Chapter Text
The sun was lowering in the sky, casting a melancholy twilight over the rolling foothills of the Spine of the World. Artemis Entreri seemed terribly out of place in the north, his heavy boots and multiple thick cloaks making him look somewhat like a short, dark tundra yeti. He couldn’t help that. He was from the desert, thousands of miles away from his current perch on top of a cliff. The thought of going back had turned his stomach so violently that he had fled the exact opposite direction from Menzoberranzan: straight north, where freezing to death sounded much more noble than being hunted like he had hunted those in his previous life.
That place wasn’t his home anymore, and now he felt like a scared child running away from the only life he had ever known. His arms clutched at his torso, his legs dangling over the edge. He could barely contain the chill of the nighttime wind, even under his layers of warm clothes. How does anyone even survive up here, he thought flatly. He looked down to the ground below, at a bed of jagged rocks and thin mountain grass. It made him dizzy. He considered that he should probably move away from the edge, but he couldn’t make himself care. He didn’t even feel like Artemis Entreri anymore, and no matter how hard he tried, he felt nothing. There was no anger or bitterness anymore, no disgust to fuel him to go on. What kind of life was that? He took his beloved dagger out of its sheath and stared hard at it, its impossibly sharp blade gleaming in the dull light of sunset. He wondered how it would feel at his own throat. Unbeknownst to the distressed assassin, two forms were about to cross his path.
“Do ye think that Regis is having dinner right about now?” joked Catti-brie, her bow resting easily on her back.
“Probably his third or fourth,” said Drizzt, drawing a chuckle from both of them. “I hope Bruenor hides his stock well.”
“Not well enough,” Catti said. “He’ll find a way.” She didn’t notice that her drow companion was peering off into the dark until there had been silence for several seconds. She took a few steps forward to meet him, and squinted. “Ye see something?” she whispered. He nodded.
He stared at the form curiously, stalking forward with one scimitar out and his other hand in his pouch, feeling at Guenhwyvar’s onyx figurine. He was seconds away from calling the huge panther out when the figure took down its hood, revealing a head of unkempt black hair. Drizzt still couldn’t see much, with the figure’s back to him, but at least it was a human and not a tundra yeti.
“There’s someone sitting on the cliff over there,” Drizzt mumbled. Catti-brie took out her cat’s eye circlet, slipping it over her head and looking off into the darkness. She caught vision of the figure just as they both watched him set his dagger down on the ground next to him.
“Entreri?” they both said at the same time, their jaws dropping open. They were silent for several long moments. “In the north?” Catti said, breaking the silence.
“Stay back here,” Drizzt said softly. “He wants me.”
“I’ll be coming to help ye if he dares to get close,” Catti said, backing behind a tree and drawing her bow. She caught Guenhwyvar’s figurine as it was tossed to her, ready to call the panther if needed.
Drizzt circled around, trying to get a view of the assassin from the side. If he knew that Drizzt was there, he showed no sign of it, but that meant nothing where Artemis Entreri was concerned. He kept Twinkle sheathed to not alert him with its glow, but his hand rested firmly on the hilt. He was ready to charge when the assassin stood, his dagger in hand. He stood at a safe distance, observing his every move.
Entreri gripped his dagger so tightly that his knuckles were a sickly white. His breath was coming in ragged gasps as he brought it to his throat, nicking it gently and drawing blood. He didn’t even register the tears streaming down his cheeks. His mouth twisted to mumble words that he couldn’t control, all picked up by Drizzt’s sensitive ears.
Drizzt could barely believe what he was seeing. He wondered if it was all a plot to lower his guard, but Entreri had really drawn blood- how could it be? He inched closer, lowering Icingdeath back into its sheath.
Entreri jerked his dagger away from his throat with a gasp. He couldn’t do it, but what did that make him? Was he a bigger coward than he had already accepted himself to be? He threw his dagger to the ground, sticking it perfectly into the dirt. He leaned over the edge, considering the fall. He didn’t think he could survive it; he wouldn’t have to wander the lands looking to feel something. He would finally be free of his torment.
Entreri’s legs bent and tensed, ready to jump. Drizzt tensed his legs as well, Dantrag Baenre’s bracers feeling like a very lucky thing to have in that moment. He ran faster than Catti-brie could process, shoving his nemesis to the ground so hard that he landed several feet away from the edge, the air leaving his lungs. Before Catti-brie realized what she was doing she let a single arrow fly, scorching the ground inches away from Entreri’s head. Had he not turned to look at his attacker, the arrow would have pierced his skull. Drizzt abandoned Entreri for the moment to shout for Catti to hold her fire, when a flying black figure landed squarely on Entreri’s chest, knocking what air he had regained back out of him again. Drizzt could barely process what was happening as he ordered Guenhwyvar off of the poor assassin, who was struggling to breathe. His arms clutched at his torso, trying to seem as small as possible.
Catti came running from the woods, Khazid’hea in her hands. “Can’t ye understand when ye’ve been beat?” she spat in Entreri’s direction. Entreri said nothing. “Why can’t ye just leave us alone?” she said as Drizzt shot her a glare so uncharacteristic that she nearly dropped Khazid’hea.
