Chapter Text
Drizzt's return to Mithral Hall hadn't been exactly seamless but it had gone smoother than he'd been expecting. The dwarves had had plenty of time to get used to his presence in the tunnels and even in his more feral mindset he'd been a welcome presence. The miners in particular had shown appreciation to the fact the Drider had kept the actual monsters out of the lower tunnels. They were almost sad to see him move out of the area and back into the main compound. Not that any of them would complain about it.
The Dwarves were more readily accepting of him then Drizzt was of himself if truth was to be told.
The biggest obstacle proved to simply be his size as he made traffic through the tunnels...awkward at times. In the smaller tunnels many of the Dwarves had resorted to simply crawling under him if they had to and while they never did more than make light of the situation when it happened...it was still somewhat embarrassing for him. He was right in his earlier assumptions that his old room was no longer an acceptable accommodation but Bruenor wasted no time in setting his people to work on finding him something better just as he'd promised him he would. On Drizzt's own suggestions they quickly set to carving out a cubby in the large training hall which would afford him plenty of space. Not only was the room itself huge but the halls leading to and from it were large enough for him to traverse without making it hard on others to get by. This new room wasn't too much different from the setup afforded weapon masters in Drow houses...not that he would admit that out loud. He was not in said house so the comparison didn't really matter. If it worked, it worked.
Stubbornness had led to them trying to make the new room comfortable with altered furniture, but in the end Drizzt finally admitted that his old natural setup had been far more physically comfortable for his altered body. In private he moved the furniture out for use outside of his own room and set about building a proper nest with his own webbing. It was a minor form of self-acceptance perhaps that he didn't make himself horribly uncomfortable by ignoring his body's needs. The fact his spider limbs enjoyed the softness of webbing over the harshness of stone and the scratchy pulling texture of cloth against the sensitive hairs on his legs. He layered it thick and it even proved effective in dampening the vibrations from the forges that he could often feel through his feet.
He knew Bruenor had set out to find any answers he could to his situation over the year he'd been lost...but the answers hadn't been promising. Even Alustriel had so far only been able to promise that she would do whatever she could to find the answers. She had been in regular contact with one of her sisters who was far more familiar with his current state of being...but the answer had required more from him than he'd been capable of providing. He had nothing against The Dark Maiden and her followers...but he was not one of them, and that simple fact proved an issue that could not have been addressed with him in his previously feral state. They had hoped to find a measure to clear his mind, a much easier task, but...the interruption to magic throughout the realms had put everything on hold.
Now it was simply a waiting game to see how it all resolved and where they went when it did. Even so...the question of his devotion to any divine source that could prove helpful was...a significant one. To him if no one else. If they asked him to pledge himself to an unknown power, regardless of her benevolence, simply for the sake of removing his curse...he couldn't say he'd ever be willing to do so.
Returning to the surface had been...a bigger obstacle and he had outright refused. The dwarves accepted him...but would the barbarians of Settlestone ever see him as anything more than a monster? Or the humans of Nesme? People who had born him no love as he'd been before. Why should he expect anything now?
It had taken a great deal of coaxing to make him budge on it. Bruenor had done everything he could to make him feel like the person he was and always had been. New clothing, tailored with his changed shape in mind. New armor. Adjusted weapon belts that looped over his shoulders instead of around his waist so his legs didn't interfere with his ability to draw his weapons. He'd spared no expense to ensure he knew he was still one of them.
Still...he remained unconvinced. He'd even started braiding his hair and Bruenor had gifted him beautifully intricate Mithral beads to add to the new look, dwarven adornments, and a very kingly gift indeed.
Anything to reassure him that he looked like the thinking person he was upon first being seen by others.
And yet...here he was...still...in his room, when he was meant to be meeting Catti-brie and heading out to speak with their gathering forces above. It was a diplomatic effort and not one he felt his presence would do anything but make worse. Still Bruenor insisted that he make his presence known and he knew, logically, that he should. Their allies needed to know he was not an enemy...especially if the Drow forces brought their own Drider with them.
"If they won't be acceptin' ye, then we don' be needin' 'em!" Bruenor kept insisting...but Drizzt knew that wasn't true, even if he appreciated the sentiment.
He sighed and looked down at the panther figurine in his hands. He'd been assured she would be fine, despite the loss of magic, as she had not been in use since the Time of Troubles had begun. Still, his inability to see his closest friend since he'd returned was a heavy weight. He prayed they were right.
"Yer hidin' again." Catti's voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he lifted his head to acknowledge her with a small smile. His claws traced the delicate features on the statuette before he placed her back on the stand he'd been keeping her on for the time being. Catti backed out of the tunnel leading to his room and he followed her out into the main training room.
"...do you really think this is wise?" he asked her.
She gave him a look and shook her head, "You canna be stayin' down here all the time. You hate it more than ye be admitten' to."
It was true enough and he couldn't argue against that fact. He hadn't set foot above ground since he'd returned, and a year before that. He was eager to be above ground...it was the idea of dealing with people he was nervous about, "It's not about that."
She started to reach out and touch his arm but then stopped and retracted her hand, reaching it up to run through her hair instead. There had been a noticeable schism between them since he'd come back...one they both could recognize but neither had been willing to fully address. They avoided each other as often as they spoke to each other. Even now...he wasn't sure he knew what to say to her.
He idly reached up to fiddle with one of the beaded braids in his hair and she gave him a look and pointed to it, "That's what I be talkin' about."
He gave her a look of confusion and she continued, "Yer hidin'. Yer doin' all...this...it's not like ye at all." she said and motioned to all of him. His clothing and hair in particular, "Ye don' even look like you."
