The Graduation

The Homecoming

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Description:
Drizzt''s homecoming. How does his family react to his return?

Disclaimer:
This story is a work of fan fiction, written for fun but no profit, and uses characters, settings and some scenes from R. A. Salvatore''s first Dark Elf book, "Homeland", but rewrites them somewhat. Furthermore, the story includes graphic descriptions of sex as well
as intimations of incest. If you are a minor or feel offended by anything mentioned above, please go read something else entirely. This is just porn.

Notes:
This story is a continuation of "The Graduation". For those who haven''t read it (and why haven''t you?), Vierna''s attempt at seducing her brother during the graduation orgy at Tier Brache was successful, and Drizzt now supports Vierna''s plans of supplanting their mother and Briza, in order to save and possibly reform the House Do''urden.

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Feedback is most welcome at:
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Homecoming
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Drizzt''s graduation as the best warrior of his class was something of an anticlimax. Nobody asked him where he had gone during the ceremony; clearly, Vierna had been true to her word and somehow bribed or coerced her fellow priestess into ignoring Drizzt''s rejection of her advances.

In a similar fashion, Kelnozz''s absence was officially ignored; Hatch''net, reading the names of the graduates, merely paused for a beat when Kelnozz''s name would have been called, then continued with the next graduate. Drizzt could hear his fellow warriors
shifting and noticed some furtive signing behind the backs of their comrades, but nobody seemed to pay any particular attention to him; Kelnozz had made more enemies than just Drizzt in his time in Melee-Magthere.

In the relative bustle of Menzoberranzan, the whole episode felt more and more unreal. It was almost as if he had only dreamed of his sister, Drizzt thought as he approached the castle of House Do''urden in the southernmost part of the great cavern. Except for the
the cold, smooth shape of a magical amulet hanging from his neck beneath his clothes, he might have believed it.

Vierna had given the amulet to him just before the graduation ceremony; where his sister had gotten it from and how, Drizzt did not know, nor did he particularly want to. "It will make your mind blurred and hard to read until I can teach you the mental techniques to protect your thoughts," Vierna had told him. "Do not allow anyone to see it, or we will be lost!"

The guards at the gate had clearly been informed, and they bowed respectfully at Drizzt as they let him in. Briza was waiting for Drizzt at the main door of the castle; she was wearing a suit of chain mail under her robes and carrying her serpent whip with her, as
always. "Good to have you back home," she said curtly, neither her voice nor expression matching the words. "Follow me."

Home again, Drizzt thought as he followed his eldest sister into the castle. He had been gone for ten years; not a long time in the life of a drow, but enough to change the way he saw the world. Now the castle seemed just as alien as the Academy had been
when he had first arrived there.

They were soon joined by Maya, who looked the opposite of warlike Brize in her low-cut red silk dress; only the serpent whip in her hand indicated her position as a priestess of Lolth. "Welcome home, prince Drizzt," she said with a small, mock-solemn bow. "The word of your manly deeds has reached us, making House Do''Urden proud."

Drizzt''s heart skipped a beat, though he remained outwardly calm. Did Maya know something about him and Vierna, or was she merely commenting on his graduation in her sarcastic style? With an effort he kept his voice level and cool as he answered. "Thank you for your kind words, sister. I will always strive to bring honor to our house," Drizzt said.

Briza looked coldly at him but said nothing, and Maya subsided into silence as well. None of them spoke again until they reached the center of the castle: the chapel and its anteroom. Then Briza turned to look at Drizzt, her eyes hard and angry. "Vierna believes that
the Academy has brought you to your senses, but I doubt it."

"Dinin told us that there was some kind of an irregularity in the graduation," Maya said, emphasizing the word ''irregularity''. Drizzt knew, without looking, that there was a smirk on her face. "A missing graduate from one of the lesser houses, called your friend by some. What was his name again... Kalanozz, was it?"

Drizzt felt a faint tingling sensation at the edge of his consciousness. Simultaneously, the amulet hanging against his breast started throbbing with heat. Someone was trying to listen at his thoughts! Probably Briza, Drizzt thought, noticing the empty expression
on the face of her eldest sister. "Kelnozz," he said, both unable and unwilling to keep his disgust out of
his voice. "And he was no friend of mine!"

