Author's Note: This was originally intended to be a flashback in Chapter 6 of What Matters The Most, but it expanded. I think I've managed to contain it at short story level – about four chapters.

With WMTM rolling onward with no end in sight, I thought that it might be nice to finish something. Other such side trips may follow as they suggest themselves. If nothing else, it'll give me something to work on when I run into a brick wall with the main story. Hope you like it.

A couple of minor changes to this chapter, mainly dealing with bringing Dynaheir's dialect up to Dominique's exacting standards (sheesh, woman, do you know how bloody long it's been since I've played BG1? I'm flying this thing by the seat of my pants!)

"Another sewer?" Jaheira complained as she followed Jessime into the weapon merchant's shop. "Why must you continually drag us through such filthy places?"

"Three reasons," Jess replied shortly. "It's easy, it's quick and it pays."

"I do not know that we need money so badly," the druid grumbled. "It is bad enough that we must spend so much time in this city. Could you not at least find us employment above ground?"

"We've only been here for a week, Jaheira," Jess reminded her. "And with current prices, we're going to go broke by sunset if we don't bring in some coin."

"Another reason to avoid cities," Jaheira sniffed disdainfully. "The cost of food and lodging is outrageous. Even the merchants of Beregost did not gouge their customers so badly."

Jess held her temper with an effort. "This is where the trail of the Iron Throne has led us, so this is where we stay until we can get more information – unless you like having your weapons disintegrate in your hands."

Her logic obviously did not appeal to the druid, who opened her mouth to continue her litany of complaint.

Jess cut her off. "Enough! This is the opportunity that has presented itself, and I took it. Am I the leader of this group or not?"

Jaheira glared at her. "Of course, omnipresent authority figure," she snapped in a voice laden with sarcasm. Jess returned the glare, a heated retort forming on her lips.

"I like it here," Imoen piped up cheerfully as she appeared at Jess' elbow.

The tall warrior glanced down at the little thief. "You'll like it a lot less if the Flaming Fist catches you picking pockets," she warned, though without rancor. She knew the reason for the interruption.

Imoen grinned impishly. "They gotta catch me at it first – and then they gotta catch me!"

Jess returned the grin in spite of herself. Glancing at Jaheira, she saw the druid shaking her head in half-amused resignation, raising one eyebrow in an unvoiced question that Jess understood immediately: Truce?

Jess shrugged, then nodded, knowing that her reply would be likewise understood: Truce…for now.

Jaheira nodded curtly and turned away. Jess immediately turned her attention to evaluating the rack of swords before her. The replacement of weapons destroyed by the iron rot, plus the necessity of keeping backup weapons always on hand, was another expense that was rapidly adding up. She picked up a longsword, squinting down the blade, searching for any hint of deterioration. Satisfied, she laid it to one side, picking up another.

"Sure wish you two wouldn't fight," Imoen said carefully, examining a short sword.

"Don't start," Jess warned, scowling at her.

Imoen was unaffected. "It doesn't do anything but get you both mad, and then the rest of us have to watch you both stomping around."

"Then get her to stop second-guessing everything I do!" Jess snapped irritably. "I can't even sneeze without hearing how I'm doing it wrong."

"That's what she's supposed to do," Imoen answered. "She and Khalid told Gorion they'd look after you."

"I don't need looking after!" Jess growled. "Maybe I did at first – all right, I did at first," she amended hastily, seeing Imoen roll her eyes, "although you weren't any better."

"At least I had the sense to stay hidden and attack from behind," Imoen said. "Who was it who tried to take on a whole squad of orcs on her own three days out from the Friendly Arms?"

"It worked, didn't it?" Jess retorted, flushing at the memory.

"Only because Jaheira and Khalid were there to back you up. And me, of course," Imoen added modestly, buffing her fingernails on the shoulder of her tunic.

Jess brushed mahogany hair out of her eyes, combing it back with the fingers of her hand, glaring at her friend, then gave up; she couldn't get mad at Imoen. "All right, I needed looking after more than you did – then. But, dammit, I can best Jaheira better than half the time when we practice, and Khalid almost as much!"

"Leading is more than fighting, Jess," Imoen observed.

"You think I don't know that?" Jess demanded. "It's also making sure that our damn weapons don't fall apart in the middle of a fight for our lives, or that if they do, we have some for backup. It's also making sure that we have enough money to eat and sleep somewhere besides the streets, which means taking crappy jobs if that's all that's available, and then listening to that damn druid bitch about it."

"She's not going to be the only one," Imoen observed, her eyes going to a point behind Jess. Turning, Jess saw Dynahier bearing down on her purposefully.

"Jessime, Minsc informs me that thou hast found gainful employment for us," the dusky skinned mage announced as she swept up. From the corner of her eye, Jess saw Imoen withdrawing with an amused smirk on her lips. "'Tis my hope that it will provide sufficient recompense to allow us to relocate from our current accommodations." The fastidious Rashemi witch had been less than pleased with the inn that their present finances allowed them to stay in.

And she's going to be thrilled about this, Jess thought, bracing herself. "It's a start, at least, Dynahier," she told her. "The – sanitation workers – of Baldur's Gate have been having trouble with carrion crawlers, and they've asked us to deal with them."

"Sanitation workers? Thou speak of the sewer cleaners?" While Dynahier was nowhere near as vocal as Jaheira, it was amazing just how much she could express with the imperious arch of one eyebrow. "Sewers, indeed," she sighed, her expression growing martyred. "Jessime, thy ambitions are far too small! A group as skilled as ours should be receiving only the most prestigious commissions!"

