FanFiction.Net - unleash your imagination 
mobile edition|
Author of 6 Stories |
Disclaimer: Of course none of this belongs to me. All characters/places etc. belong to their creators. The only one who is mine is Shi'van.
A note (please read before proceeding to the story): Basically, this is just another HotU story. Well, mostly anyway. While the basic plot is still present, I changed quite a few things along the way. Something like, this is how HotU might have turned out. And what drove me to write this whole thing is… well, it was interesting to do so and I thought I might as well share it with the rest of you. Rated PG 13 just to be on the safe side.
The Clash of Shadows
introduction
, "The way is clear." whispered the shadow behind him. It took him some effort to keep his face expressionless and his breathing even, not to show just how startled he was. Reddish glint of her eyes and a taunting smirk told him he didn't quite make it. He felt a renewed anger rising inside him, but before he could even begin to growl something, she already moved to the door, easily slipping out of the shadow and casually exposing her back to him. For a brief second he considered the opportunity. The only thing that stayed his hand was the thought of what would the Seer say. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he moved after her…
Her chuckle turned into a hearty laughter as she watched him rise back to his feet, his face bright red with rage and embarrassment. A trip-trap! Of all the bloody things he could have done, he stepped straight into a trip-trap!
"You know …" she managed to say between two snickers "… you're cute when your cheeks match the color of your hair." And with that, she doubled over with laughter, apparently not at all disturbed by the fact that she was alone in the room with half o' ton of barely contained ragefury on a verge of a nervous breakdown. Well, half a dozen drow corpses that lied scattered around – her own handiwork from some 15 minutes ago – might've had something to do with that. Still, this time she stepped over the line. His rage taking over, he launched himself at her, striking hard.
Next few seconds were a blur of motion. He was aware somewhere in the back of his mind that he scored a hit, but that damnable creature was somehow still alive, rolling together with his blow and to his left. His next two strikes followed an instant later, forcing her to retreat even further. Much to her credit, she not only managed to dodge the last one, but she also launched a counter strike of her own with one of her two blades. Not too precise one and far from being lethal, but even so he felt the vicious bite of her blade keenly. It was just a graze really, but that blood-thirsty sword of hers tugged at his life force nevertheless.
"What the fuck is your problem?" He heard her sharp hiss from the shadows. Abruptly, he turned in the direction of the voice.
His first words came out as an incomprehensible snarl. Which was just as well, for he had no idea what he was going to say anyway. Offer an apology? Hardly likely. This … this trice-damned arrogant half-elf didn't stop taunting and provoking him since they made their first step out in the caves. And all the while muttering curses under her breath - mostly aimed at the geas, but from what he was able to understand (for she cursed in her native tongue most of the time) both he and the Seer followed close behind.
"Stop. Mocking. Me." He finally managed to squeeze out a few words through his gritted teeth.
"Oh?" she hissed right back "So, if Mr. Valen steps into a trap that a goblin with a cataract could see is there, it's my fault, right?
How he managed to keep his rage in check was a mystery, even to him.
"Well, miss 'See-it-all' ", he growled "If I'm so incompetent, why in the Nine Hells do you drag me along then?"
"You fight good." she responded casually and then winced as she probed her left shoulder with her right hand as if to underline what she just said. "And big as you are, you're bound to be noticed by anyone or anything miles around … which gives me a perfect opportunity to do my work while you take the beating."
That bloody bitch! Logical as her words were, they still reminded him too much of the attitude of his old master. In one quick stride he was beside her, glaring dangerously.
"Now you listen to me, you …" His hiss was thick with rage.
"It's broken." She said flatly, cutting him in the mid-sentence, her gaze locked on the corridor that led to the throne room.
"What?" His puzzlement was complete.
"Sabal and her merry crew are waiting for us in that throne room…" her gaze slowly met his, her eyes strangely calm, "… and you just broke my shoulder." she finished.
His eyes went wide.
"..." He said.
"-" He tried again.
"-.-.-" He gave up.
Damn, damn, damn! He and his blasted temper! (What temper, Valen?) … But she was the one who started it! She and her mocking and taunting and … Still, he should've controlled himself. He was, after all, at least twice her size and about three times heavier, his flail the size of her whole arm and then some. Skilled as she was, she was still nowhere near his equal in combat and … Next realization struck him like a dire hammer. Had her reflexes been just a split second slower, he would've killed her with that first single blow!