The tingling ended and the amulet cooled immediately. A more typical expression of sullen, suppressed anger and cruelty appeared on Briza''s face. "Your foolish vengeance could have hurt the entire House Do''urden!" she said in a harsh voice.

"Matron Malice would have been put in a very embarrassing position if you were found out," Maya added with a disapproving expression. "Not to mention losing a very valuable asset!"

Drizzt suppressed a grimace of anger. Her sisters could not have cared less that a drow had died; all that mattered to them was whether it hurt or helped their house. He didn''t care much for being praised as a ''very valuable asset'', either! "Forgive me,
sisters," he said, bowing low. "My eyes have at last opened to see the truth of our world. I assure you that I will strive to never bring shame to House Do''urden!"

Briza and Maya looked at him, surprised but also satisfied. Clearly, the Academy had changed Drizzt for the better. "Praised be the Queen of Spiders!" Briza said, her words echoed by Maya. "Praised be," Drizzt answered, his face turned downwards in a bow so that
neither of his sisters could see his bitter grin. Straightening, he opened the door and stepped into the anteroom where his mother was already waiting.

None of them noticed the tall figure that had been listening in one of the shadowy side corridors. Zaknafein had followed them unnoticed, studying Drizzt''s every word and movement, and trying to judge how the Academy had affected the young drow warrior.

He had had such great hopes for his son: Drizzt had always been different from other drow, starting with his strange eyes; eyes that had reminded Zaknafein of his own mother, long since dead. With Vierna, Zaknafein had had no chance of success; being female,
she had been destined to become a priestess. But with Drizzt, he had not given up.

Zaknafein had done his best to subtly teach his son the virtues of honesty, loyalty and fairness, hoping that he would not turn out like the majority of the drow: a cruel, ambitious and ruthless monster, worshiping a fickle demon-goddess. He had hoped that
at least some of his teachings had took root in Drizz''t''s heart deeply enough to survive the ten years in Melee-Magthere.

Now, it seemed that he his hopes had been in vain. Filled with despair, Zaknafein leaned against the wall of the corridor, slowly sliding down into a half-sitting crouch at the floor. His son was truly a drow warrior now -- a murderer!

*****

It was late in the night when the servant knocked on the door of the practice hall. Zaknafein paid no attention to the sound, instead finishing the complex series of movements with paired hatchets that he was practicing. It was the weapons-master''s usual way of
dealing with his desperation and depression: lose himself in the purity of the ideal battle, as he had done these last few days since Drizzt''s return.

The knocking repeated. Zaknafein frowned and moved to the door, keeping his footsteps quiet. He paused before the door, counting seconds in his mind, until he felt that the person outside was about to knock again. He yanked the door open, revealing one of the household''s slave servants -- a goblin eunuch, too weak to be a valuable warrior but useful in more domestic roles.

Startled by the sudden opening of the door, the goblin slave quickly stammered out its message. "M-matron Mother w-wishes to see the Weapons-m-master," it said, staring nervously at the sharp, wicked-looking hatchets in Zaknafein''s hands.

Knowing perfectly well what this was about, Zaknafein sighed. Even he -- especially he, in fact -- could not ignore the summons of Matron Malice. "Wait here while I change,"he said, starting to close the door, but the servant managed to interrupt him.

"P-pardon me, but Matron Mother c-commands you to come ''as you are''."

Zaknafein stared coldly at the slave, making it cringe. Then, with a slight smile, he stepped out into the corridor, hatchets still in hand. "If that is her wish, I certainly cannot disobey," he said, noticing with some satisfaction the horrified expression on the
goblin''s face; the creature knew that it would surely be flogged for bringing Zaknafein into Matron Mother''s boudoir armed. Yet what could it do? "Lead the way!" Zaknafein commanded; whimpering, the goblin obeyed.

The maze-like corridors of House Do''urden''s castle were deserted except for Zaknafein and the hapless goblin. Even with Drizzt''s return, only about one third of the rooms were occupied, and the chance of meeting anyone else at this time of the night was slight indeed. Occasionally, in his melancholy moments, Zaknafein thought that the household was Menzoberranzan in miniature: everyone was crouching in their own rooms, distrusting everyone else and vying for station and power.

A slight sound from the side passage they passed brought Zaknafein out of his gloomy thoughts and back into the present. It was overwhelmingly likely that the sound had been nothing at all, but Zaknafein was an expert at surviving in Menzoberranzan, and did not discount the possibility of danger, however small.

