I have been a fan of NWN for about two years now, and just recently fell in love with the game again. I know it's geeky, but here it is: my first ever fanfiction for anything other than a book. Enjoy.


Prologue

The city of Neverwinter was shrouded in mist, a curtain of dark clouds hanging low over the midnight sky. Lord Nasher's spymaster stood silently by the silver window, blending seamlessly with the shadows. The night was quiet, the air fresh and cool, and Aarin Gend had many duties to be fulfilling, but he did not move.

Something is wrong.

A spy does not develop a habit of speaking to himself aloud, so Aarin Gend thought this over silently. More minutes passed.

The city is peaceful…the invaders are gone…but something is wrong.

Then came a noise outside the door of his room. It was so soft that another man would have missed it; Aarin, however, was a spymaster, and he missed nothing. Running footsteps, swift and silent, the run of a barefoot tread.

He crossed the room, opened the door, and stood on the threshold. Around the turn in the corridor, a brief flash of silver disappeared from sight, along with a feathery black flicker at the edge of his vision.

It's her.

The worst part was not that he had recognized her, but that he knew exactly where she was going.

* * *

She should have kept going. She should have stopped only after she breached the gates of Neverwinter. And yet, as she darted through the doors of the castle, she slowed to a walk, and eventually stopped in front of the fountain.

How could she leave? How could she leave without saying goodbye?

I have to. Gripping her head tightly in both gauntleted hands, she stared into the glittering, reflective waters of the fountain. They would try to stop me. No matter how angry Lord Nasher is with me, he can't let go of his hero, his image for Neverwinter.

Yet even as she forced herself to think they, she knew it was really only one person she was thinking of. One person who she couldn't bear to leave. The one person who was making this migration, this natural moving on, the hardest thing she had ever done in her life.

When he woke in the morning, what would he think? Would he wait for her, thinking that she must have simply slept in, as she had done so often before now? Or would he know? How much pain would she cause him?

The idea of his pain was the only thing that was locking her feet in place. The idea that her leaving would hurt him somehow, since he obviously loved her so much more than she deserved. I can't stay any longer. Aarin is strong. He'll get over it.

She had to leave. But why did that mean she couldn't say goodbye?

She turned, and of course, she had not heard his approach. Nobody heard him when he wanted to be silent.

"Aarin?"

* * *

She looked so lost then, as she whispered his name, that he wanted nothing more than to make her happy. To tell her to run far from here, to roam the lands as long as she wanted, because he loved her. And for a moment, he was almost strong enough to do so.

Then, of course, as she remained cautiously by the fountain and did not come to him, it faded. The moonlight glimmered on her soft, white-golden locks of shoulder-length hair, and he longed to press her to his chest and kiss away all of the doubt and pain he saw in her cobalt eyes. She was holding her boots in her hand, as intelligent as ever; bare feet were much quieter than booted ones.

"You're leaving." It was not a question, but it required a response.

It tore at his heart to see the agony flash across her face. "I have to, Aarin. It isn't right for me – all of it. I'm a druid. I belong in the forest. Not this city – not here."

"That isn't it," he whispered.

"Aarin, I…" She bit down on her bottom lip so hard he expected to see it bleed. Around her neck was the amulet he had given her, so long ago – long ago, when the sun of Port Llast had made their troubles seem meaningless.

His gaze traced the scars on her neck and hands, testament to that last battle with the Dread Queen Morag. A battle he had not been able to see her through. A battle he had feared she would not return from…

"I was going to come back," she admitted. "To say goodbye. I couldn't go without – I couldn't bear it."

A shadow appeared next to her and blurred into the shape of an enormous dire wolf; her companion, Zephyr. The animal pushed his thick snout beneath her palm and whined gently. "Thank you, Zev," she murmured.

If he loved her enough…if he truly loved her…he would let her go. If it was what she wanted, it was what he must let her do. No matter that watching her walk away would be like ripping his already mutilated heart from his chest. No matter that every second spent without her was an eternity spent in blinding torture.

The dire wolf raised its head and gazed at Aarin with eternally wise amber eyes. What are you going to do? it seemed to ask him.

What was he going to do?

* * *

"Come with me."

The words spilled out before she could stop them, because it was what she wanted most, the only way to fix everything. She knew it was incredibly selfish to expect him to come. He owed his service to Neverwinter.

