"Used to think it was the only part of my life,

But now I realize there's a whole world outside.

Goodbye's too hard for me to say.

Is this where I belong?

Is this where I choose to stay?

My home…"

Andra awoke with a start, jerked suddenly back to the waking world. Wide eyes looked upon her new world, which was waiting for her just as she'd left it: campfire dying peacefully, Wulfgar and Cattie-Brie sleeping across from her, and Drizzt's empty bedroll laying beside her. And beyond was the road, and the rolling hills and trees with no telephone lines to break the endless leafy sea. Beyond was Lomund, and Iasair, where countless people in cloaks and hoods burned lanterns instead of flipping on a light switch, and slept on straw mattresses while their horses bedded down in the same stuff out in the stables.

Another dream. And he was back. Just a glimpse, but enough. She'd gotten a good look at him this time…now it was clear why he'd seemed so different. It wasn't Drizzt at all in her dreams. It never had been. Everything fit…

Andra's fingers pulled her hair over her shoulder, fidgeting nervously with the long blonde locks. Faerun… She was surrounded by it, by a world she didn't know beyond this one tiny clearing—a world filled with a thousand strangers all older and wiser than she was and not one face who knew her soul.

There wasn't a single person here who knew her as "Andy." No one who waited especially for her in the gallery after school, with his one hand in his pocket and the other waving high up in the air, making an idiot of himself just to get her attention. Nobody with ripped jeans and his denim jacket with only one sleeve, and a smile that could warm the world, and a bright orange motorcycle that he drove too fast everywhere he went…

Her new world, just the same. Just as empty of anyone named Chase Michael Archer.

"No…ah, no!" She whispered, fists clenched around the strand of hair she'd been fidgeting with. She'd never even thought once about Chase. That alone surprised and appalled her, but astonishing was the sudden, horrible reality of what she'd done. She was miles away from anything she knew, out in the ocean, alone in the sea. No lifelines. No rafts. Plenty of water to drown in. She'd left him behind and it was impossible for her to go back. He was lost to her, just as gone as the rest of Earth. Just as good as dead.

No…he was alive, and maybe that was the worst part. He was alive and there waiting but she still could never see him again. Oh, he'd be in such bad shape by now… Probably everyone knew by now that she was missing. She imagined Chase hearing the news—his shock…Later, his grief, and him angry at everything, falling into himself like he tended to, shutting out everyone. He would be so hurt, so angry that he was helpless. And what about everyone else? Her parents…how they must feel.

…What had she done?

Andra tore the sleeping bag open, scaring herself with the loud noise from the zipper. She scrambled to stand, but her feet got tangled in the sleeping bag, sending her falling backwards. Andra suppressed a random urge to sob and stood up again, stepping away from the tangled-up bed and out onto forest ground. She hissed angrily when twigs and rocks stabbed at her bare feet. This time, a quiet sob escaped her, and tears made an unwelcome appearance in her eyes.

"Andra?"

She looked up, startled at the sound of someone's whisper. Drizzt was coming back into the clearing. Andra froze, like a thief caught in the middle of a heist.

In her head she heard his words from the first night they met. "A real world, Andra, not a fantasy or a dream."

Drizzt walked towards her, until he realized that she backed away for every step he took. She was terrified of something…and Drizzt tried to deny the suspicion that maybe it might be him. "I heard…Are you alright?"

She gave no answer, but he watched her face shift from fear into devastation. She shook her head, wishing she could say something to him, anything to even being to explain. But what could she say to this stranger, this shadowy dream, this…this lie?

Without a word, Andra suddenly turned and fled into the trees.

"Forget this life.

Come with me. Don't look back;

You're safe now.

Unlock your heart, drop your guard;

No one's left to stop you."

"Andra!" Drizzt's hand reached out after her, black fingers touching only empty air. He cast a glance to the side, assuring that Wulfgar and Cat were still sleeping. The drow ran off into the woods, leaving the camp and his companions behind.

The light of the campfire faded fast behind him, replaced by the lonely darkness of sleeping trees. Even under the pale moonlight, he couldn't see Andra. He slowed and stopped, glancing around in the dark. There—he saw a flash of white among the darkness. Must be her hair, he thought as he started running again. Too blonde for camouflage.

"Cosain!" he yelled after her, with no reply.

His boots pounded the ground, driving him faster than he knew was possible. He rounded a copse of trees and caught another glimpse of her, just as she ducked once more out of sight, behind a thicket of undergrowth. He took a shorter route around the bushes, hoping to gain some ground.