“He didn’t attack me,” he growled, struggling to understand why he was so upset. He couldn’t even place the reason that he saved Entreri at all; he should have let the vile assassin jump! “I told you to stay back, and you sent Guenhwyvar for him,” he said softly, yet with an edge that scolded Catti-brie’s rash decisions. “He wasn’t here for us at all.”
Entreri had forced enough air back into his lungs to focus on listening to his assailants. He lifted his head up gingerly, wishing with everything he had that he had just used his dagger. “Why do you always manage to ruin my day,” he groaned at Drizzt, his cheeks still wet with tears.
“By saving your life?” Drizzt snapped at him. “You should be thanking me.” His lavender eyes bore holes into the assassin, demanding an explanation that he knew he wouldn’t receive.
“I didn’t ask,” he said in a voice that seemed much less intimidating than he had intended. “Not everyone has a life so perfect as Drizzt Do’Urden,” he mocked.
Drizzt’s expression softened. “Make camp over there,” he told Catti gently, staring at the ground. “I’ll be there soon.” He bade Guenhwyvar home to the Astral Plane, though not without a protest. Catti left without a word. She looked back multiple times, just in case. Drizzt stared at Entreri, trying to decide which question he most wanted to ask. “Why are you here?” he finally choked out. “I would think that the Spine of the World is less than ideal for someone raised in the desert.”
Entreri couldn’t look at him. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice void of any conviction. He sounded defeated. Drizzt had never been so surprised in his life. This wasn’t the Entreri that he knew. He reached to his left for the discarded dagger, then knelt down to Entreri’s level. He placed it down on the ground. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said softly. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have-”
“But you didn’t,” Entreri interrupted. “You didn’t know.” His eyes were fixed on the dagger. “You saw me and assumed I was here to kill you,” he said. “Because all I think about is my hatred of Drizzt Do’Urden,” he spat.
“No,” said Drizzt compassionately. “You’re just so far from home, closer to my own home,” he started, but Entreri interrupted again.
“Home?” he echoed. “I don’t have a home.” He took a ragged breath. “Not anymore.”
Drizzt could hear the agony in his voice. “Do… you have a place to sleep tonight?”
Entreri finally looked up at him, as though he couldn’t believe that Drizzt would ask something so stupid. “I planned on being dead,” he snapped. “So no, I suppose I don’t.” He laid his head back on the ground, pulling his cloak tight around him. “Just go away,” he said, barely containing a voice crack. “Before she shoots at me again.”
Drizzt placed a hand on Entreri’s shoulder, working it underneath the assassin to pull him up. “I wish I knew why I was doing this,” Drizzt mumbled. “You’ll freeze to death if I leave you here.” He sighed. “Come camp with us tonight.”
“You despise me,” he replied. “I am not a vessel to further your pride.”
“Consider it an act of northern hospitality,” he said with a small smile. “I can’t imagine that you’ve had much kindness extended to you.” He slid Entreri’s dagger back into its sheath and took his hand, shifting a foot underneath himself in preparation to pull him up. “Can you stand?” He pulled on Entreri, hoisting the man to his feet. He groaned, his left ankle twisted from the fall. Drizzt snaked an arm around him, gesturing to the fire in the distance. They walked slowly, Entreri limping hard on his left foot and looking rather pitiful. By the time they made it to the camp, Catti-brie had warmed some porridge and strips of meat that had been hunted earlier in the day.
When she saw Entreri limping to camp with Drizzt, she finally dropped the spoon she had been using to stir the porridge. “Ye’ve got to be kidding me,” she said. “Have ye lost yer mind?”
“Entreri is our guest,” he said cheerfully.
“No guest of mine,” she said, lifting an eyebrow.
Drizzt shrugged. “Then, he’s my guest.” He looked over to Entreri, who had pulled his hood over his head and was looking at the ground in shame. “This is Catti-brie,” he said with a smile. “To properly introduce you.”
“We’ve met,” growled Catti. “I’m not the scared little girl I was back then,” she spat at him. “I’ll never forgive you.”
“I was doing my job,” said Entreri so softly that even Drizzt had to strain his ears. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t bring them back,” she said, referring to her dwarven friends that Entreri had killed in pursuit of Regis. She shrugged. “At least ye’re payin’ for what ye’ve done.” With that, she went back to the porridge.
Drizzt couldn’t bring himself to reprimand her. Of course she felt this way, and she had every right to; Entreri had murdered her friends in cold blood. However, Drizzt knew deep down that it was wrong to feel satisfaction over watching Entreri try to end his life. He clapped Entreri on the shoulder, and bade him to sit on a felled log by the fire. They walked together, Entreri still limping, and Drizzt helped him onto the log. Entreri pulled off his gloves and warmed his trembling hands, pretending that he didn’t notice Drizzt staring at him like he was an exotic animal. Catti-brie settled onto a rock and dug into her food, her eyes never breaking the glare she was giving Entreri. Drizzt passed him a bowl, but Entreri only shook his head. His senses were overwhelmed, his head spinning as he tried to focus on the fire. A chill rolled through his body, running all the way down to his bones.