He scowled at her and she scowled right back, "I don' mean yer extra bits and ye know it. Yer hidin' yerself like ye did with that durned mask. Makin' yerself look like how ye thinkin' others wanta see ye."
"...I like the braids." he protested weakly and she was quick to cut him off.
"Ye hate havin' stuff in yer hair. Ye said so. Many o' times. It makes the weight on yer head feel off and ye can't stop playin' with 'em." She said, pointedly, and crossed her arms over her chest.
He blinked, his hand frozen where it was doing just that, and he lowered it with a sharp sigh.
"...I am not who I was..."
"Yer different...but that don' mean yer not yerself." she struggled to explain but he interrupted her before she could continue, "No, I am not who I was...I am not even what I was. That means something, Catti. I can't just pretend it doesn't. You can't." he insisted forcefully.
She frowned and lowered her arms back to her sides but didn't say anything to stop him from continuing, so he did just that, "...I will always be your friend. Of course, I am...but, I need you to accept that I am not the Drow I was before. Really accept it...and not just deny that I am something other than I have become. That there are things about me that will always be different than I was. That I may never be anything else again."
She opened her mouth to protest that and he raised a hand to stop her, "No. I know you are trying to help me and I appreciate that, but how can you tell me not to hide when you act this way?"
She flinched but remained silent.
"...I am not trying to hide, Cat,...I am just trying to find myself again. Will you let me do that?" he asked finally.
She frowned but slowly nodded, "...okay."
He hesitated and there was a very long moment of silent acceptance that stretched between them. Of silent understanding. She couldn't tell him who he was when he had yet to figure it out on his own. He just needed time...and he needed his friends to be willing to give him that time for himself. Even when it made them uncomfortable to do so.
"...I...do hate the braids." he admitted, when the moment had passed.
She chuckled and the tension eased. She shrugged, "They look nice though."
They just stood there for a moment and it was almost like old times again...almost...
The moment faded, "...why did you leave me?" he asked quietly and there it was...the thing that had existed between them and kept them apart.
Her eyes widened and she shook her head, "I...I didn't...know...I thought..."
"What?"
She looked ashamed and refused to look at him, "I don' know why I thought I should let ye go...it were stupid o' me. I shoulda stopped ye. I went and let Entreri make me think ye was better off if ye didn' know who ye was."
Drizzt grimaced, "...Entreri..."
"I told ye. It were stupid o' me. I don't know what I was thinkin', listenin' tae that one, but ye know, he sounded like...he actually cared. If ye can be believin' it. If I'd known..." she stopped and shook her head.
"I wasn't always unaware. That was the worst part. Sometimes, it was like I would wake up just long enough to realize what was happening. Never long enough to do anything about it. Just long enough to know I was alone. I couldn't tell for how long or where I even was. It was torture." he explained further and her face twisted into one of horror.
"Oh, I...Drizzt...I didn't mean tae..." but she stopped. He sighed and shook his head. He smiled at her, "...It's ok. I know...just. Don't do that again. Don't leave me alone again."
She looked confused for a moment until she realized, "Yer worried it'll come back?" she asked.
He nodded, "It went away when magic did...but who's to say it won't come back the same way?"
"Alustriel said she could be helpin' with that if it came to it."
"She said she thinks she can."
Catti snorted, "...ye couldn't have a better friend on yer side tae try."
He smiled at that and nodded his agreement. He took in a deep breath and let it out again, trying to release some of the anxiety that had been plaguing him since he'd come back.
She smiled back and this time when she reached out she didn't pull back. She took his hand in her own and gave it a reassuring squeeze, "It's ok. No matter what. None o' us are gonna leave ye on yer own again." she promised.
He held her hand in his and just let himself bask in the comfort of that for a minute before she decided to speak again, "...so...are ye coming above with me now?" she asked, reminding him of the reason she was there in the first place.
He grimaced again but then slowly nodded, "Yes...I'd like that. There is one other thing though."
"What?"
"...I...haven't been able to eat."
She looked surprised for a minute and then remembered that he'd been unable to stomach the solid rations she'd tried to give him in the Underdark. The fact he'd been hunting and eating as a spider did. She had almost thought that had just been his mindset and not the result of his new anatomy, "Ye mean...ye haven't...then what have ye been doin'?"
"Broth mostly. Anything solid makes me ill." he explained and now that he mentioned it, he did look a bit on the thin side.
She considered it then shrugged, "We could do some huntin' before we get to Settlestone." she suggested.
"You don't mind that I do that?" he asked.
"The important question be if ye mind doin' it yer own self?" she said, raising an eyebrow at him, "How I see it...venison is venison regardless of how ye be choosin' tae eat it. Cook it over a fire or not. A dead deer is still just a dead deer."
He smiled a bit and nodded, "...I suppose that's true enough..."though he still seemed a bit uncertain.
"No one's gonna judge ye fer needin' tae eat, Drizzt."
"I wouldn't say no one."
"No one who matters." she specified, rolling her eyes, "Ye don't need tae apologize fer eatin' how ye need tae." and she sounded disgusted by the very idea of anyone even getting that upset about it.
He blinked at her, squeezed her hand again and then pulled her into a tight hug, "...I missed you."
She laughed warmly and hugged him back, "I missed ye too." she said and neither let go right away. She let her head rest against his shoulder and his two front most legs came up around her gently but she didn't mind.
Neither noticed the figure of a certain Dwarf watching from the shadows of the open door. He turned and left before either could see, lest they realize the true reason behind his demands that they go above together.
"Heh heh heh, it be about damn time." Bruenor congratulated himself as he strode down the tunnel, an extra hop to his step as he went.