a good day anyway
Mar. 14th, 2026 09:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katarikOver in the Northeast for memorial and, while I took a nap instead of going to the aquarium, I was able to go to two lovely shops (confectionery that sold me ANISE PASTILLES!!! and gave me several samples of things and a market that gave me MAPLE SOFT SERVE with MAPLE SPRINKLES ON IT) with jadelennox and then went over to hers to have delicious Indian food and talk about books and food and Tasting History aaaaaand I maybe also infodumped about Care Bears II aka Faustian bargains in the woods with ten-year-olds, but! I did not infodump about Transformers (and specifically My Beloved Skyfire), I had restraint! Some restraint!
I did get to tell her about CrossingsCon.
jadelennox and then went over to hers to have delicious Indian food and talk about books and food and Tasting History aaaaaand I maybe also infodumped about Care Bears II aka Faustian bargains in the woods with ten-year-olds, but! I did not infodump about Transformers (and specifically My Beloved Skyfire), I had restraint! Some restraint!I did get to tell her about CrossingsCon.
10trueloves: accident
Mar. 14th, 2026 10:07 pmsenmutAO3 Link | Sound of Crashing (300 words) by Merfilly
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: DC Comics (General)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Lian Harper & Dinah Lance
Characters: Dinah Lance, Lian Harper
Additional Tags: Triple Drabble, Slice of Life, +Modern Age (1986-Present), Post-Crisis
Summary:
The moment she heard the crash, Dinah was on her feet and moving, uncaring what had been broken as long as it wasn't that little girl who had stolen her heart. She skidded into the kitchen before Lian had made her escape from the counter, the drawers askew to let Dinah know how the girl had gotten up there on it. She was beside the refrigerator, from which the ceramic cookie jar in the shape of a coyote had tumbled to the floor.
The cookie jar was not salvageable. Lian's face was a picture of contriteness, and Dinah just moved to get her down.
"You sit on right here, Dart," Dinah said, depositing her on the kitchen table which was at least lower than the counter. "Until I get the pieces swept up, the floor is lava and you don't have firefighter boots!"
"Didn't mean to break Mąʼii."
"I know, sweetie. And you did a lot of problem solving to figure out how to get it while I was on the phone. But next time, you should ask, and I can help." Dinah found the broom and a bucket, picking up the larger pieces before sweeping up the rest of the debris. She's need to get a box or a large jug to put the shards in, but for now, she just wanted it off the floor.
"Okay, so I need to find a new cookie jar, and we're going to need new cookies," Dinah said. "Ready to go shopping?"
"Yes!"
Dinah reached for the girl, picking her up and settling her on a hip, even if Lian was a little big for that, especially for her shortness. She hugged Lian tight, glad nothing had been hurt on her.
"You do have to tell your daddy you're sorry."
"Will do!"
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: DC Comics (General)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Lian Harper & Dinah Lance
Characters: Dinah Lance, Lian Harper
Additional Tags: Triple Drabble, Slice of Life, +Modern Age (1986-Present), Post-Crisis
Summary:
Dinah is babysitting...
Sound of Crashing
The moment she heard the crash, Dinah was on her feet and moving, uncaring what had been broken as long as it wasn't that little girl who had stolen her heart. She skidded into the kitchen before Lian had made her escape from the counter, the drawers askew to let Dinah know how the girl had gotten up there on it. She was beside the refrigerator, from which the ceramic cookie jar in the shape of a coyote had tumbled to the floor.
The cookie jar was not salvageable. Lian's face was a picture of contriteness, and Dinah just moved to get her down.
"You sit on right here, Dart," Dinah said, depositing her on the kitchen table which was at least lower than the counter. "Until I get the pieces swept up, the floor is lava and you don't have firefighter boots!"
"Didn't mean to break Mąʼii."
"I know, sweetie. And you did a lot of problem solving to figure out how to get it while I was on the phone. But next time, you should ask, and I can help." Dinah found the broom and a bucket, picking up the larger pieces before sweeping up the rest of the debris. She's need to get a box or a large jug to put the shards in, but for now, she just wanted it off the floor.
"Okay, so I need to find a new cookie jar, and we're going to need new cookies," Dinah said. "Ready to go shopping?"
"Yes!"
Dinah reached for the girl, picking her up and settling her on a hip, even if Lian was a little big for that, especially for her shortness. She hugged Lian tight, glad nothing had been hurt on her.
"You do have to tell your daddy you're sorry."
"Will do!"
Thoughts in my head.
Mar. 14th, 2026 07:56 pmhannah
In the continuing adventures of revisiting grad school food, tonight's dinner was egg fried rice made from leftover congee and some stuff I had in the fridge and the freezer. I hadn't realized how much I'd been craving sodium and salt until I took a whiff of the soy sauce. I've been drinking tea and water, and even some electrolyte mixes, but nothing quite that satisfying. So the soy sauce helped considerably.
Most of the day's energy went towards returning some library books. Beyond that, it's slow, it's sluggish. Slugging along, even. Every so often, my ears clear for a few moments and the relief is blissful. There's a mix of not having much energy and not having much to do that's contributing to a sense of inertia, which I'm not sure I can be bothered to mind too much about at the moment.
Most of the day's energy went towards returning some library books. Beyond that, it's slow, it's sluggish. Slugging along, even. Every so often, my ears clear for a few moments and the relief is blissful. There's a mix of not having much energy and not having much to do that's contributing to a sense of inertia, which I'm not sure I can be bothered to mind too much about at the moment.
Wardrobe.
Mar. 13th, 2026 10:10 pmhannah
The other day, I ripped a hole in the armpit of a Threadless t-shirt. This is only notable because I checked and I'd gotten that shirt almost 16 years ago. It's gotten some wear and tear over the years, especially in the seams for the sleeves, and I don't know if this specific rip is repairable or not. I don't want to throw it out - it's still a good "lounging around the apartment" shirt - but what I'm tempted to do is to buy a new one as close as I can get, and see how the materials are different. Aside from the nearly 16 years of wear and wash, that is.
They're having a sale, too. Inflation means it won't come out close to the same price, even taking that into account, but it'd make for a decent excuse. I've collected enough t-shirts since college that I can go at least two months without repeating one, easily. Three, if I decide to wear the ones I got as podcast promotions as part of the regular rotation instead of being "travel" shirts. It's not something where I've sat down and counted, or even sorted through. I've just collected and worn them. And, frankly, I don't see much reason to stop. As has been said, at least it beats heroin.