"We've got to start somewhere, Dynahier," Jess explained. "Once we get a reputation here – which won't be long – the jobs will start improving. We'll move to a better inn as soon as we can, I promise."

The mage sighed again. "It cannot happen too soon," she replied, "and while I do not relish the notion of wading through the refuse of this city," she punctuated her words with a delicate shudder, "thou art likely correct; we must provide evidence of our skill in small endeavors before we shall be entrusted with larger ones. But mistake me not, Jessime," her dark eyes fixed Jess with a piercing gaze, "we are above this task."

"You'll get no argument from me on that score," Jess replied with a smile, as the mage drifted toward a display of staffs.

"That went well," Imoen murmured behind her, echoing her thoughts. "I thought she'd go up in smoke at the idea."

"So did I," Jess replied. "Nice to know that someone trusts my judgment."

Imoen smacked her smartly upside the head. "Stop that!" she said, her voice uncharacteristically sharp. "You know I trust you."

"I know that," Jess admitted.

"And Minsc and Khalid trust you, don't they?" Imoen pressed.

"Minsc trusts anyone," Jess snorted, "as long as Boo tells him to. And Khalid is – well, he's Khalid."

Imoen smacked her again. "Then if four of the five of your merry little group trust you, why are you letting yourself get bent out of shape over one, you goof?"

"Dammit, Im, that hurts!" Jess yelped, rubbing her head where Imoen had struck her.

"Wimp," Imoen smirked.

"I am not!"

"Are too!" the thief crowed in a singsong voice, eyes dancing with mischief.

"Oh, gods, Im, don't start that right now!" Jess exclaimed, but she found herself smiling in response to her friend's teasing.

"I won't if you stop being such a stick in the mud. Promise?"

"Promise," Jess agreed, knowing that the alternative was a scene right out of their preteen years at Candlekeep. "Now why don't you make yourself useful as well as annoying and see if they've got any sharpening stones?"

"No problem," Imoen replied cheerfully.

"And pay for them, dammit!" Jess added before Imoen could leave, her voice pitched low enough that only the thief could hear her.

"You never let me have any fun," Imoen pouted as she walked away, but Jess knew that she would comply.

She turned back to her inspection of the swords, feeling much of her improved mood vanish along with her friend. Imoen had always been able to push back her darkest moods, but since Gorion's death, the dark moods had become darker, harder to banish. Small things would cause her temper to flare up, which was, she admitted to herself, part of the reason for her stormy relationship with Jaheira. The criticisms that Imoen took in stride would goad Jess into an icy rage. Part of the reason that her fighting had improved as much as it had over the past year and a half was her determination to do something that the druid would not be able to find fault with.

Not that it's happened so far, she thought moodily. Nothing is ever quite good enough, which brings you back to Imoen's question: why do you give a damn about gaining approval from someone who's obviously never going to give it to you? What does it matter?

"Jess?" Minsc loomed over her, Boo perched on his shoulder. "Can I get some of these arrows? Boo thinks they would work well on our mission tonight."

"Sure, Minsc," Jess replied absently, lost in her own musings. "Whatever you need, just stay within our budget."

"Okay," the big man said happily, turning to bear down on the apprehensive looking shopkeeper with his merchandise in hand.

Jess barely noticed his departure. When you get right down to it, why do you stick around at all? You and Imoen would do just fine on your own now, and with a lot fewer headaches.

The thought lacked conviction, however, and Jess knew that she would not act on it. It was true that she and Imoen could survive on their own, but tracking down the Iron Throne would require the skills of the whole group, and it was not a mission that she would abandon. It was not just about ending the iron rot that was plaguing the Sword Coast; it had become increasingly obvious that Gorion's murder led back to the Iron Throne, as well, for reasons unknown. Jess would do whatever it took to track down the killers of the man who had been the only father she had ever known – even if it meant putting up with the sarcastic comments of a know-it-all druid.

But that's not the whole reason, is it? Jess admitted to herself. Gorion wanted you to be with them: Khalid and Jaheira both. She still missed the elderly mage desperately; the necessity of leaving his body unburied outside of Candlekeep was a guilt that gnawed at her. Gorion had known the two half-elves, had thought highly enough of them that he had left Jessime in their care. In a world that had become a constant barrage of uncertainty and upheaval, the pair were a link, however tenuous, to the memory of stability and safety.

Khalid had largely assumed the mentor's role that had been left vacant with Gorion's death. Despite the stutter, he was as calm as his wife was volatile, and possessed of apparently inexhaustible patience. He was also an extraordinarily skilled fighter, equally competent with sword or bow, and was more than willing to teach those skills, as well as myriad others that he had learned in his twenty year career as a ranger and a Harper.

He preferred to remain in the background, and to the casual observer, it might seem that he deferred to his more outspoken spouse. Jess, however, did not miss the frequent glances that passed between the two, or the fact that Jaheira seldom proposed a course of action without a nod of approval from her husband.

Jess had come to rely upon Khalid as someone she could talk to, seek advice from, and entrust with her doubts and fears. She did not want to lose that. So you'll just have to live with Jaheira, she told herself. You don't have to like her, but you do have a lot that you still need to learn from her. Sooner or later, if you keep working, you're bound to get good enough that she'll at least quit bitching.

You hope.