This time, the way was clear: a wide dirt path probably made by deer. He saw her ahead, running along the trail as if her life depended on it. She glanced behind her and yelped, a familiar fearful scream that pierced to deep places within the jaded drow.

"Andra," Drizzt barked, past the point of annoyed. She was screwing with his mind, scaring him and he didn't like it. He dove into the chase, running after her again—and this time he was gaining. He put on a sudden burst of speed, determined, breath rasping through his clenched teeth in short bursts. He was right next to her now—a few more inches was all he needed…

Andra shrieked as she felt the hand latch onto her arm, yanking her roughly backwards. Her momentum suddenly stolen, she lost her balance and fell backward, right into a waiting trap of open arms.

Drizzt held onto her, wrapping his arms around her in attempt to make her stop struggling. He called her name over and over, but she just kept squirming against him. "Andra—Andra, stop!" he shouted. "It's only me!"

Andy sobbed and growled at him blindly, weakly beating against his chest, holding no coherent idea why she kept fighting. But her momentum quickly collapsed as the tears began to take over. She found herself no longer struggling, but leaning against him, depending on his embrace to even stand…she was tired of standing. Andra slid to her knees, pulling Drizzt with her. She buried her face in his chest and cried, clinging to fistfuls of his shirt.

Drizzt's commanding voice had turned to gentle whispers. "Shh, Andy; It's only me. Nothing will hurt you…" He moved one hand to the back of her head, stroking her hair. Her fists tightened on the fabric of his shirt. "Alright. You're alright…What?"

"I can't—I can't do it, I g-gotta go back…"

Drizzt tensed, not saying anything. Those may be hysterics, but they were fueled by very real thoughts. "Please…Be still, Andra. Calm d—"

"No!" She cut him off with a sudden, angry scream, beating am arm against his chest. "Not while I'm here I won't; I can't! Yo-you were right…I bet you love it, being right… You knew I couldn't make it! Why didn't you stop me!"

Drizzt tried in vain to stop his hands from shaking as he stumbled over words, trying to find an answer. "I…I wasn't allowed…" he whispered.

Andra snorted derisively, dropping her forehead on his shoulder. "Y-you don't care…what's allowed."

He had no answer. She was picking things up—getting to know his personality. And look what it was doing to her. Drizzt ground his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. "Am I—" He was cut off as his voice cracked and broke. Finally, he just gave a hollow laugh and whispered, "Are we really so horrible?"

"W...what…?" Andra slowly lifted her head. He wasn't looking at her; his eyes were closed, trying to uphold a mask to hide some profound pain. Looking closer, she gasped, astonished and sorry all at once. There were tears running down his black face.

"No…" She hugged his waist, suddenly desperate that he understand. "I'm sorry, no…I-it's not horrible, it's…wonderful. Crazy stupid impossible wonderful. And—that's why. I-I'm not…good enough to be here…I'm n—I'm not strong enough to be a cosain."

"Alright, Andy. Stop with that. Right now." Drizzt sighed deeply and pulled her closer. She rested her head on his chest, taking comfort in the low hum of his voice. "Good enough, Andra? Who's to set the limits on what is good enough? …Only you can know when you are satisfied with your efforts. It is…your own self who decides. What is good enough."

She had no words; they were lost in waves of guilt and divine relief. He was noble… If she had any doubts about that, they were vanished now. He was still noble.

Trying to talk around the constricted feeling in her throat, Andra croaked, "I for…forgot about him…"

He shushed her again, slowly gaining back his calm rationality. He was strong again. Good…she needed strong. "Calm down, Andy. What do you mean; who?"

"Chase!" Andra was well aware of the fact that she sounded like a hysteric fool. But he wasn't annoyed or asking anything annoying like "why." He only lent her strength, and a shelter where she was allowed to be pathetic and not be judged. …Wow. Remember when she swore to never cry? …Man, that was stupid. And pointless. Crying was awesome if you had someone to cry on.

Assailed by guilt, Drizzt knew only one thing to tell her. He hated it. This was the absolute worst part about lying: the confession. But he had to say it. It was the only thing she wanted to hear.

"…You still have Chase, Andra."

She pulled back just enough to look up at him. "Wha…whassat mean?"

Drizzt's face held hesitation and pain, seeing the tiny embers deep in her eyes: anger. Not at him, but at hope that was rising in herself. She thought it to be vain hope. Drizzt didn't yet know if that was the truth. "I am sorry…" he whispered, wanting but unable to turn down his eyes.