But she was weak enough to be selfish, when it came to Aarin.

"Please come with me." She went to him, burying her face in his chest and folding her arms around his neck. She felt his warm arms wrap around her back, pressing her to him, and breathed in his sweet, musky scent. It was the smell of safety. "We could go…far away, and…be happy. I love you. How much do you love me?"

He sighed and wrapped his arms tighter around her. Behind her, Zephyr whimpered softly – he had never liked seeing her in such close contact with humans – and she shushed him with a soft click of her tongue.

"I'm still a prisoner. It may not seem like it, but I still must serve."

"Lord Nasher wouldn't try to find us. He knows when to let you go." The words felt like lies on her tongue. Lord Nasher may not expend undue effort on finding Aarin, but he would certainly pour all of Neverwinter's resources into finding her.

"I wish I could go with you…I wish it like you wouldn't believe. But I just can't, Cath." She shivered, as usual, when he said her name. He pressed his chin into the top of her head in response, but continued speaking. "I can't…I told you that if I had to choose between love and duty…"

"I'm not Calli, Aarin!" She felt angry tears beginning to pool at the corners of her eyes and tried to pull away to wipe them off, but she could have been tugging on a stone statue. "You either love me enough, or you don't!"

* * *

How could he do this?

How could he let her go alone? Who knew what dangers faced her on the lonely roads leading away from Neverwinter? How could he let her go, not knowing if he would ever see her again, not knowing when or if she would be safe?

How could he abandon Neverwinter?

"The city needs me," he pleaded helplessly, breathing in the scent of her hair. "I have to help Neverwinter rebuild. Lord Nasher needs me now more than ever. I can't just leave him."

"Can you leave me?" She glared up at him, and a pang of agony shot through him as he saw the moisture clinging to her eyelashes. He could not hurt her. He must not hurt her. "Will you leave me for Neverwinter?"

He relinquished his hold, since he could tell now that she was struggling to escape his arms. Once she was free, she skipped back several paces, her half-elfin grace compensating for the tumble she would have taken otherwise.

"It's you or a whole city," he whispered. "And I don't deserve you. I never have. I don't know why you love me."

"I understand, Aarin." Her words caught him off guard, but not as much as the bitter tone in which she said them. "You would stay and try to rebuild a city that's going to die whatever you do. I won't ask you anymore to come with me." She reached for the amulet hanging from her neck and unclasped it, holding it out to him. "Take it. It'll just be a burden on the road."

He stared at her in horror. "No." Reaching out, he closed his hand over hers and shut her fist tight over the amulet. Her small, white hand looked lost inside his, and he quickly withdrew it. "You'll need the light."

"The light, Aarin?" She stared at him, the bitterness in her voice turning to sadness. "How can I use it to light my path, Aarin, when all it will do is remind me of you? How can I handle all that darkness?"

He could not answer, so he just stared at her.

"I'll keep it. If it makes your pain less. I didn't want to hurt you, Aarin, but I don't have any other choice." She gazed desolately up at him and latched the amulet once more around her pale neck. "I'll miss you every step of the way."

"I love you," he breathed, reaching out again. She touched his palm lightly with her fingertips and gazed straight into his eyes. "Once I know Neverwinter will live, I'll come for you. I'll search for you forever, if that's what it takes."

Taking her hand, he pulled her to his chest and met her soft lips in a passionate kiss, crushing her body to his, feeling the cold metal of her armor against his bare arms. She smelled of calla lilies and sun on the grass, and he never wanted to let her go. Never.

Too soon she pulled away, her lips still parted, her blue eyes glistening with tears. He stared at her helplessly, his hands empty, needing her.

Zephyr yelped softly and she half turned her head toward him. Nodding swiftly, she turned back to lock her eyes on Aarin's again.

She reached up, stretching out on her tip-toes, and kissed his lips softly, briefly, for just a flicker in time. He didn't have time to respond. "Love is cruel," she whispered.

And then she was gone, gliding almost noiselessly across the ground, the enormous dire wolf loping silently at her side. Her sweet scent hung in the air, sending fresh throbs of pain through his chest every time he inhaled.

"Cath," he breathed.

It was too late. She was gone.


Well, please review and tell me what you thought of it. My PC, by the way, is a druid by the name of Catharine Rainier. Her animal companion is a dire wolf named Zephyr (she calls him Zev for short).