"I …" he begun … Am sorry? No. That would sound stupid. Besides, was he really? He didn't trust her that's for sure, and she herself kept pointing out one way or another that she neither wanted nor deserved anyone's trust. Still, was that a reason to want her dead? To nearly kill her himself? Unable to come up with an answer to his own question, eventually he just grumbled:
"Surely that vampire sword of yours can take care of it."
He noticed a sudden glint in her eyes, but it was gone an instant later so he wasn't sure what to make of it. He also noticed however, that her grip on the sword slightly tightened.
"Oh?" she cocked her head. "And whose life …" her eyes slowly circled the corpse-filled room "… do you suggest I take to heal myself?" she asked, her eyes finishing the circle and resting on him once again.
Now it was he who gripped the weapon more firmly. She had a point there, and he just happened to be the only other creature alive in that room … Damn his big tongue.
His leg muscles tightened, his tail moving like that of a great cat about to leap. Though he did feel a slight pang of guilt accompanied by a brief image of the Seer, better part of him actually welcomed the fight that was, he was certain, about to begin any second. She was not his match in combat. True, she could leap in and out of the shadows at will and strike her crippling blows from there, six dead drow in the room served as a sobering reminder of that, but she was also wounded - much worse than he was. He was confident he could withstand a couple of her blows. All he needed was one. One strike alone, and the half-elf's no more. The thought brought an eager gleam into his eyes. So be it then, he thought to himself. All the better in fact. That woman was dangerous and neither he nor the Seer needed more enemies beside the Valsharess. An image of that blood-red blade plunging from the shadows through the Seer's heart flashed brightly in his mind. His rage renewed, he readied himself to attack.
"Sorry, " her taunting voice stopped him, "but it doesn't work that way … Unfortunately." Her lips were curved in a small smirk, but her eyes remained cold.
"A pity." He countered, his sarcasm matching her own.
For a long moment they stared at each other in silence. Then, she tossed him the pouch with the mirror shards, nodding towards the door.
"Better that they think I'm dead." She answered his unspoken question.
"And once I'm inside, you shall …" he left it hanging, his voice dripping with hatred and mistrust.
"… make the sisters in there really red." she purred, blending once more into the shadows.
Somehow she managed to do it so that the last thing to be seen of her was her wicked grin. Neat. She must have spent a long time practicing that … Or not. … Whatever. Sabal was a priority target here, he reminded himself. The half-elf will have to wait.
"Next time, Shi'van", he thought to himself, "Next time."
Taking another deep breath to steady himself, Valen moved towards the door. His footsteps were marked by the quiet grumble from the shadows making some far-from-complimentary remarks about a certain "goat-horned blood-thirsty trap-triggering shoulder-breaking flail-wielding brute".
He heard the movements behind him as a certain shadowy figure amused herself by looting the corpses. He pointedly kept his gaze on the fool, studying his movements as he went about the mirror-repairing business.
"This will take a while" the fool said without turning to face him. "Maybe you should go to the queen's cave, for once this mirror is fixed …" he paused for just a moment, " … I shall be of little use."
Valen stared at him in silence. Fixing this mirror will save the fool's people, but at what cost? Once it was done he will turn into a fool once again and then he likely won't even remember any of this. But now, right now, he was fully aware of everything, fully aware of what he was about to lose. And yet, his movements were swift and efficient, his features calm, not a hint of regret evident on his face … if there even was any. Valen had to admire the small avariel. Such devotion, he thought. As great as was his own to the Seer. Or at least he hoped so. How far would he go for her? How much would he be willing to sacrifice?
A shuffle from behind snapped him back from his contemplations and brought back the scowl on his face. Well, there was one whose answer to that question he was certain of. Downright nothing! Blast it all, it took the Seer fully two days to get her to at least stay, and a ridiculously huge amount of gold to get her to help them. Waste of money, he told her, but she kept insisting that this one and no other is their salvation and that they had to secure her help, no matter the price. My ass they had to! All that gold got them was a completely unreliable and uninterested mercenary whose loyalty, even to money, was as solid as a slime jelly on a hot day.
Clenching his fists, he walked out of the throne room never even looking her way, and headed to the queen's cave.