Andra sniffed and somehow managed to make it sound annoyed. "Well, for what?"

Drizzt shook his head and pulled gently away, leaving her on her knees on the forest floor. She resisted the urge to reach out for him. He didn't stand, but reached to his neck and pulled on the string of the wooden mask he still wore there—backwards, so it wouldn't get in his way. Drizzt brought it to the front and held it inches from his face, hesitating. Then he closed his eyes and pressed the mask into place.

Andra watched in mounting astonishment as the transformation unfolded. Slowly, Drizzt's black skin melted away to the pale tan of human skin. His hair turned gold, shoulder-length, with brown streaks interrupting the blonde. Soon, the drow sitting beside her was gone. Chase Archer, staring at her in silence, took his place.

Andra gaped in horror, dragging herself backwards and away—away from this lie, this figure of shifting shadow. She watched him bow his head to remove the mask, casting it to the ground. He gradually faded back to his black-elven self. He didn't look at her; his eyes were closed again.

Chase…was Drizzt? But he… No! She'd known Chase for four years! He understood her, and she understood him… She'd thought. How could he not be real? He was the only good thing in her world—the only one who mattered! And now it was like he… He really was dead now. He didn't exist in any world. And she still couldn't see him again.

"…I'm sorry, Andy."

Andra's eyes widened, mouth dropping open in a silent gasp.

Not one person who knew her soul…not one in his world who knew her as "Andy."

Chase wasn't dead. The person she'd known, the soul she understood, he was still there. Only he…had a different name. Andra looked up. His head bowed hopelessly, Drizzt still hadn't moved. Though his eyes were closed, she could see the looming scowl, the grimace of regret. The sorrow for them both. And the way he ran the tips of his fingers through his hair as he covered his face with one hand, just like Chase did when he was upset.

Drizzt gasped as Andra suddenly threw her arms around his neck. He stared forward in disbelief, arms held out wide as if afraid to touch her.

"I'm sorry I ran," she mumbled into his shoulder.

Drizzt hesitated. Slowly, gently, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "It…it's alright…" he whispered, unsure whether it was safe yet to feel so relieved.

"…We all must run sometimes."

….

"And I don't want the world to see me.

I just don't think that they'd understand.

When everything's made to be broken,

I just want you to know who I am."

The mask went over and over in his black hands, long fingers tracing the unmarked wood. Drizzt sat alone by the fireside in pre-dawn light, leaning against a tree. Cat was on watch and Wulfgar still slept. Andra hadn't woken up yet either and he was pretty sure he was glad for that. He thought.

She was quiet now in her sleep; no dreams. Between the mad sprinting and the random hysterics, she'd tired herself out. She'd likely sleep for a while yet. Drizzt could have his quiet solitude.

…He hated it.

He turned the unremarkable wooden face towards his own, scowling into its hollow eyes. Much as he hated to prove Robert right, he did hate the mask. But not because it was a lie to his soul. It was because he needed it. Drizzt did not like to need anything.

Anyone. His lavender eyes turned to Andra's sleeping form.

How could she stand herself? Always needing people, always shoving them away. …He wasn't used to being needed. It was restricting. It was terrifying. He never asked for that. How did one so picky about relationships still choose to need someone like him?

Someone like him. He hated that phrase. There shouldn't even be a need for it—for any phrase like that. Its cousin was: "Even though you're a drow." He wished they would stop saying it. "We love you, even though you're you." It tortured him. They didn't understand how it tortured him.

Andra, though. She loved him when he was Chase Archer.

With a sigh, he looked away. Really? That wouldn't last. Once she knew him, she'd be saying it too. If she didn't just end up rejecting him completely—which would be better, but he doubted she had the strength for that. She'd still love him, even though he was Drizzt. Not because he was Drizzt.

That's why he needed the mask. Not many even had the good grace to say "even though." Salvatore had been right about one thing: the prejudice. The world hated him for being drow. And that was an annoyance, to be sure. Didn't always cut as deep as Robert made it out to, really… But maybe it did. Andra's terrified scream came to mind.

Was it because he was drow…or because he was Drizzt? He immediately shoved the question away. Didn't matter. She'd forgiven him and that mattered.

So if he had such capability for inspiring fear, he should be glad for those who accepted him. And he was, of course. His friends were the world to him; he was grateful. In a world of exile, they'd given him a home and comfort the likes of which he'd begun to doubt even existed. They were honorable in that they looked past his skin color. But…tolerance and true acceptance were two very different things.

You can never really love someone "even though."

