Fic: Sparks in the Night
Jul. 4th, 2016 08:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beekeeperofeden[crossposting from tumblr]
Context: This AU deviates at the end of The Last Threshhold. Rather than listening to Kimmuriel and going elsewhere, Jarlaxle catches up with everyone else outside Luskan and begins to travel with them for a while as they all go north, before they all do a Rip Van Winkle.
Summary: Banter!fic. Jarlaxle and Entreri are both assholes and Drizzt is done with both of them. No one has healthy conflict resolution skills.
Context: This AU deviates at the end of The Last Threshhold. Rather than listening to Kimmuriel and going elsewhere, Jarlaxle catches up with everyone else outside Luskan and begins to travel with them for a while as they all go north, before they all do a Rip Van Winkle.
Summary: Banter!fic. Jarlaxle and Entreri are both assholes and Drizzt is done with both of them. No one has healthy conflict resolution skills.
“Drizzt, please inform Jarlaxle that my decision to tolerate his presence is not an indication that he should speak to me.” Entreri leaned forward to poke the firepit with a stick, causing sparks to fly up into the night sky.
Drizzt pinched the bridge of his nose and scowled at the flames. “Do not bring me into this,” he said.
“You’re already involved.” In the flickering orange light, Entreri’s smirk seemed to dance upon his face. “You wanted to keep him around, so you can communicate with him.”
“A hundred years and he’s only gotten more sour,” Jarlaxle remarked in the Snirfneblin language. Drizzt couldn’t even bring himself to be surprised that Jarlaxle knew it. He sighed deeply. Entreri was frowning now, clearly torn between complaining about the snub or continuing to ignore Jarlaxle.
“It’s not polite to deliberately keep people out of the conversation,” he replied in Common. Jarlaxle shrugged.
“Nor is it polite to pretend someone doesn’t exist. Besides, I’ve rather missed frustrating him.” Jarlaxle chuckled as Entreri looked out across the fire and studied the gamblers as if nothing was going on. “Besides, don’t tell me you haven’t missed the chance to speak this tongue.”
It was true. The crackling consonants and trills gave Drizzt a pang of nostalgia, thinking of one of the first friends he had ever made. He smiled.
“Perhaps,” he said. Entreri’s eyes widened and he turned to glare at Drizzt’s betrayal.
“See?” Jarlaxle said with a grin. “It’s fun.”
“You’re going to get me murdered.”
Drizzt pinched the bridge of his nose and scowled at the flames. “Do not bring me into this,” he said.
“You’re already involved.” In the flickering orange light, Entreri’s smirk seemed to dance upon his face. “You wanted to keep him around, so you can communicate with him.”
“A hundred years and he’s only gotten more sour,” Jarlaxle remarked in the Snirfneblin language. Drizzt couldn’t even bring himself to be surprised that Jarlaxle knew it. He sighed deeply. Entreri was frowning now, clearly torn between complaining about the snub or continuing to ignore Jarlaxle.
“It’s not polite to deliberately keep people out of the conversation,” he replied in Common. Jarlaxle shrugged.
“Nor is it polite to pretend someone doesn’t exist. Besides, I’ve rather missed frustrating him.” Jarlaxle chuckled as Entreri looked out across the fire and studied the gamblers as if nothing was going on. “Besides, don’t tell me you haven’t missed the chance to speak this tongue.”
It was true. The crackling consonants and trills gave Drizzt a pang of nostalgia, thinking of one of the first friends he had ever made. He smiled.
“Perhaps,” he said. Entreri’s eyes widened and he turned to glare at Drizzt’s betrayal.
“See?” Jarlaxle said with a grin. “It’s fun.”
“You’re going to get me murdered.”