They're having a sale, too. Inflation means it won't come out close to the same price, even taking that into account, but it'd make for a decent excuse. I've collected enough t-shirts since college that I can go at least two months without repeating one, easily. Three, if I decide to wear the ones I got as podcast promotions as part of the regular rotation instead of being "travel" shirts. It's not something where I've sat down and counted, or even sorted through. I've just collected and worn them. And, frankly, I don't see much reason to stop. As has been said, at least it beats heroin.
Thursday night.
Mar. 12th, 2026 10:11 pmhannah
A dash of snow came down around two thirty and again around six. Not enough to stick around, but enough to notice it wasn't rain. It was one of the more exciting moments of a day brought low by a cold. The ENT doctor yesterday and two rapid tests this morning are decent enough confirmation I can accept that's all it is, which is as cold a comfort as I can get these days.
I can't remember when I bought them, but the tonics I got from the herb farm at the farmer's market seem to be doing a better job of calming my throat down than anything else I've tried. As that's all I want them for, I'll stick with what seems to be working. Anything for a good night's sleep. There's only so many pots of tea you can drink in a day.
I can't remember when I bought them, but the tonics I got from the herb farm at the farmer's market seem to be doing a better job of calming my throat down than anything else I've tried. As that's all I want them for, I'll stick with what seems to be working. Anything for a good night's sleep. There's only so many pots of tea you can drink in a day.
40.
Mar. 11th, 2026 08:48 pmhannah
Despite bad sleep last night, I got up and got going this morning. I ran just over 2.3 miles in 30 minutes as a new personal record, and took the stairs up to the gym also. I visited an ear-nose-throat specialist and was told I don't need to panic, and hearing it from a professional makes that a good deal easier. I went to a coffee shop on Madison Avenue that was fancy by Madison Avenue standards, got a vanilla latte and a glass of orange juice that were unfortunately both worth the high price tag, wrote some in my notebook, deliberately overtipped, and rode a bike back through Central Park.
I cooked monster sauce for the first time in a long time - so called because it's doctored up out of spare parts. A can of this, half a can of that. Some of this, more of that. It's always tomato based and it's about the only thing I make entirely on vibes. I ate it a lot in grad school, but haven't for years. The timing seemed right to do it tonight.
I did some editing and managed to get my stuff together enough to send out a query letter. I'm gearing up to wait for the rejection while also reminding myself any submission is a good one to stay in practice for the task.
I've gotten lovely notes and great cards, and all that would make it a good birthday. But all that could have gone aside and it'd still be a wonderful birthday. Because some weeks ago, I preordered an album and it arrived today. An album I'd waited weeks for, and months, and an album I could say I waited years for without knowing it. Because for well over a decade, I'd specify the difference between my favorite band presently making music and my favorite band no longer making music. And now I can't make that distinction quite so easily anymore.
Because after 19 years, Voxtrot released their second album.
19 years ago, I was in college. I was looking out towards the Pacific Ocean, drinking a jack and coke because that's what I'd been able to get the courage to buy for myself. I hadn't written any novels, or any fics of substantial length, either. I'd barely learned how to finish what I'd started.
19 years ago, I'd only seen the world end once.
This isn't an album the band could've made back then. They didn't have the broader maturity or experience on display here. It's still Voxtrot, beautifully so, and it's as rich and tasty and filling as ever. I don't know how I'd have taken it if they'd released it 17 years ago, 15, 10. Nineteen years. I've traveled the world and seen it end and seen it come back. I've said goodbye to people without knowing it was the last time, and welcomed more into my life. I've gone dancing and singing and been kissed a few times. There's things I'd change about the last 19 years, and few of them are about my life and what I've been doing.
It took Voxtrot 19 years to make another finely cut gem of an album that I think is better than their first.
I hope it doesn't take them another 19 years.
I cooked monster sauce for the first time in a long time - so called because it's doctored up out of spare parts. A can of this, half a can of that. Some of this, more of that. It's always tomato based and it's about the only thing I make entirely on vibes. I ate it a lot in grad school, but haven't for years. The timing seemed right to do it tonight.
I did some editing and managed to get my stuff together enough to send out a query letter. I'm gearing up to wait for the rejection while also reminding myself any submission is a good one to stay in practice for the task.
I've gotten lovely notes and great cards, and all that would make it a good birthday. But all that could have gone aside and it'd still be a wonderful birthday. Because some weeks ago, I preordered an album and it arrived today. An album I'd waited weeks for, and months, and an album I could say I waited years for without knowing it. Because for well over a decade, I'd specify the difference between my favorite band presently making music and my favorite band no longer making music. And now I can't make that distinction quite so easily anymore.
Because after 19 years, Voxtrot released their second album.
19 years ago, I was in college. I was looking out towards the Pacific Ocean, drinking a jack and coke because that's what I'd been able to get the courage to buy for myself. I hadn't written any novels, or any fics of substantial length, either. I'd barely learned how to finish what I'd started.
19 years ago, I'd only seen the world end once.
This isn't an album the band could've made back then. They didn't have the broader maturity or experience on display here. It's still Voxtrot, beautifully so, and it's as rich and tasty and filling as ever. I don't know how I'd have taken it if they'd released it 17 years ago, 15, 10. Nineteen years. I've traveled the world and seen it end and seen it come back. I've said goodbye to people without knowing it was the last time, and welcomed more into my life. I've gone dancing and singing and been kissed a few times. There's things I'd change about the last 19 years, and few of them are about my life and what I've been doing.
It took Voxtrot 19 years to make another finely cut gem of an album that I think is better than their first.
I hope it doesn't take them another 19 years.
Couldn't've liked it more.
Mar. 10th, 2026 09:24 pmhannah
I got invited to my dad's book group meeting tonight in the capacity of caterer. I brought the cake and I helped the host's wife in the kitchen, where she and I ate while the book group sat around the larger table in the dining room. There's no hard feelings - they're friends that wanted to see each other, and I liked catching up with her. We talked about daytime talk shows, MASH and its laugh track, women by themselves, bad books recently read, and a little bit of poetry. She said that the skin on my chest - the dress I wore was modestly low cut and still well below my neck - was an amazing white, pale, smooth, like something in an old poem about describing beautiful women.
She also suggested I'd be good as a special education teacher, and when I said I didn't have the patience for more than one kid, she said I could do one-on-one. I know how hard that work is, and found it deeply touching she thinks so highly of me. It's not something I think I'll actively pursue, and it's still quite touching.
Everyone loved the cake I brought. Two people asked for slices to take home and share, one person asked for a second slice to eat right there, and two more asked for slices for their breakfasts. I was told it was sublime and that I outdid myself; I replied that next time I'd simply have to do myself, which got a chuckle. One of the other members drove there instead of walking or using public transit, so my dad and I got a lift back to our place. A gentle end to a nice night.