"…You trynna stare a hole through it?"

Drizzt snapped his eyes upward to see Wulfgar was awake, but still in his bedroll, propping himself up on his elbows to smirk at the drow. Drizzt rolled his eyes and hung the mask around his neck, turning it around to the back. "Sure. I hear wonderful things about heat-vision."

Wulfgar chuckled and rubbed a hand over his face, still half-asleep. He rose with a tired grunt, lazily kicking aside his bedroll. "How can you bear waking so blasted early every morning?" he mumbled, rubbing his stiff neck.

Drizzt's only answer was a shrug. Wulfgar paused to stare at him. But the drow wasn't looking his way; his unfocused eyes were again towards Andra, who still slept across the campfire. Wulfgar hesitated, wondering if it was wise to ask…But he hadn't asked questions last night, when Drizzt had carried the crying child back into camp and put her to sleep, without a word of explanation to anyone. So if he was going to get any answers at all, now was as good a time as any. "Is she alright?"

Drizzt looked at him sharply. "I took care of her," he assured immediately, voice biting defensively.

Wulfgar looked away, grinding his teeth as he suppressed the urge to choke the stupid black pixie. Drizzt was as great a companion as could be asked for—but only when he wasn't being a moody self-defensive brat. Wulfgar huffed a sigh and waved a hand through the air. "I meant well in asking," he shot back, turning away to find something else to do.

The cold edge left Drizzt's face as he turned his eyes down. Grand. Not five minutes into the day and he was already cursing things with his own mood. "…She is alright," he mumbled quietly, still watching the ground.

Wulfgar closed his eyes with a small smile. Poor guy couldn't even work up a decent apology. Luckily for him, Wulfgar understood his language of hidden words. "You found out what was wrong with her, then?" he continued casually as if nothing had happened, kneeling beside his bedroll as he started rolling it up into a bundle.

Drizzt smiled silently, watching his friend as he pretended to be focused on packing up the bed. The drow sat back and put his hands behind his head, closing his eyes with a light smirk. "Nope."

"…What? Then how do you know she's alright?"

Drizzt opened one purple eye and said, "When you're drowning…you don't say 'I would be incredibly pleased if someone would have the foresight to notice me drowning and come and help me.' You just scream."* And he left it at that, closing his eye again.

Wulfgar shook his head in wonder, but didn't bother with a reply. He just went back to packing up his bedroll.

….

"Isn't anyone trying to find me?

Won't somebody come take me home?

Take me by the hand,

Take me somewhere new.

I don't know who you are, but I…I'm with you.

I'm with you."

When she woke again, it was on her own. She dreaded waking up and facing the awkward silence between her and Drizzt. And the other two. Surely he'd told them. Feeling just about as pathetic as she could, Andra sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, wanting to get it over with and get on the road back to normal. But, to her immense relief, she was alone. More or less. The three of them were busy packing up camp.

All she got was her hair ruffled by Wulfgar as he passed by, a bundle of cloth tucked under his arm. "Morning, fox."

Andra stared after him for a few minutes before she decided she liked her new nickname. She looked around the camp and spotted Drizzt immediately. But he didn't look her way. She was almost sure, for a split second, that he must have seen her from the corner of his eye. But he didn't look. He was engrossed in the act of belting down gear to his saddle, something so simple for him that it definitely should not take that much concentration.

Andra turned her eyes down. This was worse than the awkward. The bad thing, though, was that she preferred it.

Andy stood up abruptly, not bothering to help by rolling up her sleeping bag. She'd get it later or something. She stalked away and went to climb one of the sloping hills that surrounded the campsite. Nobody'd notice really.

At the top, she found with pleasure that she couldn't see the campsite, or feel its inescapable presence behind her turned back. The hill was tall and clear, with no trees growing on its very top, and afforded her a view of the surrounding forest. She was cut-off up here. Like when you go in your room and shut the door: it seals you into your own little box separate from the rest of the world. If the door's open, you can hear everything from outside, maybe even see a glimpse of it as someone passes in the hallway. Intrusive, it spills into your haven like the dim light it carries. But Andra's door was closed right now. Her own little box.

She stared out over the beautiful hills and trees, lit in growing amber from the rising sun, and nearly felt herself closed off. But sound carries very well out on open fields, and she could still hear mumbles of their voices from behind, reminding her that she had no door to close. Andra winced in annoyance. She fumbled in her pocket, searching for her iPod. '…Drizzt has it. Crap.'

