Drizzt appreciates that she's taking time to consider his question. The answer leaves him surprised and confused. And most definitely worried.
The Arcana—Lovers is named PSYCHE—will be matched against each other. A proxy war by the way of their Champions. Drizzt cannot understand why they have chosen this path, and indeed, he has a good mind to get angry about being used in such a way. They are gods, or something like that, and he merely hopes he just doesn't understand. He hopes. Drizzt reminds himself that they send them to worlds needing their help—he has to remember that.
But he has another hope. There's a chance that he can bring Zaknafein home with him. It requires winning whatever this is. Except that's not possibly the only case—Zaknafein will want the same if Lovers wins. Two chances. Or more, perhaps, if he befriends enough people, even if he would not wish to be such a burden on them—but for this one chance to have his father back, he will be willing to rely on the help of those around him.
He has to hope that.
Drizzt just wants to bring his father home.
"Zaknafein would kill himself before harming me," Drizzt states quietly, trying not to remember the view of his father falling into the acid pool. "He has already given his life twice to save mine, and would die a thousand times more if it would keep me safe. Even a non-violent contest he would likely forfeit. Lovers' Mark is apt, not just because of Elphaba."
He swallows, his throat constricting as he finds his eyesight blurry; Drizzt looks down at his feet to hide his expression of pain. "I-If we both fail, and none will aid us through their own Trump... Please let his return to... to death be painless, I beg of you. I do not understand this game you are playing with our lives, or why, but if I lose, please grant me that one favor."
no subject
The Arcana—Lovers is named PSYCHE—will be matched against each other. A proxy war by the way of their Champions. Drizzt cannot understand why they have chosen this path, and indeed, he has a good mind to get angry about being used in such a way. They are gods, or something like that, and he merely hopes he just doesn't understand. He hopes. Drizzt reminds himself that they send them to worlds needing their help—he has to remember that.
But he has another hope. There's a chance that he can bring Zaknafein home with him. It requires winning whatever this is. Except that's not possibly the only case—Zaknafein will want the same if Lovers wins. Two chances. Or more, perhaps, if he befriends enough people, even if he would not wish to be such a burden on them—but for this one chance to have his father back, he will be willing to rely on the help of those around him.
He has to hope that.
Drizzt just wants to bring his father home.
"Zaknafein would kill himself before harming me," Drizzt states quietly, trying not to remember the view of his father falling into the acid pool. "He has already given his life twice to save mine, and would die a thousand times more if it would keep me safe. Even a non-violent contest he would likely forfeit. Lovers' Mark is apt, not just because of Elphaba."
He swallows, his throat constricting as he finds his eyesight blurry; Drizzt looks down at his feet to hide his expression of pain. "I-If we both fail, and none will aid us through their own Trump... Please let his return to... to death be painless, I beg of you. I do not understand this game you are playing with our lives, or why, but if I lose, please grant me that one favor."
Drizzt just wants to bring his father home.
"Please."