She also suggested I'd be good as a special education teacher, and when I said I didn't have the patience for more than one kid, she said I could do one-on-one. I know how hard that work is, and found it deeply touching she thinks so highly of me. It's not something I think I'll actively pursue, and it's still quite touching.
Everyone loved the cake I brought. Two people asked for slices to take home and share, one person asked for a second slice to eat right there, and two more asked for slices for their breakfasts. I was told it was sublime and that I outdid myself; I replied that next time I'd simply have to do myself, which got a chuckle. One of the other members drove there instead of walking or using public transit, so my dad and I got a lift back to our place. A gentle end to a nice night.
Divining Destiny: Chapters 4 and 5
Mar. 9th, 2026 07:28 pmsenmutAO3 Link | Divining Destiny (11814 words) by Merfilly
Chapters: 5/5
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Characters: Vierna Do'Urden, Zaknafein Do'Urden, Drizzt Do'Urden, Ensemble
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Typical Violence, Fratricide, Murder, flashfic, Cross-Posted from Archive Of Our Own (AO3), Time Travel
Summary:
Eilistraee rested in the meadow, laying on Her back, listening to the night and Her sparring partner as he got his own breathing back under control. She almost wished to keep him here, to have his company where it was safer for Her to exist, but he was mortal, and deserved a chance to truly live free.
"Father manipulated time in setting you back to save the Lore Keeper," She admitted, once She was cooler and he seemed calm.
"I decided that had to have happened given His surety in the circumstances. I know it is one avenue of magic, considered among the riskiest."
"It's only a few decades, but time has to resettle… and I mean to offer you a chance to be part of that resettling, Drizzt." Eilistraee let Her fingertips touch his. "Like it or not, when She touched your life string at birth, with My Brother touching your sister's so young, it has put you closer to Destiny than many mortals can bear.
"Would you like to use that to protect other drow like you, to be there for My Chosen as a protector?"
Drizzt considered, letting the night sounds take over around them, and then turned his head to look at Her. "I would be with ones like me, to keep learning, and helping them survive in a world that fears and hates us?
"I can do this, as it will let me continue forming as who I wish to be in something closer to safety rather than wandering with only Guen."
"And possibly Szann from time to time," She said, eyes dancing with the mirth of how besotted the cath sidhe was with Her young friend. He did not pray to her; he prayed to none, so far. But She continued to hope that in time he would be willing to ask boons of Her, to further his ability to help others.
"I think I can handle having visits from a fey cat," he agreed to that, smiling brightly. "Yes, Eilistraee. Choose the point for me, and let me go be of aid to others. I have seen enough here to believe that You do truly mean nothing but aid to those like me."
Despite that most of Her fellow deities would be stung by the continued doubting and measuring against a mortal's — a child at best! — ideas of right and wrong, Eilistraee was touched by being allowed that much belief from him.
"I have those calling to Me," She said as She reluctantly stood. "But I will see to it soon, Drizzt. Enjoy the night."
"I shall."
The small group of drow that traveled at present with Qilué Veladorn were some of her most adept, fiercest priestesses and fighters. An impression of being watched ghosted over their senses for several nights, but in a world that would rather see them dead, that was not so unusual.
What was, just after the sun had cleared the horizon and they were considering rest, was the appearance of a lone drow male.
Inside their sentry line.
That he was not close enough to harm a single person was the only saving grace in their eyes, as a full alert went through all of them.
"Peace," the lone male said, using the variant of that word they had made for themselves in their language that knew it not at all. "I seek the First Sister, to offer my arms and service for a time."
"What makes you think you have the right?"
"I claim no right," he said back to the one who had spoken, one of the priestesses. "But I have skills I am willing to offer… and showed by evading your sentries. I have a willingness to learn more, as I have only learned the elven language, and I am told there is one called 'Common' I should know.
"Most of all, I wish to learn the surface as it calls to me in my heart, as the Dark Maiden calls to you."
"Is he touched by madness?" one of the fighters asked then, before the First Sister rose from her pallet, towering over all of those with her, and came forward.
"No. He is touched by our Lady Herself… and another?" As she spoke, she approached the male with no fear.
He inclined his head slightly to her. "A deal was made to remove me from the Underdark, between She and Her Twin. In divining why neither of Them could truly perceive me, She invited Her Father to look into matters.
"So I no doubt bear at least some of His touch, given my armor, pack, and weapons were gifts from Him to perform a task with."
"Truth," the first cleric said, both grudgingly and with some trepidation. Even though the First Sister regularly dealt with Eilistraee, and some human goddess, none of them knew of one who had been touched by an elven god not their Lady.
"So I know," the First Sister said, smiling as she came close enough to offer her hands in greeting. "You have given my Lady joy; welcome, cousin."
"Drizzt Do'Urden." He gave her his hands, squeezing hers without fear.
"Qilué Veladorn. I look forward to seeing your dance, and my hunters will aid you in learning the surface as it is here in the Material Plane."
"I am glad to be able to give aid for a good cause," he assured her, before walking with her into the camp to meet those present in this band.
Elkantar cheered young Rylla on from where he was sprawled on the ground. The half-human was possibly the only one of the fighters that would, someday, match their new fighter in any way. He rolled to his butt, keeping eyes on this grand melee… and the one that had become the center of it all.
Drizzt Do'Urden was an enigma. He'd spent an unknown amount of time in the Dark Maiden's realm, personally handled a quest for Corellon, been shrouded by Lolth Herself at his birth, and been raised by a priestess of Vhaeraun.
None of those deities held the fighter's heart, and Elkantar had been surprised to learn his escape from the Underdark had come before he even turned thirty-one years of age, making his skill simply impossible. That he embraced these free-for-all skill contests, or the one-on-one spars with a true smile of joy never stopped pulling Elkantar's heart strings.
Every other fighter in their band had already lost their weapons or been tripped out of the designated area. Elkantar slowly recognized that Drizzt had worked to insure Rylla was the last fighter, handling the few fighters — like Elkantar himself — that had the experience and skill needed to put her out of it.
"Too much anger," he heard Drizzt say, when the double scimitars trapped the short sword, pulling it out of Rylla's grasp. She refocused her stance a moment, then took the step back, and saluted with her dagger across her chest to surrender.
"How can I not be angry?" she retorted.
"By remembering that holding your anger at the people behind you? Still gives them power."
Those calm, quiet words held empathy and knowing alike… and were just what Rylla needed to hear, to help move one more step forward on her own path of healing.