He shifted his grip on the handles of his hatchets, while his mind raced through the possible threats. Malice or her daughters would not stalk him in the corridors; if they wanted to get rid of him, they would come for him openly. Rizzen was a possibility;
the consort was a capable warrior, and he had been getting ideas about his position in the last decades. Dinin was another possibility; not only was the Do''urden elderboy a better fighter than his father, he had already displayed a preference for backstabbing. And it could always be Drizzt, as well.

The thought sickened Zaknafein, but he could not deny its aptness. His son was an excellent fighter; although he did not have Dinin''s experience, Drizzt had extraordinary natural talent, and could in time become Zaknafein''s equal, quite possibly his superior.
And he had killed by stealth, too... The tension he was feeling was becoming too much for Zaknafein to bear. Taking one more step, he suddenly spun around, ready to either attack or to defend, as needed.

It was hard to say who was more surprised, himself or the person he saw, caught in the middle of the main corridor as she was crossing it. Vierna froze in place for a second, staring at him, her red eyes wide open in fright. Then, like a shadow, she was gone in
another side passage, only the quiet hiss of her spider-silk gown and the almost-silent patter of her bare feet on the stone floor indicating that she had been there at all.

"Master? Is something wrong?"

The goblin''s words shook Zaknafein out of his surprise. "Nothing," he answered slowly. "I thought... Never mind. Carry on," he said, turning away from the corridor where his daughter had vanished into. No doubt she was plotting something. Well, her secret was
safe with him; the priestesses could weave their webs of deceit and back-stabbing freely, for all that Zaknafein cared.

*****

Matron Mother''s personal rooms were located in the heart of the Do''urden castle, close to but separate from the chapel and its anteroom, accessible through only one door that Zaknafein knew of. He was certain that there was at least one secret passage leading to Malice''s chambers, but decades of diligent, if circumspect, searching around the castle had not revealed the hidden door. Given the early and unexpected death of old Matron Vartha, it was even possible that Malice herself didn''t know the location of the secret door.

The slave, quaking with fear, rang the small bell hanging above Malice''s door. "W-weapons-master is h-here, Matron M-mother," the creature announced nervously.

The warding glyphs etched into the flimsy dark wood of the door glimmered momentarily. "You may enter, Zaknafein," Malice''s voice floated from behind the door. Zaknafein paused to slip his hatchets into his belt; he knew fairly well how far he could goad Malice
before her temper would overcome her better judgement, and sauntering into her bedroom, weapons in hand, would have been foolhardy in the extreme. And despite his current depression, Zaknafein was not one to risk his life pointlessly. Straightening his shoulders, he opened the door and stepped inside.

Malice''s bedroom was not very large, an oval only about twenty feet wide and thirty feet long, but the sumptuous furnishings left no doubt about whom it belonged to. The smooth, black stone floor was covered by thick rugs and furs, while the bed itself was
carved from dark wood into the shape of a monstrous spider. Low tables and tall chests of similar dark wood, inlaid with precious metals and lizard ivory, were the only other furniture. Two doors, one leading to Malice''s personal treasury and the other to her
combined study and meditation chamber, were covered by black curtains of spider silk; the rest of the walls were completely bare. Zaknafein wondered if Malice ever stayed awake at night, scanning the bare walls of her room, looking for any cracks that could widen into a secret door, letting an assassin in. He hoped so.

The Matron Mother herself was reclining on her bed, dressed in nothing but a short, almost translucent nightgown of violet silk. The contrast between her blue-black skin and the silvery-white sheets of undyed spider silk was startling, no doubt just as Malice had
intended.

She immediately noticed Zaknafein''s hatchets, her expression darkening. "You dare to come into my chambers armed?!" Malice asked in a voice as incredulous as it was angry. She started reaching for the serpent whip laying coiled on her nightstand, but
slowly enough to allow Zaknafein time to explain.

