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[Solanaceae]

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One by one Solanaceae lit the candles around the room while Shri'hrae dressed herself for bed. It was fortunate that the palace servants had been able to find suitable sleep attire, since none of the little priestess’ clothing would be fitting anyone but her future children.

Little. Not so little anymore. Solanaceae grit her teeth and kept her back to the women she’d come to think of as a sister. So much had been taken from her, her childhood, her culture, a full relationship with her mother and father, experiences she should have had, frivolous things and meaningful things…All these were ripped away from Shri'hrae and still, she clung to loyalties with those who kept her captive, who took these treasures of life from her.

Solanaceae muttered answers to Shri'hrae’s question in a weary tone, at the same time chiding herself for dwelling on her rage. They were home now…she, Shri'hrae was home now, she corrected herself. Solanaceae was here only at the Herald’s request and at the Patron’s allowance, no matter the blood that was now a part of her, no matter the bond she shared with the daughter of their house, in the end when she was no longer needed she would hold no more interest to the drow royals. It didn’t matter. Now that Shri'hrae was home she didn’t need the mentorship and protection of a dream sister, what she needed was to get to know her culture and her real family again, the family that had been cheated of sharing Shri'hrae’s life for a century.

Shri'hrae crawled into bed and Solanaceae pulled a wide armed chair up to the bed, before turning down the black spider silk covers and tucking Shri'hrae in. Every motion the drow woman made showed her exhaustion and physical discomfort. The tea had likely helped some, but real rest and time to heal would be the best cure for her. Solanaceae drew symbols in the air and sent energy through the weave, smiling when hissing voices responded to her call without hesitation. In moments three black spiders, the size of a child’s fist, scrambled into the room over the sill of the open window and finally came to rest at Solanaceae’s feet.

“You are to guard my sister. Respond to no commands but mine and hers.” Solanaceae ordered in the language of the spiders. “If some tries to hurt her, there is no mercy. They are to be dead before their body can reach the floor. Understood?” She received a noisy response as the spiders spoke in unison. “Excellent then. To your posts.”

The trio of spider sisters climbed the bed posts and each took up position across the headboard. Solanaceae explained to Shri'hrae that she would know how to speak to them just as Solanaceae had learned drow, through the link they shared. The spiders would make fine protectors, with the intelligence of well-trained guard dogs they could follow simple commands and make basic tactical decisions. She wasn’t sure how the Matron or Patron would feel about the command she’d given the spiders, but now that her sister had returned Solanaceae would let no one threaten the priestess’ freedom or well being again, even her own family.

Once she was certain Shri'hrae was well settled into bed, Solanaceae settled in the chair beside the priestess and pulled her cloak around her body. The spiders had already begun to build webs in the carved shaped of the headboard, and while Solanaceae watched them work, Shri'hrae’s breathing became more slow and steady. While listening to the woman’s breathing, Solanaceae drew a box from the pocket of her robes and set it in her lap. She opened the lid and inside was a set of nine tiny crystal vials, each cradled in soft pockets within the box.

Solanaceae allowed her mind to drift, her thought seeking out the emotions held in check this evening. Now she’d let them come, a gift to her sister, to create a gift that could be harvested for Shri'hrae to use as she served the house of the Matron, the House Qu'ellar D' Alean'und. Each tear was carefully guided inside by the edge of the vials until six were filled with the bright yellow translucent liquid that was her venomous tears. With its strong hallucinogenic affects and sleep inducing properties, the right dosage could serve a great many of Shri'hrae’s future needs. The last three vials were filled with her dark green blood. This would be death in even small amounts for any mortal who dared cross her sister. Even with the link Shri'hrae would have to learn to use these properly, but few beside Solanaceae herself would understand their full value.

She secured the vials into the padded box and closed them away in the drawer of the bed side cabinet. The drow blood affected the fae’s body, there was no denying that, but luckily for Shri'hrae the shared maternal bloodline didn’t cast away things like compassion as it seemed was the drow way. Perhaps the Matron and her kin would see Solanaceae as weak for her emotions, unworthy for her compassion, but without such things she would never have opened herself up to the bond with Shri'hrae, leaving herself vulnerable and suffering. Without her compassion she wouldn’t have risked death in the desert, simply to serve as a guide, a mentor to Shri'hrae within the abyss. Without the compassion the drow seemed to revile, that much of the Order detested, without it Shri'hrae might never have found her way home.

Her evening’s tasks complete, Solanaceae closed her eyes and settled back in the chair. Her energy reserves were long spent and as she lay there, waiting for sleep to take her, her mind rambled as is common with the overtired and the insane. Some days she was certain she was much more of the latter since she began the journey on the Path of Oblivion. She mad mental notes to send word to Mari to look after the plants for a while longer. There was no telling when she’d be able to fulfill the Herald’s task to take Shri'hrae before the Lich Lord.

Part of her wished the Matron or Patron wouldn’t allow the meeting, Solanaceae disliked the idea of her sister being left to Darien Church’s unstable whims for any time, but until the task was fulfilled Solanaceae remained no more than Shri'hrae’s shadow, a person in the house with no real value, no station to speak out. As much as she cared for Shri'hrae, she couldn’t exist for too long as her shadow either. She sighed. In truth her comfort and feeling had little to do with the matter. She would serve as she always did, and when the drow tired of her presence she would be case away. It was the mature of things. For now she waited, she watched…

And for tonight, she could rest peacefully, knowing her Shri'hrae was safe at last.