"Make me better," Rylla said, half a demand, half a plea.
"I will give you every bit of training my father gave me… though maybe with fewer unexpected naps."
Corellon considered the actions of His Daughter, and ultimately decided He was amused. He had, after all, opened the door with His own manipulation. Giving the Chosen a man who had the technique, if not the experience, to increase her people's ability to carve out a space for themselves even earlier could only be a good foil against the drow of both Lolth and Vhaeraun.
He tried to see ahead, to make out the possibilities more clearly… and found the mists of time past the point when Drizzt had originally been taken from the Underdark still opaque.
"At least none of Us should be bored for a time," He mused, going back to listen to His own followers for a time. His Lore Keeper was being a force of nature in his own way, keeping new ideas fresh alongside the ancient ways. It might prove interesting, when the drow struck out on his own, to see about a meeting for them…
Dinin had proven to have a good hand for how to keep their outpost incognito, on top of the politics of the moment, and out of strife with either Vhaeraunite faction. It helped that both of those groups wanted to end each other's influence, but were constrained by some strange religious tenet from just killing one another.
At least openly, as Dinin learned when a priest was murdered in the night market, supposedly by ruffians.
What he did not appreciate was having to be schooled by Jarlaxle's people on a third drow vector, a bunch of idiots that thought peace and living in harmony was the better way of life. He decided they could be ignored as they only came once a quarter to trade —
— until he heard that a band of six drow from the mercantile company faction had been sent running with minor injuries… and none of their weapons.
"I thought they weren't a threat," Dinin muttered.
Karolz shook his head, a much older fighter, one that had been recruited in this city long before. He hated leading, didn't have a head for it, but had accepted Dinin in that role.
"Those Dancers usually avoid a fight. But once every hand of years or so, some braggart decides to test either their Sword Mistress, or Purple Eyes. And this time, it's Purple Eyes with the caravan."
Purple Eyes. Dinin made a gesture against ill-luck, still remembering the one time he'd seen his younger brother in a true temper. He had no idea what had happened to Drizzt, only that whatever it had been had not broken the peace between Zaknafein and Vierna. Dinin knew that meant Drizzt had not been killed; he wasn't as stupid as some people thought he was, and Zak had been odd about the boy.
"Make sure none of ours pick a fight, or cross paths with the mercantiles, hmm? They're going to be more apt to rise to the bait for this."
That got a chuckle and nod… before Karolz watched Dinin secure his cloak over his armor and head out to see for himself.
Dinin found the Dancers easily enough, and decided they looked very tame. He didn't see anyone that really looked like they could give him trouble in a fight, but he also didn't see anyone with purple eyes. Maybe Karolz was wrong and one of the women wearing a sword was this so-called Sword Mistress.
He decided it had been a waste of time to come down and see, turned down a different path to begin his way back —
— and then he did see purple, a moment before he saw all of his brother. The small signs of maturity were settled in around the eyes and ears, while Drizzt stood straight with those curved swords of his still in their scabbards. Fine mithral chain glinted under the over tunic, and a metal face-guard held the mane of hair back, in the same fashion Zaknafein wore his.
"Hello, brother," Drizzt said, actually quirking a half-smile on his lips. "I never expected to see you this far from the city."
"Umm, you… Abyss, I never thought to see you again at all!" Dinin said. "I don't want a fight; I came to see if the rumor of Purple Eyes had anything to do with you, yes, but… I really am just evaluating the threats to my own situation."
Drizzt laughed. "You must be the new one watching Bregan D'Aerthe, then. I'd heard there were several new people since my last visit here." He must have read the confusion in Dinin's face, because he shrugged. "I got caught up in time magic. I've lived in the area above for a few decades now.
"Will you tell me of our sister, and the Weapon Master?"
Dinin nodded. "Trust me enough to come back to the warehouse we keep? Or should we take a meal at the Dimmed Lantern?"
"I won't go so far as to say trust," Drizzt said slyly, "but I prefer to be out of the public eye to discuss this, and I am well known at the Dimmed Lantern."
"Does everyone call you Purple Eyes?"
"Mostly," Drizzt agreed. He fell in step with Dinin, and Dinin noted his brother already knew the path. What had his experiences been that Drizzt actually seemed cognizant of power structures? Did he really want to know?
Ultimately, Dinin decided he did not.
Drizzt relaxed in the deep tub across from the one Laeral Silverhand was in. As the Silverhand that most paid attention to the treacheries in Skullport, Drizzt had come to her to talk about what he had learned this time. Their friendship went back almost to the beginning of his time above with Qilué, as the sisters were very close.
"So my elder brother manages the in-theory Lolthite faction over there. Honestly, the mercenary company he belongs to worships chaos, money, and power, I believe, from what I have seen of them in the past. Through him, I know that our House in Menzoberranzan fell within the last few years.
"But, through his own sources, he knows that my father and sister have established themselves in a a place called Rilauven."
"As best I can remember, that is a minor city somewhere under the Neverwinter," Laeral offered, lounging as nonchalantly as her friend. Dual tubs were almost as good as a large bathing pool.
"I planned to see what the Marauders could tell me of it," Drizzt said, his voice having that note of seeking adventure.
"Planning to go see for yourself? I remind you that your nature is antithetical in all ways to what you would find."
Drizzt chuckled. "I can charm a lizard or a bat to carry a note inside, if I choose to go that way. And your amulet very nicely masks me, when I choose to wear it."
Laeral looked over. "You miss your father, even your sister, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Then I will just say, 'be careful', and I will definitely reach out and knock on your skull in half a year, to be sure you are breathing. If not, the Marauders will be hired to find your body so Qi can bring you back to us."
He shook his head at her, but he had no intention of dying. He just needed to know if his sister was as aware as he was, of the threads of destiny they had unknowingly wrapped themselves in.
Vierna was not unaccustomed to bats bringing her messages. What she was unaccustomed to, was not feeling the touch of her Lord's spellwork on them, instead brushing something unknown when she tried to determine who the sender had been. She also did not see any message to take from it. When she focused fully on it, the bat fluttered just out of reach and roosted.
"If you or father would come, I am awaiting outside the gate your people use to go Above for trade."
The bat, having spoken with her brother's voice, did a small shake of itself and fluttered back out of Vierna's very surprised presence.
Needing to have time to wrap her head around that, the ability to blank her emotions, she sent her messenger spider to her father. The pirate spiders she had brought with her were thriving, especially as they killed any other spiders that dared cross the wards, protecting them from Lolthite spies.
Several minutes later, Zak strode in, an eyebrow raised. "Sometimes I worry your spiders fetching me could be omens, daughter."