But she needed her music. It was one of those moods where you have to have music—you have to feel some emotion that's not yours, because yours royally suck. She hoped they wouldn't be able to hear her if she sang. 'Cause she needed to. "There's an—" Too loud; they'd hear that. She started again, softer. "There's an old wind…"

She glanced over her shoulder, took a few more steps away from camp. Looking out again at the sunrise and landscape, she nearly forgot all about shut doors and paranoia and loss. Because that sunrise was perfect. Picture perfect. "There's an old wind, and it blows through…Every sunlit song when I'm with you." Wow, she loved singing. This was her own song, and her own emotion, but she still loved it. She could get lost here.

"These my old friends—Fantasy, Dream.

And while the world goes ever sewing at its seams,

Here I am…far away."

"Behold her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass."

Suddenly torn from her glassy distance, Andra gasped, spinning around to see Drizzt standing on the other side of the small hill. He had his hands stuck in his pockets, one headphone of her iPod trailing from his ear, and the slightest smile resting on his lips.

"You are Scottish, right? Your ancestry? You told Chase once."

She gaped at him for several stunned heartbeats. "You…You creeper. How long've you been there?"

Drizzt shrugged. "I list'nd till I had my fill," he both answered and recited. Andra stared at him curiously, so he held up her iPod and explained, "Something called Classic Poetry Aloud.* You've got as much poetry as music in this thing."

Andra nodded dumbly, still trying to forget the embarrassment as having being heard. She recognized the words—he was quoting The Solitary Reaper. But he was also creeping in the bushes. She glared at him dully. "Drop any good eaves lately, Samwise Gamgee?"

Strangely, Drizzt's confused stare didn't make her want to laugh. She didn't feel like explaining the reference, so she just motioned to the iPod in his hand and changed the subject. "You like it, huh?"

He closed the distance between them, soft smile returning. "I can't tell what I like more. William Wordsworth, or how perfectly his name suits his profession."

A tentative smile broke through her blankness. "…You noticed, too," she mumbled. Drizzt nodded. Nobody had ever found that little fact as amusing as she did. "You like poetry?" He nodded again as he handed her the iPod. But his smile was fading. He just stared at her, searching with growing profundity, until she wished to high heaven he would speak what was on his mind. He didn't seem to be able to find the right words.

Finally, he said simply, "Will no one tell me what she sings?"

Andra suspiciously wondered if he was only just reciting. She doubted it.

"Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago."

"Or is it some more humble lay, Familiar matter of to-day?" He paused as Andra's eyes dropped to the ground. Sensing he was getting somewhere, he went on gently, "Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain…"

Andra looked up, meeting his eyes, and was slightly surprised to find gentle sadness and guilt there.

"That has been…and may be again."

Andy laughed and looked away again, shaking her head. "The words are easy for you. It means you love poetry." Drizzt didn't respond; his unspoken question still hung in the air, unanswered and lonely. Andra huffed a sigh and looked back out at the sunrise.

"I am sorry. You need not, if I'm overstepping boundaries."

Andra absently smiled. Now she had to give him something. To reward him for having manners. He knew it, too, the little weasel.

She didn't look at him as she spoke. "Did…you know Raylin?"

Drizzt blinked, confused again. "Well, some. I…knew Orpheus. Anyone who knew him knew Raylin."

She glanced at him, momentarily caught up in imagining a friendship between drow and nymph. The Nymph are like surface elves, right? A little? Friends with a dark elf. It must have been a wonderfully ironic thing. Anyway, she'd been asking something. "What were they like?"

Alright. This was random. But he'd only find out where it was heading if he played along. "Well. Raylin, from what I knew, was…bright, I suppose? Yes. Youthful, and bright. She was so easily amused, and by the tiniest little things. A bird on a fencepost could make her day. But she got stubborn and childish when she wanted her way. She never compromised. Her moronic father probably cursed her with that."

"And Orpheus…" Drizzt began, hesitant suddenly. He didn't like remembering Orpheus in the same way he didn't like remembering Regis. But he could hardly tell her no. "Orpheus was…gentle. Quiet. But he was strong, and you could tell it—that came out when he needed it to. He was such a nymph; it was so much a part of him. He wore his heritage like a fading badge... He loved music, naturally. Made me sing with him all the time." He laughed quietly, but his were slowly clouding over, longing and far away. She half expected him to start singing, and she wished he would—sing in his beautiful rainsong voice, quietly, full of emotions she couldn't see otherwise. Something he once sang with Orpheus.

