senmut: Drizzt hold ing his hand up against the sun in the distance (Forgotten Realms: Drizzt Sun)
[personal profile] senmut posting in [community profile] no_true_pair
Title: Wary Arrival
Fandom: Dragonlance/Legend of Drizzt
Pairing/Characters: Raistlin Majere & Dalamar & Drizzt Do'Urden
Content Notes: None
Prompt: July 19 - Legend of Drizzt and Dragonlance: Very bright lights

Wary Arrival

Drizzt Do'Urden was not a man to allow anything to leave him flat-footed for long. The tail had whipped around too fast, flung him back through the gate when it stole his breath with the thud against his chest, but he rolled with the blow, and came up, swords already back in their ready position… to find the gate had no visible sign on this side, and his eyes were streaming tears from the change of tree-dappled shade and sun to the glare of multiple light sources in a confined space.

Sound told him two bodies, both in loose rustling clothes, and the air pressure spoke of several obstacles in a small space.

"Deal with him; he's some sort of elf," a voice said, and Drizzt realized the sound of it was being translated through the arm-band he'd been gifted with, an artifact for translation.

Thankfully, it worked on his words too.

"Peace, unless you are in league with the dark ranger and druid I was fighting," Drizzt said.

"Magic," a second voice said, and now Drizzt knew where both were more clearly.

"How interesting," came a sardonic reply to that, and Drizzt could all but feel the jaded sense in the speaker.

"If you are both familiar with magic," he hazarded, "I can try and trade knowledge," he offered, smelling books and ink, "for a return to my rightful place before any of the archmages I work with come seeking me."

"Deal," the second voice answered, with only the slightest sigh from the first. As a show of peace, Drizzt flipped his swords into their scabbards, and ignored his injuries in favor of forcing his eyes to work. One elf, one… that was not quite a human, if he were to guess, for all the man likely had begun as such.

"Drizzt Do'Urden."

"Dalamar Nightson," the elf with bronze skin said. "And he is Raistlin Majere," he added when the once-human did not respond to the question of names implicit in the introduction. "Let us get our impressions of the portal that spit you out, and then we will decide further how to proceed."

Drizzt nodded once, and started working on his injuries, relieved that Mielikki's magic could aid him still — and aware that the one called Raistlin was studying him more than where he'd fallen from. There was a sense of foreboding, and Drizzt would stay on guard.

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