She laughed, a little bit more brittle than she meant to. "Something odd, but not… bad? Maybe?
"A bat came and delivered a spoken message in Drizzt's voice, saying he was outside the trade gate to the Surface, asking if one of us would come meet with him. The magic on the bat was unlike any I have felt, and the accent was correct."
Zak frowned, then considered a long moment. "Are you still unable — yes, you are. Of course you already tried to reach him that way." He hitched a shoulder. "I suppose I am taking a walk. Put the undead into defensive positions, just in case."
"Of course, Father. If it is… and he will come… please bring him in. I can explain it as an intelligence seeking."
That got a laugh, but Zak nodded. "If that boy knows anything of use, I will be shocked."
Zak moved out of the gate uncontested, as he was known to sometimes forage for his daughter's wild needs. In the years since arriving here, they had made a solid reputation as fair but powerful. The only true trouble they'd had was from Lolthites seeking to undo the Masked Traitor's prominence, but Vierna remained high in the favor of her Lord.
Once he cleared the perimeter of the city's awareness, he knew he was not alone, and had to look sharply… before his son melted out of a shadow.
"Hello, Father," Drizzt called, breaking into a genuine smile. Even as jaded as Zak was, everything matched… except the age. This man was too mature to his eyes, and he remained poised, ready to engage the trap so his daughter stayed safe.
"Hmm, not so certain of that."
Drizzt threw his head back and laughed, before spreading his hands wide from his body. "Blame your daughter, then, as she put me in the hands of a goddess and set me on a strange path that had time magic in it."
Zak let an eyebrow rise at those words.
"Would a fetch know you nearly killed me rather than let me go become a drow in all truth? Or that you broke my jaw to keep me from exposing both of us to the Matron? Or that I almost caused your death the very night Vierna became Matron?"
"It might… but I think I might believe you." Zak beckoned. "Your sister wishes to see you as well, peacefully. The city is not a closed one, and if you're still so strange, she'll shove it off as getting what you know of other places."
"Oh, I am strange, even to those that agree with my views on life," Drizzt said, still smiling so openly, and Zak reached out as he came close, gripping his shoulders.
"I am glad you stayed strange, and alive!"
Drizzt leaned in, resting his forehead on his father's. "Vierna saved me by doing as she did, and now I wish to repay that, with a warning and words of my life."
"Then let us go into the city, my son, and hear what you have to say."
Vierna hugged her little brother fiercely, taking in all the changes as Zak had done. He was dressed sensibly in a piwafwi of fair construction, had adamantine blades in plain scabbards, and everything had the right feel of the Underdark.
"You cannot possibly have been in the Underdark since I set you in safety!" she pointed out.
"No, but we keep such things for movement below the faerzress," Drizzt said. "As I do aid sometimes, I had everything I needed in one of our caches.
"When Dinin told me where you two had gone, I retrieved them for my journey. One that is formerly of House Vaer here aided me in swift travel," he added.
"Dinin's in Skullport, last I knew," Zak said.
"He is, and thriving," Drizzt agreed. "We have an understanding, as I have no wish to be involved heavily in drow things."
"You mentioned a warning," Zak prodded, once they were all comfortable.
Drizzt sobered up and looked at Vierna. "Do you have any idea how tangled in divine events we now are, sister? The choice you made, to save me, prodded the Twins toward aid for one another, when He was attacked. I have been given quests by Her and by others of the pantheon in my time-tossed decades."
She slowly frowned, but his words rang true against some of the dreams that had come since she settled here.
"I can see the shape of that now that you say it," she admitted. "Your thoughts?"
"Something lies ahead. Neither of my patron deities know what, but more and more, I am drawn to larger threats, sharpening all of my skills and the magic I touch as a kind of divine-touched fighter."
Vierna had to rake her eyes over him at that claim, but… she did not know all things of the surface yet.
"Both of my children using divine magic now. There's a strangeness," Zak said in a slow drawl.
That made them all laugh.
"I suppose, little brother, I am going to ask you to stay long enough to get sending stones for you and father to carry, and work out a timing for us to keep in touch," Vierna said. "So we can at least warn one another of things that come to pass."
"I am already looking forward to the spars," Drizzt said, agreeing easily. "Just tell me how to not make trouble here, and I will be a good guest.
"I've kept an open mind toward your god, even if I question some of His idiot followers' ways."
"Well, some of them are idiots, but I think that is true of all religions," Vierna agreed, pleased.
Vhaeraun smiled in His own realm. Allies, when the coming storm arrived, were not to be dismissed out of hand. And, if the siblings forged a bond across alignment, then perhaps…
… well, He knew He was still deeply fond of His own Twin. Perhaps in time, He might yet convince Her to see His way of thinking.
He would keep His defenses up, and all of His craft tuned to the danger ahead for all of the gods.
Chapters: 5/5
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Characters: Vierna Do'Urden, Zaknafein Do'Urden, Drizzt Do'Urden, Ensemble
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Typical Violence, Fratricide, Murder, flashfic, Cross-Posted from Archive Of Our Own (AO3), Time Travel
Summary:
Thwarted in escaping with the two males she cares for at Graduation, Vierna sets her goals differently.
Only, Drizzt sets things in motion the wrong way.
Chapter 4: Drizzt's Chosen Path
Eilistraee rested in the meadow, laying on Her back, listening to the night and Her sparring partner as he got his own breathing back under control. She almost wished to keep him here, to have his company where it was safer for Her to exist, but he was mortal, and deserved a chance to truly live free.
"Father manipulated time in setting you back to save the Lore Keeper," She admitted, once She was cooler and he seemed calm.
"I decided that had to have happened given His surety in the circumstances. I know it is one avenue of magic, considered among the riskiest."
"It's only a few decades, but time has to resettle… and I mean to offer you a chance to be part of that resettling, Drizzt." Eilistraee let Her fingertips touch his. "Like it or not, when She touched your life string at birth, with My Brother touching your sister's so young, it has put you closer to Destiny than many mortals can bear.
"Would you like to use that to protect other drow like you, to be there for My Chosen as a protector?"
Drizzt considered, letting the night sounds take over around them, and then turned his head to look at Her. "I would be with ones like me, to keep learning, and helping them survive in a world that fears and hates us?
"I can do this, as it will let me continue forming as who I wish to be in something closer to safety rather than wandering with only Guen."
"And possibly Szann from time to time," She said, eyes dancing with the mirth of how besotted the cath sidhe was with Her young friend. He did not pray to her; he prayed to none, so far. But She continued to hope that in time he would be willing to ask boons of Her, to further his ability to help others.