"My apologies, Matron Malice," he said, mixing just the right amount of insolence with contrition in his voice. "I was practicing with hatchets when your command reached me. I intended to change for a more proper attire --" Zaknafein gestured at his old
practice pants and simple, open vest "-- but your command left me little latitude, and your slave was very insistent about it. If you wish, I will immediately go change--"

"Be silent!" Malice snapped, and Zaknafein immediately obeyed. His head was obediently bowed, but given the way he was standing and Malice reclining, he could study the Matron Mother easily while she fumed. The sight wasn''t unattractive at all; Malice was nearly a century older than he was, but neither that nor the fact that she had given birth to six children showed in her body. Smaller than Briza and with fuller figure than Maya, of her daughters she physically resembled Vierna the most.

Zaknafein felt his body reacting with familiar lust to the sight of Malice''s thinly veiled curves, and silently cursed his traitorous cock. He hated and despised Malice, who returned those feelings fully; despite this, or perhaps because of that, sex with her was easily the best that he had ever had, and the fact that Malice kept still calling him into her bed after over a century and countless lovers indicated that she felt the same way.

Her lust finally overcoming her anger, Malice relaxed, her eyes running up and down the weapons-master''s body but always returning to the easily visible bulge in Zaknafein''s loose pants. The familiar, hungry smile spread on her lips as she spoke. "Your clothes are
indeed improper. Take them off; I want to see you naked." Silently, Zaknafein started to obey.

*****

The quiet but insistent knocking on the door roused Drizzt from his trance. He had been dreaming of his time in the Academy, the heights and lows of ten years passing before his mind''s eye with the detached clarity of drow dreams, culminating in the memorable
meeting between him and Vierna.

Shaking the memories from his head, Drizzt got out of his bed, hastily pulling a robe over himself to cover both his nakedness and the amulet hanging around his neck. He was halfway to the door when his gaze fell upon his dagger, lying in its sheath on his desk. He hesitated for a second, then decided against picking the dagger up and opened the door.

Seeing Vierna, he wondered if he had come out of his trance after all. She proved to be real, however, when she pushed him aside, slipping hastily into his room. Drizzt closed the door and turned to look at his midnight visitor, surprised, pleased and alarmed at
the same time.

Much like the last time Drizzt had seen her up close, Vierna was rather skimpily dressed. Instead of the black, web-patterned ceremonial robes of the Academy matriarch-teacher, she wore a short nightgown of green spider-silk, reaching barely to her mid-thighs, and a dark cloak held closed at the throat by a simple silver clasp.

Trying to ignore their respective states of undress, and finding it much easier without the presence of the intoxicating incense, Drizzt pulled a chair for his sister and sat down on his bed. *What is happening? Why are you here, Vierna?* he asked in the silent sign
language used by the drow. *I thought you and Dinin would continue teaching at the Academy?*

*We were recalled by Matron Malice,* Vierna signed back to him. *Our situation is dangerous; she has overreached, and now we are open to threats. Everyone is needed if we wish to survive through the coming months and years.*

Drizzt sat up straighter, looking alarmed. *Is the situation so dangerous?* he asked.

Vierna nodded. *There have been rumors in the city, and our auguries have shown approaching danger. Someone is scheming against House Do''urden, with deadly intentions!*

Drizzt digested the information in silence. During his time in the Academy, he had learned more about scheming and plotting than he had ever wanted to, so this wasn''t entirely unexpected. Still, this was an unfamiliar situation to him; previously, when someone
had plotted against him, it had been in the relatively straightforward context of Melee-Magthere''s training battles.

*What do we do, then?* he finally asked in sign language.

Vierna smiled at him, the sight causing strange flutters in his chest. *What would you do, Drizzt?* she asked.

The question was unexpected; in Drizzt''s experience, the priestesses did not care what anyone else thought or wanted. Of course, with Vierna, things were different, and anyway, this was a question which his education qualified him to answer to. *First of all, I
would heighten the security at the castle, doubling the guards at the gate and the towers,* he began. *Then I would make sure that no house member leaves the castle alone; that would make it harder to ambush us. Next, I would try to find out--*

He stopped as Vierna unclasped her cloak, letting it slide to the floor beside her chair. *Go on,* she gestured.