But Drizzt only spoke again. "He had this…nymphish streak of mischief, when he was in a good mood. Crazy in a fight. Crazy—he'd catch afire in a fight. Maybe like...Salvatore's version of me. I don't know." He stopped there for a moment, shaking his head, and Andy could tell he was hitting his own nerves.

Now it was Andra who stared at him, while Drizzt looked off into the sunrise. He spoke so fondly of Orpheus, but there was a sour note to it. Something like jealousy, but diluted by loss and friendship. 'Salvatore's version of me…' That phrase stood out clearly to her. And after a moment of rolling it over in her mind, she was pretty sure she knew.

He was a replacement, too.

Wordlessly, Andra followed his gaze to the rising sun. Neither spoke for several minutes. And then Andra put a hand in her pocket, pulling out her iPod. She stuck one headphone in her ear and reached up to put the other one in Drizzt's. He glanced at her curiously, but she didn't explain. She tapped something from the music list, slid the device back into her pocket, and looked pointedly back at the pale-golden sky.

Immediately, Drizzt smiled. He turned his gaze back to the sunrise and they both stood in silence, listening to the iPod as the Classic Poetry Aloud guy recited The Solitary Reaper.

"…I list'nd till I had my fill;
And, as I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore
Long after it was heard no more."

"…Orpheus never did take to poetry," Drizzt mumbled. "I always loved it."

Andra released a deep breath. The forest sunrise brought with it a feeling of newness, of somehow letting go, being cleansed. It is the traditional symbolism of the sunrise, depending on imagery, and if the author wants it so, to carry such emotions along on its feathery clouds. This was not a storybook sunrise, though it matched every sky Salvatore's drow had ever sat and watched, in the days when he walked the surface alone. Somehow it was the same, and somehow, it was still new. It was original. It was theirs.

"Yeah," Andy answered at length. "Me too."

….

"And now we're grown-up orphans

That never knew our names.

We don't belong to no one—that's a shame.

You can hide beside me,

Maybe for a while.

And I won't tell no one your name."

At first, Andra had sort of wished they'd give her a horse and teach her how to ride. She'd need to learn eventually; in this world it was like driving. Except you didn't need a license, and most kids here learned to ride a horse at the age Earth kids were taking the training wheels off their bikes. But, as they stood on the edge of the cliff, staring out over the valley in which was settled the great dwarven stronghold, Andra was glad to be able to hide in Drizzt's cloak.

She clung close to him, fists clenched on handfuls of the forest green fabric. She was slowly falling in love with that cloak. She loved it more than her own, which she was wearing again today. It was extremely windy up on the high mountain overlooking Mithral Hall's valley. It had changed a little from the way it was in the book. From where she was, she could see a few double doors along the great stone wall. They were huge, but tiny compared to the magnificent gates—closed right now. There were tiny figures of dwarves far below, swarming around wagons and war-machines. Organized chaos.

"It's much more to look at from the inside," Wulfgar's voice said from the side. His horse passed them, with Cattie-Brie following. Catt tossed her a wry wink. They started down the trail cut into the mountainside. It was steep, windy, and rocky, but wide enough for caravans to travel.

Drizzt glanced over his shoulder. Andra's eyes were locked on the giant metal gates, far below at the valley floor. "You ready?"

Andra swallowed hard, licking her dry lips. Her fists tightened on Drizzt's cloak. "Yeah."

"…Andra."

"Yeah?"

"You're choking me."

"Oh—!" Andy let go immediately. He pulled at the cloak's string where it was tied at his neck. "Sorry…" Andy muttered.

But then, Drizzt laughed, the precious sound sweeping away (most of) her timidness and fear. "Come on, Andy. Your kingdom awaits."

"…Yeah."

Drizzt kicked the horse forward. Andy used it as a distraction to grab onto his cloak again. Mithral Hall sat far below, waiting like a milestone or a deadline to be met. They started down the sloping trail, and as they descended lower into the valley, the only thing she could think of was how hard it would be to get back out.

*A/N: OHMAN! Don't you guys just hate it? Just like me to take them all the way to Mithral Hall and then leave them at the door. ]

*I can't take credit for this quote. About the drowning thing. John Lennon said that.

* classicpoetryaloud .com is an awesome site where you can download free podcasts of classic poetry readings. Disclaimer: Classic Poetry Aloud and the poems there don't belong to me.

*Lyric headings: "I Belong" by Pete Yorn, "Anywhere" by Evanescence, "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls, "I'm With You" by Avril Lavigne, and "Name" by the Goo Goo Dolls.