"I think I can handle having visits from a fey cat," he agreed to that, smiling brightly. "Yes, Eilistraee. Choose the point for me, and let me go be of aid to others. I have seen enough here to believe that You do truly mean nothing but aid to those like me."
Despite that most of Her fellow deities would be stung by the continued doubting and measuring against a mortal's — a child at best! — ideas of right and wrong, Eilistraee was touched by being allowed that much belief from him.
"I have those calling to Me," She said as She reluctantly stood. "But I will see to it soon, Drizzt. Enjoy the night."
"I shall."
The small group of drow that traveled at present with Qilué Veladorn were some of her most adept, fiercest priestesses and fighters. An impression of being watched ghosted over their senses for several nights, but in a world that would rather see them dead, that was not so unusual.
What was, just after the sun had cleared the horizon and they were considering rest, was the appearance of a lone drow male.
Inside their sentry line.
That he was not close enough to harm a single person was the only saving grace in their eyes, as a full alert went through all of them.
"Peace," the lone male said, using the variant of that word they had made for themselves in their language that knew it not at all. "I seek the First Sister, to offer my arms and service for a time."
"What makes you think you have the right?"
"I claim no right," he said back to the one who had spoken, one of the priestesses. "But I have skills I am willing to offer… and showed by evading your sentries. I have a willingness to learn more, as I have only learned the elven language, and I am told there is one called 'Common' I should know.
"Most of all, I wish to learn the surface as it calls to me in my heart, as the Dark Maiden calls to you."
"Is he touched by madness?" one of the fighters asked then, before the First Sister rose from her pallet, towering over all of those with her, and came forward.
"No. He is touched by our Lady Herself… and another?" As she spoke, she approached the male with no fear.
He inclined his head slightly to her. "A deal was made to remove me from the Underdark, between She and Her Twin. In divining why neither of Them could truly perceive me, She invited Her Father to look into matters.
"So I no doubt bear at least some of His touch, given my armor, pack, and weapons were gifts from Him to perform a task with."
"Truth," the first cleric said, both grudgingly and with some trepidation. Even though the First Sister regularly dealt with Eilistraee, and some human goddess, none of them knew of one who had been touched by an elven god not their Lady.
"So I know," the First Sister said, smiling as she came close enough to offer her hands in greeting. "You have given my Lady joy; welcome, cousin."
"Drizzt Do'Urden." He gave her his hands, squeezing hers without fear.
"Qilué Veladorn. I look forward to seeing your dance, and my hunters will aid you in learning the surface as it is here in the Material Plane."
"I am glad to be able to give aid for a good cause," he assured her, before walking with her into the camp to meet those present in this band.
Elkantar cheered young Rylla on from where he was sprawled on the ground. The half-human was possibly the only one of the fighters that would, someday, match their new fighter in any way. He rolled to his butt, keeping eyes on this grand melee… and the one that had become the center of it all.
Drizzt Do'Urden was an enigma. He'd spent an unknown amount of time in the Dark Maiden's realm, personally handled a quest for Corellon, been shrouded by Lolth Herself at his birth, and been raised by a priestess of Vhaeraun.
None of those deities held the fighter's heart, and Elkantar had been surprised to learn his escape from the Underdark had come before he even turned thirty-one years of age, making his skill simply impossible. That he embraced these free-for-all skill contests, or the one-on-one spars with a true smile of joy never stopped pulling Elkantar's heart strings.
Every other fighter in their band had already lost their weapons or been tripped out of the designated area. Elkantar slowly recognized that Drizzt had worked to insure Rylla was the last fighter, handling the few fighters — like Elkantar himself — that had the experience and skill needed to put her out of it.
"Too much anger," he heard Drizzt say, when the double scimitars trapped the short sword, pulling it out of Rylla's grasp. She refocused her stance a moment, then took the step back, and saluted with her dagger across her chest to surrender.
"How can I not be angry?" she retorted.
"By remembering that holding your anger at the people behind you? Still gives them power."
Those calm, quiet words held empathy and knowing alike… and were just what Rylla needed to hear, to help move one more step forward on her own path of healing.
"Make me better," Rylla said, half a demand, half a plea.
"I will give you every bit of training my father gave me… though maybe with fewer unexpected naps."
Corellon considered the actions of His Daughter, and ultimately decided He was amused. He had, after all, opened the door with His own manipulation. Giving the Chosen a man who had the technique, if not the experience, to increase her people's ability to carve out a space for themselves even earlier could only be a good foil against the drow of both Lolth and Vhaeraun.
He tried to see ahead, to make out the possibilities more clearly… and found the mists of time past the point when Drizzt had originally been taken from the Underdark still opaque.
"At least none of Us should be bored for a time," He mused, going back to listen to His own followers for a time. His Lore Keeper was being a force of nature in his own way, keeping new ideas fresh alongside the ancient ways. It might prove interesting, when the drow struck out on his own, to see about a meeting for them…
Chapter 5: Family Reunion
Dinin had proven to have a good hand for how to keep their outpost incognito, on top of the politics of the moment, and out of strife with either Vhaeraunite faction. It helped that both of those groups wanted to end each other's influence, but were constrained by some strange religious tenet from just killing one another.
At least openly, as Dinin learned when a priest was murdered in the night market, supposedly by ruffians.
What he did not appreciate was having to be schooled by Jarlaxle's people on a third drow vector, a bunch of idiots that thought peace and living in harmony was the better way of life. He decided they could be ignored as they only came once a quarter to trade —
— until he heard that a band of six drow from the mercantile company faction had been sent running with minor injuries… and none of their weapons.
"I thought they weren't a threat," Dinin muttered.
Karolz shook his head, a much older fighter, one that had been recruited in this city long before. He hated leading, didn't have a head for it, but had accepted Dinin in that role.
"Those Dancers usually avoid a fight. But once every hand of years or so, some braggart decides to test either their Sword Mistress, or Purple Eyes. And this time, it's Purple Eyes with the caravan."
Purple Eyes. Dinin made a gesture against ill-luck, still remembering the one time he'd seen his younger brother in a true temper. He had no idea what had happened to Drizzt, only that whatever it had been had not broken the peace between Zaknafein and Vierna. Dinin knew that meant Drizzt had not been killed; he wasn't as stupid as some people thought he was, and Zak had been odd about the boy.
"Make sure none of ours pick a fight, or cross paths with the mercantiles, hmm? They're going to be more apt to rise to the bait for this."
That got a chuckle and nod… before Karolz watched Dinin secure his cloak over his armor and head out to see for himself.