Drizzt tore his gaze off from her silk-covered bosom and turned his mind firmly back to matters of defense. *As I said, I would find out who was threatening us. Then I would try to negotiate with them, trying to convince them that they cannot win against us, while
preparing to defend ourselves at the same time.*

Vierna sighed. *I expected you to say something like that, Drizzt. You must not repeat that opinion in front of Matron Malice or the others! They would think you were naive.* Drizzt had the unpleasant feeling that Vierna shared that opinion. *Even worse, they
would think you were weak! Understand this, Drizzt: unorthodoxy can be tolerated; even occasional insolence is accepted, coming from valuable males; but weakness is never accepted!*

Drizzt frowned. "Do you believe it would be weakness to negotiate, to try and avoid a needless battle where many soldiers, ours and theirs alike, would certainly die?" he asked aloud, forgetting to sign. "To be so afraid of appearing weak... isn''t that the greatest weakness?"

"I know what our mother would think!" Vierna hissed back at Drizzt. "And as long as she is the Matron Mother, in the end only what she thinks does matter! If you understand what is good for us, you will not make her angry!"

They glared at each other in silence for several long seconds. Finally, Vierna spoke in a quiet but passionate voice. "I think you are right, Drizzt. We have in just my lifetime risen from the thirteenth House to the ninth; we''ve gotten too high, too fast. There must come a change to that. But not just yet."

"When?" Drizzt asked in a whisper, leaning closer, his purple eyes looking into Vierna''s red eyes.

"Soon," she whispered back, breathless. "Soon. Let Matron Malice handle this one last threat. If she succeeds, she paves way for the change; if she starts to fail... we are prepared."

Their lips touched in a kiss. Without the drugged incense, the sensation was different; not quite as intense, perhaps, but infinitely more nuanced, more real, more delightful. Suddenly, all the restraints
seemed to vanish. Their tongues slipping into each
others mouth, they pulled each other into a close
embrace.

*****

Standing rigidly at Malice''s bedside, Zaknafein looked more like a stone statue than a living drow as he watched the scene before him with half-lidded eyes. Only the beads of sweat on his forehead and bare chest, and the occasional twitch of his erect cock indicated that he was alive.

"Aaahh... Mmmm... This feels sooo good..." Malice''s voice was hoarse with passion as she writhed on her bed, just like her serpent whip, its carved handle pushed into her cunt, was doing. With each spasm of her inner walls, the semi-intelligent whip lashed out,
triggering new contractions as its scaly body flailed against Malice''s clit. Known among the cult of Lolth as snake riding, this was the favorite pastime of many of those priestesses who, like Malice, did not care for the company of their colleagues. For any
non-priestess to even suggest that such a thing could be done was blasphemous, but as always, the will and the law of Lolth were two different things.

With a long, shuddering moan, Malice came, the serpent whip between her legs flailing wildly against her thighs and belly before going suddenly limp. Sighing with satisfaction, she pulled the whip''s handle out of her body and looked at Zaknafein. "You must be feeling quite useless, standing there, don''t you?" Malice asked. "Do not worry; I know exactly what will change that. Now, bend over..."

Zaknafein groaned, but did as he was told. He had known that this, or something similar, was coming, even before Malice had started playing with her whip. Rizzen, despite being hung like a bugbear, was too submissive to satisfy Malice in the long run; besides, tormenting him just hurt his ability to performe, whereas Zaknafein, rife with internal conflicts and self-loathing, could be goaded to unusual heights.

He felt the tip of the whip''s handle, still warm and slick with Malice''s juices, press against his asshole, and tried to relax. Despite this, he couldn''t help grunting from pain as Malice pushed the whip through his sphincter. This just made Malice chuckle and rotate the rod inside his ass. Its tip suddenly poked at his prostate, whether accidentally or with purpose, causing Zaknafein to groan loudly.

Satisfied, Malice flung herself back on the bed, spreading her legs wide. "Fuck me, Zaknafein! And if you are good, I may let you have more..." she said, dipping her fingers into her still-wet cunt and rubbing them meaningfully against her asshole.

Moving stiffly, hating the feeling of the limp serpent whip slapping against his thighs, Zaknafein lowered himself onto Malice, his cock sliding easily into her open pussy. Immediately, the whip came alive, the handle twitching inside him. "I will make you rethink
that promise, Malice," he grunted and thrust hard, driving himself deeper into the Matron Mother and making her gasp.

*****

Finally, Vierna broke the kiss. "Not here," she whispered to Drizzt. "Never in the castle. It is too dangerous." She caressed his ears with her hands, looking closely into his eyes. "Too dangerous," Vierna repeated. "I must go. But I will think of you, Drizzt,
all the way back to my room and to my bed. I will think of you when I come. You do the same, dear brother, and wait for another opportunity."