Drizzt pushed the bowl at him again. “It’s warm,” he said softly. Entreri took the bowl into his hands and picked up the spoon, bringing it to his lips. He tried to force it in, but this was their food, and their fire. What right did he have to it? He turned his head away from Drizzt and put the spoon back, giving the bowl back to him. He knew that he was crying, but he refused to think about it. He knew that Catti-brie was looking at him, hating him for the person he had been, the person that didn’t exist anymore. He knew that no matter what he did, he could never escape the Artemis Entreri who inflicted pain to ease the suffering in his own heart.
Drizzt had opened his mouth to speak to Catti-brie, but she spoke before he could. “I don’t want to watch this,” she said. “I’m taking Guenhwyvar for a walk.” She stood up and turned on her heel, and soon she was gone into the darkness.
Drizzt placed a hand on Entreri’s shoulder. “We are not so different, you know,” he said gently.
Entreri sniffled. “You don’t know a thing about me.” He sounded like he was exhausted.
“I suppose not,” said Drizzt. “Why don’t you tell me something about yourself?”
Entreri paused for a long moment. “There’s nothing to tell,” he finally concluded.
“Did you grow up in Calimport?” Drizzt asked.
Entreri shook his head. “Memnon,” he said softly. Although he said nothing else, he could see his parents in his mind’s eye. His mother, dead-eyed and dirty as she sold herself on the streets, and his father with his missing teeth and breath reeking of liquor. He closed his eyes and tried to shove the memory out, but it was no use. His uncle’s face pushed its way onto his eyelids, and before he could stop it, he was heaving. He would have vomited up his lunch, but there was nothing there.
Drizzt reached out for Entreri, but he stopped himself. He knew that Entreri would pull his dagger out if he did, out of reflex. “Entreri,” he said gently but firmly, pushing his voice past the assassin’s walls and bringing reality back to him, at least a little.
He heaved one more time before opening his eyes, trying to remember where he was and what he was doing. He gasped for air. Of all the things to be asked about, Drizzt had to ask about his childhood?
“Your stomach is empty,” said Drizzt, his voice sounding a lot like music in Entreri’s ears. “You have to eat something.”
Entreri forced himself to turn back to Drizzt, his heart still pounding in his ears. Drizzt had placed his untouched bowl of food next to the fire to keep it warm, and he retrieved it then.
“I shouldn’t have asked you something like that,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”
Though Entreri tried, he couldn’t force any words out of his mouth. Drizzt only looked at him kindly, moving so close to him that they were practically pressed together. He held a spoon up and gestured to Entreri with it. Clearly Drizzt didn’t mean to feed him, Entreri thought, but when he kept holding up the spoon, he wasn’t so sure. Entreri looked at the spoon ashamedly, his fingers twitching. “It’s okay,” Drizzt said softly. “Just try it.” Entreri closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and forced his mouth open. Drizzt pushed the spoon into his mouth, trying his hardest not to make it any more embarrassing for Entreri than it already was.
It was only porridge, but Entreri hadn’t eaten in so long that he practically melted as it slid down his throat, leaving a pleasantly warm feeling in its wake. Entreri brought his own waterskin to his mouth, drinking from it gingerly. Drizzt fed him a few more bites until Entreri’s pride faded and he could stomach feeding himself. Catti-brie came back soon, Guenhwyvar in tow and more wood for the fire tucked under her arm. She still looked ornery, but Entreri’s fear had shifted from her to Guenhwyvar. The panther narrowed her eyes at him, a low growl starting in her throat.
“Guen,” said Drizzt sharply. “Stop it. Entreri is our guest,” he told her. She padded towards him slowly, cautiously, until she was only a foot from his face. Entreri swallowed his fear and held a hand out for her to smell, tensing his muscles to keep it from trembling. She took one deep sniff, then narrowed her eyes once more, snorting at him.
“You can rest, Guen,” he said, bading her back to her home on the Astral Plane. “Thank you.” With that Guenhwyvar was gone, disappeared into mist. “I will take first watch,” said Drizzt. “You two can sleep.”
Catti-brie glared at Drizzt for only a second, but settled into her bedroll without a word. Entreri laid his bedroll out on the ground, wrapping his cloaks around him tighter as he laid down.
“You don’t have a blanket?” said Drizzt as he watched Entreri settle in.
“I’m not from the north,” Entreri said softly. Drizzt frowned, and picked up his own blanket from the bedroll next to him. He laid it on Entreri, shaking the anger from his mind. He didn’t know why he felt so compelled to extend his hospitality to someone he had wanted dead the last time they had seen each other, but he couldn’t help but wonder what Entreri was like under all of the hatred and anger. Maybe underneath, he wasn’t so bad after all.
Entreri brought the blanket around him and laid his head on the pillow. He couldn’t help but notice how it smelled like Drizzt; an earthy, floral smell that reminded him of the forest itself. He wanted to thank Drizzt, but he couldn’t. Not yet.