Dinin found the Dancers easily enough, and decided they looked very tame. He didn't see anyone that really looked like they could give him trouble in a fight, but he also didn't see anyone with purple eyes. Maybe Karolz was wrong and one of the women wearing a sword was this so-called Sword Mistress.
He decided it had been a waste of time to come down and see, turned down a different path to begin his way back —
— and then he did see purple, a moment before he saw all of his brother. The small signs of maturity were settled in around the eyes and ears, while Drizzt stood straight with those curved swords of his still in their scabbards. Fine mithral chain glinted under the over tunic, and a metal face-guard held the mane of hair back, in the same fashion Zaknafein wore his.
"Hello, brother," Drizzt said, actually quirking a half-smile on his lips. "I never expected to see you this far from the city."
"Umm, you… Abyss, I never thought to see you again at all!" Dinin said. "I don't want a fight; I came to see if the rumor of Purple Eyes had anything to do with you, yes, but… I really am just evaluating the threats to my own situation."
Drizzt laughed. "You must be the new one watching Bregan D'Aerthe, then. I'd heard there were several new people since my last visit here." He must have read the confusion in Dinin's face, because he shrugged. "I got caught up in time magic. I've lived in the area above for a few decades now.
"Will you tell me of our sister, and the Weapon Master?"
Dinin nodded. "Trust me enough to come back to the warehouse we keep? Or should we take a meal at the Dimmed Lantern?"
"I won't go so far as to say trust," Drizzt said slyly, "but I prefer to be out of the public eye to discuss this, and I am well known at the Dimmed Lantern."
"Does everyone call you Purple Eyes?"
"Mostly," Drizzt agreed. He fell in step with Dinin, and Dinin noted his brother already knew the path. What had his experiences been that Drizzt actually seemed cognizant of power structures? Did he really want to know?
Ultimately, Dinin decided he did not.
Drizzt relaxed in the deep tub across from the one Laeral Silverhand was in. As the Silverhand that most paid attention to the treacheries in Skullport, Drizzt had come to her to talk about what he had learned this time. Their friendship went back almost to the beginning of his time above with Qilué, as the sisters were very close.
"So my elder brother manages the in-theory Lolthite faction over there. Honestly, the mercenary company he belongs to worships chaos, money, and power, I believe, from what I have seen of them in the past. Through him, I know that our House in Menzoberranzan fell within the last few years.
"But, through his own sources, he knows that my father and sister have established themselves in a a place called Rilauven."
"As best I can remember, that is a minor city somewhere under the Neverwinter," Laeral offered, lounging as nonchalantly as her friend. Dual tubs were almost as good as a large bathing pool.
"I planned to see what the Marauders could tell me of it," Drizzt said, his voice having that note of seeking adventure.
"Planning to go see for yourself? I remind you that your nature is antithetical in all ways to what you would find."
Drizzt chuckled. "I can charm a lizard or a bat to carry a note inside, if I choose to go that way. And your amulet very nicely masks me, when I choose to wear it."
Laeral looked over. "You miss your father, even your sister, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Then I will just say, 'be careful', and I will definitely reach out and knock on your skull in half a year, to be sure you are breathing. If not, the Marauders will be hired to find your body so Qi can bring you back to us."
He shook his head at her, but he had no intention of dying. He just needed to know if his sister was as aware as he was, of the threads of destiny they had unknowingly wrapped themselves in.
Vierna was not unaccustomed to bats bringing her messages. What she was unaccustomed to, was not feeling the touch of her Lord's spellwork on them, instead brushing something unknown when she tried to determine who the sender had been. She also did not see any message to take from it. When she focused fully on it, the bat fluttered just out of reach and roosted.
"If you or father would come, I am awaiting outside the gate your people use to go Above for trade."
The bat, having spoken with her brother's voice, did a small shake of itself and fluttered back out of Vierna's very surprised presence.
Needing to have time to wrap her head around that, the ability to blank her emotions, she sent her messenger spider to her father. The pirate spiders she had brought with her were thriving, especially as they killed any other spiders that dared cross the wards, protecting them from Lolthite spies.
Several minutes later, Zak strode in, an eyebrow raised. "Sometimes I worry your spiders fetching me could be omens, daughter."
She laughed, a little bit more brittle than she meant to. "Something odd, but not… bad? Maybe?
"A bat came and delivered a spoken message in Drizzt's voice, saying he was outside the trade gate to the Surface, asking if one of us would come meet with him. The magic on the bat was unlike any I have felt, and the accent was correct."
Zak frowned, then considered a long moment. "Are you still unable — yes, you are. Of course you already tried to reach him that way." He hitched a shoulder. "I suppose I am taking a walk. Put the undead into defensive positions, just in case."
"Of course, Father. If it is… and he will come… please bring him in. I can explain it as an intelligence seeking."
That got a laugh, but Zak nodded. "If that boy knows anything of use, I will be shocked."
Zak moved out of the gate uncontested, as he was known to sometimes forage for his daughter's wild needs. In the years since arriving here, they had made a solid reputation as fair but powerful. The only true trouble they'd had was from Lolthites seeking to undo the Masked Traitor's prominence, but Vierna remained high in the favor of her Lord.
Once he cleared the perimeter of the city's awareness, he knew he was not alone, and had to look sharply… before his son melted out of a shadow.
"Hello, Father," Drizzt called, breaking into a genuine smile. Even as jaded as Zak was, everything matched… except the age. This man was too mature to his eyes, and he remained poised, ready to engage the trap so his daughter stayed safe.
"Hmm, not so certain of that."
Drizzt threw his head back and laughed, before spreading his hands wide from his body. "Blame your daughter, then, as she put me in the hands of a goddess and set me on a strange path that had time magic in it."
Zak let an eyebrow rise at those words.
"Would a fetch know you nearly killed me rather than let me go become a drow in all truth? Or that you broke my jaw to keep me from exposing both of us to the Matron? Or that I almost caused your death the very night Vierna became Matron?"
"It might… but I think I might believe you." Zak beckoned. "Your sister wishes to see you as well, peacefully. The city is not a closed one, and if you're still so strange, she'll shove it off as getting what you know of other places."
"Oh, I am strange, even to those that agree with my views on life," Drizzt said, still smiling so openly, and Zak reached out as he came close, gripping his shoulders.
"I am glad you stayed strange, and alive!"
Drizzt leaned in, resting his forehead on his father's. "Vierna saved me by doing as she did, and now I wish to repay that, with a warning and words of my life."
"Then let us go into the city, my son, and hear what you have to say."
Vierna hugged her little brother fiercely, taking in all the changes as Zak had done. He was dressed sensibly in a piwafwi of fair construction, had adamantine blades in plain scabbards, and everything had the right feel of the Underdark.