Vierna pulled away from Drizzt and leaned over to pick up her cloak, intentionally giving him a good look at her breasts beneath her nightgown. She gave him a sudden, quick kiss on his cheek, then stood up and left, leaving Drizzt sitting on his bed alone.

Drizzt did not need urging to think about Vierna, and what had happened here. Her warnings about the threat to their family troubled him, but they paled in contrast to the memory of Vierna''s presence; her kiss and their embrace. Clearly, the attraction between
them was genuine, and not only due to the mind-affecting incense; Drizzt was not certain whether to be glad or disturbed by this.

Changing into a more comfortable position, Drizzt thought about the feel of Vierna''s breasts, pressing against him. Toying with his ear with one hand, he started licking the palm and fingers of the other. Grasping his half-erect cock with his spit-slickened
hand, he started to masturbate.

Images of Vierna passed through his mind as he slowly picked up the pace. Strangely, his mind did not linger longest on the memories from the orgy, but rather on other, less explicit images. Looking back now, there had always been a connection between them, Drizzt thought; decades ago, he had gotten the first erection he could remember when he had blundered into the baths
and found Vierna there, naked.

His hand moving faster around his cock, Drizzt''s thoughts moved back to more recent events, concentrating on the image of Vierna kneeling before him, taking his cock into her mouth. Closing his eyes, he licked the fingertips of his free hand, then started to rub with them around his cockhead while the other hand massaged the shaft.

His memory turned into a fantasy, now; he saw himself pulling his cock out of Vierna''s mouth and starting to rapidly jerk it, while she looked up at him, her mouth open and eyes half-lidded. Feeling the tension building in his belly, Drizzt imagined his
ejaculation, white semen splattering on his sister''s uplifted, ebony-dark face and into her open mouth... With a muffled groan, he came in reality, hot jism hitting his hand with spatters landing on his legs. Panting quietly, Drizzt cleaned himself up with a
handkerchief, and lay back on his bed. Tonight, he would not see Vierna any more, either in flesh or in his dreams.

*****

Sex between Malice and Zaknafein was never lovemaking; it was a harsh, even brutal fuck. This time was no exception to this.

Spurred on both by his hatred and by the serpent whip twisting in his ass, Zaknafein pounded hard into her, his face contorted in a grimace of lust and hate. Malice replied in kind, moaning and snarling under him, her fingernails raking his back till they drew
blood.

"Harder! Nghh.. ah! Yes, more, more of that! Rrrgh! Faster, yesss!" Zaknafein gladly followed Malice''s increasingly incoherent demands, using both his weight and considerable strength to drive himself into her. The whip inside him was a twisting, throbbing rod of heat, its blunt handle prodding his prostate almost painfully hard.

She was bucking under him now, her pussy, hot and wet from her agitation, squeezing his cock tightly. Zaknafein felt his own orgasm approaching fast, hoping to make Malice climax before coming himself; if her satisfaction was denied or delayed, she could be quite
inventively nasty in punishing her bedmates.

Malice suddenly opened her eyes and looked straight at him. "Our son," she gasped, a peculiar expression on her face. "Drizzt... he told me everything. He... killed him! Dagger into the heart! In vengeance!" Her words had the desired effect, driving Zaknafein over
the edge into a desperate rage. Losing all control, he rammed his cock into her with all his strength and came, again and again, as she orgasmed.

When Zaknafein slowly returned to his senses, he was still laying on Malice, his softening cock nestled inside her. "I thought you should know," she said in a hoarse voice, the expression on her face one of evil satisfaction. He did not respond, not even when she
yanked the now-calmed serpent whip from his ass.

"You were quite satisfying, Zaknafein," she purred, "but I''m a bit tired, now. Perhaps I will take you in my behind some other night. Good night to you, weaponmaster."

Stiffly, Zaknafein gathered his discarded clothes and weapons and left the boudoir, leaving the gloating matron mother on her rumpled silk sheets behind. Only when the door with its enchantments was securely between them, did he finally allow his tears to flow.

*****

Author''s pointless note: In the discussion w. Drizzt, Maya is making a pun. Kelnozz''s name means, roughly, "Legendary Gambler" or someone who takes great risks, while Kalanozz means "Gambler Lost", ie. missing or having lost.