be accurate. They are in chronological order, starting after Making Things Right.


Paths of Our Lives
---- Drizzt and Lilithia set out on the path to Riverdale, where she plans to make amends for the murder of Aya. Drizzt watches her as along the way, she remembers things of the past, a past so much like his own.

Meeting In the Meadows
---- Lilithia meets Malifain, Aya's older brother, and they have a bit of a romantic interlude. When Malifain's older brother, the half-elf Solanil, discovers that the 'Blood Queen' is in Riverdale, he demands a match of magic with her. Lilithia isn't too happy with the tense air about Solanil and neither are Drizzt and Malifain.

Spring Blooms
---- Malifain's falling head over heels for Lilithia... and she knows it! Drizzt is a bit clueless about what is blossoming between the two, but he's leaving Riverdale with rumors of trouble floating from Mithral Hall.

Also in line for posting is a second update for Ashes on the Water that details Joshua and Michelle's brief reunion.

Making Things Right

To start off, this piece has a bit of a 'theme'. Lilithia is questioning herself, the reasons she had for her past, the reasons she would so readily betray and have killed for, and what she sees sickens her to the core. The song I strongly associate with the theme is "Sound the Bugle"*, sung by Brian Adams and composed by Hans Zimmer. (YouTube video*) A very adorable father and daughter moment as well, when Drizzt distracts her from herself for a few moments.




Making Things Right

Lilithia stood on the porch of the small cottage, looking out over the grassy yard with tears rimming her eyes. She shut them against the playful giggles of an elven girl, the blond hair and shimmering green eyes lively as she and her friend had watched and planned their demise from beyond a bush. She watched the little girl's shock at seeing her, her dying screams when the bolt blasted a hole through the youngster's chest.
And the root of her pain - Lilithia had smiled and laughed at the entire scene as the lights left the girl's eyes, and her blood pooled in the dirt.
She felt one tear streak down her cheek and opened her eyes, looking around to ensure her father had not been watching. She wished, though, that he would come to her now and hold her body in his arms and whisper things that only he could into her ear, to make the pain go away. She ran a hand up her left arm, gripping her elbow and looking down to the hilts of her gift scimitars.
She looked to the wing tip just below, of her dark purple wing, drooping low now that it had been released from her straight jacket type body armor. She hated those wings, the curse she had been born with. She had not been slain then for her mother's naive assumption the girl could prove to be powerful enough to raise the house to 'great heights', she could remember her mother saying. But for all she was worth, that woman wasn't her mother, only by blood. Even if she thought Drizzt held contempt for siring such a filthy beast, he did not. He loved her more than anyone could, and although she understood everyone had reasons to avoid being alone with her, it stung as clearly as any sword.
Yet she knew she had earned that treatment.
She didn't understand why she had wings, other than her family's strange like of demons. She knew there was demonic blood in her heritage, her magical ability hadn't waned as she reached the surface. Somewhere, but not by any plan, was dragon blood. A very weak strain from a magically transformed dragon that had sired her grandmother, she knew. Rakingclaw, she had heard the whispers.
A hand on her shoulder brought her gaze up from the floor, sweeping over to the owner of the hand with a sad smile.
"How did I know you'd be here? Come now, why is my beautiful daughter crying?" Drizzt asked, stepping forward to wipe the tear off her chin and wrap the shorter girl into a comforting hug. He understood fully what Lilithia was going through, he himself had fought the same fights all through his life. But now, watching his sweet daughter in pain was almost too much to bear, but knowing he could not remove that pain with any amount of words, weaponry or magic cut the deepest pains. Knowing he had missed a greater part of her young life, and had not been there, been able to stave off the darkness of the drow's lies.
"Father... have you ever felt that you made a mistake? I mean... I know how you dislike killing the innocent... but..." She stammered, at a loss. She couldn't bring words to explain her pain at killing that one elf girl.
Drizzt nodded and kissed her forehead, wrapping his finger into a curly lock of her snowy white hair on the back of her neck as he rubbed her shoulder. He gave her a kind smile, still young for his years.
"It was long ago, before I brought your heart to the light. Now, forget the old Lilithia. Let her die deep down in the damnded tunnels of the underdark, and give birth to a new Lilithia." He said, lifting her chin as she dropped her gaze to the floor again. he moved his head far enough to the left to look straight into her striking lavender and gold flecked eyes. She smiled, hugging his waist tighter and forcing his hearty laugh out.
"You are not going to be a grandfather yet." She told him jokingly, laughing and sneakily unclasping his weapons belt. As she heard it clang to the floor, she kicked it away, but as she reached for her own scimitars, he waved the belt above her head and grinned. She folded her arms, once more having been out-done by her father. She bit her lip, his now fading smile driving her on as she launched at him, arms wide. She knocked the belt away and pinned him down, her hair whipping forward. But Drizzt, knowing well her intentions, grabbed her sides and wiggled his fingers through her light armor, laughing as she started to giggle wildly.
"S... sstop!" She squealed, writhing and trying to get away as she fell sideways off of him. He followed, pulling his hands away to tap her nose before standing. He gathered both belts up, handing hers to her as she joined him.
"Father, I need... I need to go to Riverdale and accept my punishment from Aya's family. I... her family called out her name as we were leaving." She gasped as she tried to catch her breath. It had been more than a call. The playful moment dimmed greatly when she remembered the agonized wails of the girl's kinfolk as they discovered the girl dead. Drizzt nodded, opening the door to reveal two full packs and two full water skins beside them.
"I planned to go that way anyways." He responded, drawing a smile back to her lips, though it wasn't sincere.
"Where, if not Riverdale?" Lilithia questioned, glancing at the packs again.
"Mithral Hall. I believe that you should spend some time with the dwarves." He said, shouldering his pack and handing her the other. "They have much for you to learn."
Lilithia nodded and adjusted the pack, strapping her weapons back on. Sometimes the man puzzled her but her love for him never waned. Even on the day he swore to kill her if she did not yeild. The day she had been broken by those vicious blades and rebuilt by the gentle hands that held them. Indeed, he had nearly killed her, but her own stubbornness was responsible. She had lived up her father's reputation well, as well with fighting as she did for what she believed in.
As if timed, her thoughts came to an end and Drizzt called to her, now standing beyond the yard. He had settled this secluded house just for her, as she spent time healing from the many injuries he had given her, and healing her mind. He wanted her to know peace as she came to terms with the many changes. She skipped down the steps and joined him, almost missing her pet, Dir. But Dir was slain, he refused to obey a goodly master.
Lilithia knew she would have to explain to that family why she had killed their daughter. Though an apology would not be enough, she would not promise to suffer eternally. No, she knew that the gift she would offer would be great enough. After all, she had promised when she stepped into the sunlight, to right all the wrongs her mother had created. Two hundred years worth of bad deeds. But Lilithia was stout and young, barely sixty three years in drow.
She had yet to know if the elves would accept her offer, if she allowed them to rid her of weapons and everything they deemed a threat, or if they would turn her away. Perhaps they'd kill her, but the few elven folk she did know were kind, if it was only enough so not to shove her aside as they passed, but she accepted every tidbit gracefully. With eyes out on the tree lined horizon, the drow maiden set out on the long and steady path just ahead of her father, her steps bouncing along with the low sun. She would make things right.