"You cannot possibly have been in the Underdark since I set you in safety!" she pointed out.
"No, but we keep such things for movement below the faerzress," Drizzt said. "As I do aid sometimes, I had everything I needed in one of our caches.
"When Dinin told me where you two had gone, I retrieved them for my journey. One that is formerly of House Vaer here aided me in swift travel," he added.
"Dinin's in Skullport, last I knew," Zak said.
"He is, and thriving," Drizzt agreed. "We have an understanding, as I have no wish to be involved heavily in drow things."
"You mentioned a warning," Zak prodded, once they were all comfortable.
Drizzt sobered up and looked at Vierna. "Do you have any idea how tangled in divine events we now are, sister? The choice you made, to save me, prodded the Twins toward aid for one another, when He was attacked. I have been given quests by Her and by others of the pantheon in my time-tossed decades."
She slowly frowned, but his words rang true against some of the dreams that had come since she settled here.
"I can see the shape of that now that you say it," she admitted. "Your thoughts?"
"Something lies ahead. Neither of my patron deities know what, but more and more, I am drawn to larger threats, sharpening all of my skills and the magic I touch as a kind of divine-touched fighter."
Vierna had to rake her eyes over him at that claim, but… she did not know all things of the surface yet.
"Both of my children using divine magic now. There's a strangeness," Zak said in a slow drawl.
That made them all laugh.
"I suppose, little brother, I am going to ask you to stay long enough to get sending stones for you and father to carry, and work out a timing for us to keep in touch," Vierna said. "So we can at least warn one another of things that come to pass."
"I am already looking forward to the spars," Drizzt said, agreeing easily. "Just tell me how to not make trouble here, and I will be a good guest.
"I've kept an open mind toward your god, even if I question some of His idiot followers' ways."
"Well, some of them are idiots, but I think that is true of all religions," Vierna agreed, pleased.
Vhaeraun smiled in His own realm. Allies, when the coming storm arrived, were not to be dismissed out of hand. And, if the siblings forged a bond across alignment, then perhaps…
… well, He knew He was still deeply fond of His own Twin. Perhaps in time, He might yet convince Her to see His way of thinking.
He would keep His defenses up, and all of His craft tuned to the danger ahead for all of the gods.
Tallying.
Mar. 8th, 2026 08:42 pmhannah
Knowing my parents' summer plans, I don't think I'll want to attend the full vacation with them. I don't know yet if I'll want to attend any of it with them. They're staying in a town a half-hour's drive from Beacon, which is a pleasant enough train ride, so I'm thinking maybe three days, tops, would be okay.
Last time they did this, I only stayed a handful of days. It's not unprecedented in our vacation plans. I'll probably want to get out of New York City in its sticky season, and knowing I'll have a limited amount of time there from the get-go is probably one of the better things I can do to be able to enjoy myself. I've seen what happens when it's all on my parents. It doesn't end well.
Last time they did this, I only stayed a handful of days. It's not unprecedented in our vacation plans. I'll probably want to get out of New York City in its sticky season, and knowing I'll have a limited amount of time there from the get-go is probably one of the better things I can do to be able to enjoy myself. I've seen what happens when it's all on my parents. It doesn't end well.
10trueloves: fight
Mar. 8th, 2026 01:58 pmsenmutAO3 Link | Chairwoman's Invite (300 words) by Merfilly
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Justice League of America
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Dinah Lance, Diana of Themyscira
Additional Tags: +Modern Age (1986-Present), Post-Crisis, [Justice League of America Vol. 2 - 2006]
Summary:
Oh look, I accidentally wrote something for International Woman's Day.
Diana came into the locker room behind their Chairwoman, glad none of the other women had stayed to change and clean up here. She frowned as she saw the living bruising revealed as the smaller woman peeled out of her costume. In her mind's eye, she saw again as Black Canary dove to cover a child that had been too close to destruction and flinched in memory at how much force her teammate had taken.
And then gotten back up to finish the fight with a Canary Cry that sent the villain reeling back through the portal that had brought him.
"No super strength. No special endurance or nigh-invulnerability. Do you know how worried you make me, even as you take my breath away with your utter willingness to protect others?" she asked.
Dinah chuckled, shaking her head. "It's too much in my blood not to. And I do have many martial arts under my belt, so to speak. Not as good as Richard Dragon or Shiva, but I can protect myself a little from the damage.
"However, I already have plans on a hot bubble bath and wine to help soak this one away."
Dinah met Diana's eyes, having caught that little shift and parting of Wonder Woman's lips on the images that brought to mind.
"My new tub is big enough for two," she invited, as bold in this as she was in her fighting style.
"As it will let me add a massage to soothe the blood rising," and Diana smiled wickedly on her choice of words, "I think I will take you up on that offer."
"Get changed, Princess; you turn too many heads in that for where my place is." Dinah answered the smile with her own, before she — and Diana — got street clothes on.
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Justice League of America
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Dinah Lance, Diana of Themyscira
Additional Tags: +Modern Age (1986-Present), Post-Crisis, [Justice League of America Vol. 2 - 2006]
Summary:
Diana is amazed and worried by the way their Chairwoman handles herself.
Oh look, I accidentally wrote something for International Woman's Day.
Chairwoman's Invite
Diana came into the locker room behind their Chairwoman, glad none of the other women had stayed to change and clean up here. She frowned as she saw the living bruising revealed as the smaller woman peeled out of her costume. In her mind's eye, she saw again as Black Canary dove to cover a child that had been too close to destruction and flinched in memory at how much force her teammate had taken.
And then gotten back up to finish the fight with a Canary Cry that sent the villain reeling back through the portal that had brought him.
"No super strength. No special endurance or nigh-invulnerability. Do you know how worried you make me, even as you take my breath away with your utter willingness to protect others?" she asked.
Dinah chuckled, shaking her head. "It's too much in my blood not to. And I do have many martial arts under my belt, so to speak. Not as good as Richard Dragon or Shiva, but I can protect myself a little from the damage.
"However, I already have plans on a hot bubble bath and wine to help soak this one away."
Dinah met Diana's eyes, having caught that little shift and parting of Wonder Woman's lips on the images that brought to mind.
"My new tub is big enough for two," she invited, as bold in this as she was in her fighting style.
"As it will let me add a massage to soothe the blood rising," and Diana smiled wickedly on her choice of words, "I think I will take you up on that offer."
"Get changed, Princess; you turn too many heads in that for where my place is." Dinah answered the smile with her own, before she — and Diana — got street clothes on.