Disclaimer: Baldurs Gate belongs to it's respective owner.

A while back I wrote a stary about the first time Charname and Imoen met, I re-read it some time ago and decided I probably could do better and re-wrote it. So I present my version of how Charname and Imoen met for the very first time years before they began running around the sword coast making life miserable for all hard working villians.

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The difference was immediate. Where outside was a bright summer day, the light nearly blinding in its brilliance and a sea breeze being the only thing from making the heat unbearable inside it was dark, gloomy and cold. Dust drifted lazily in the few shafts of light invading the dark and Imoen could not suppress a shiver. She did not like this place already.

The girl made to move back outdoors when she walked into a soft, yet unyielding mass, a giant hand the only thing that kept her from falling to the floor.

- 'Watch where you're goin' 'Moen. Ain't do ya no good bouncing yer bony self on the floor 'ere.'

The girl caught her balance and nodded, trying to force a smile on her face, or to say something nice to the man that had shown her nothing but kindness since he found her, and failed at the task. Winthrop smiled at the girl and placed his hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

- 'Come along than! Gotta meet Master Gorion, e's a good man, you'll see. You'll like 'im the moment you see 'im.'

He said as he steered the girl through the dark library. Imoen peered around carefully as they moved, all she saw were row upon row of tall bookcases, many of them literarily bending under the weight of the tomes on them. From time to time she caught a glimpse of a green robbed figure, though she couldn't be certain but it seemed that none of them seemed interested in the two as they made their way past.

Apart from one who glided down the stairs they were walking towards and approached them.

- 'Mister Winthrop, Master Gorion is wanting a word with you.' – he paused and looked at Imoen, - 'Alone.'

Winthrop sighed and nodded.

- 'A'right. Keep an eye on de lass will ya?'

- 'I'm too busy to mind a brat.'

The man scoffed before storming off, muttering something under his breath. Winthrop glared daggers at the mans back and muttered;

- 'Lazy, no good son of a…'

He paused, looked down into the girls grey eyes and finished with a cough. Imoen knew what the man wanted to say, she heard worse. But Winthrop seemed to make a point of not using certain language in front of her. Winthrop ruffled her head.

- 'Wait 'ere a moment. Gotta see wha de man wants. I'll be right back.'

He said before going off. Imoen stood silently, looking around with nervous movements of the head at every noise and nearly jumped at a metallic ring that echoed across the library. Even as the echoes faded another sound was heard. It sounded. A constant, repeating sound of one surface being scraped on another, a pause and it would start again.

Imoen looked around for the source. Not seeing anything she glanced to the stairway, hoping to see the familiar bulk of Winthrop coming down. No such luck. Imoen stood still, chewing her lip and reached a decision.

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'What are you doing?'

The boy looked up at the voice, surprise quickly fading to irritation as he saw what had asked the question. He turned his head away back to his task.

- 'What does it look like I'm doing?'

He replied in a voice close to a snarl. The girl took a step back at the tone but managed to reply,

- 'It looks like your scrubbing the floor with a brush smaller than your pinkie.'

The boy tilted his head and looked at the girl. A skinny, red headed girl, about his age in what appeared to be travel clothes regarded him with grey eyes, eyes that betrayed uncertainty. Yet those eyes held his gaze and only turned away after a while, not like the adults of Candlekeep that seemed to avoid his gaze, strange. She, on the other hand, saw a skinny boy in a smaller version of the robes she saw other peopl in the library wearing. What little could be seen from under his hood were a thin face with eyes that she couldn't really decide if they were blue or grey. It took her a moment to realize she was staring and look away.

- 'If you saw clearly what I was doing than why did you bother asking?'

He said before resuming his task. As far as he was concerned the conversation was over. However the girl did not leave, and from the prickly feeling on the back of his neck he was certain she was staring at him. He managed to ignore her for a minute before turning towards her suddenly,

- 'Anything else?'

He snarled, accenting the words by slamming the brush against the tiles. The girl took a step back, but nodded.

- 'Why?'

She asked quietly. The boy stared at the girl for a moment, was she simple in the head or something? He didn't know the answer to that but he did realize that she was expecting an answer to her own question. He sighed, got of his knees and sat down, rubbing his hands.

- 'I am currently learning why, when I am taken to test my martial skills against illusions, to not decide on the easy way out of attacking the illusionist.'

He said. The girl nodded, seemingly accepting his explanation. Silence fell, broken only by the sound of a stifled cough from somewhere in the library. The two children stared at each other in silence.

- 'You got a name?'

He asked, annoyed that she was still there and yet pleased that he had an excuse not to be scrubbing the floor. She replied with a nod followed by a silent,

- 'Imoen.'

- 'Zhyv Rakov.'

He replied, awaiting the comment about the unusual nature of his name. It didn't come as the girl only nodded. Zhyv frowned and decided that she probably was simple minded.

- 'So, why are you here? You came with a group…'

He began but the rest of the sentence was drowned out.

- 'ZHYV! You 'ad better be scrubbing that floor!'

Before Imoen knew what had happened the boy was on his knees, scrubbing furiously at the floor. Winthrop appeared a moment later, glared at the boy before turning with a smile to Imoen.

- 'There ya are! I though I told ya to wait fer me there. No matter, I told Gorion all about ya and 'es wantin to see ya. Come along now.'

Imoen obediently walked to the man who, while waiting turned back to the boy with a glare.

- 'Be sure to scrub them floor properly! An if yer thinking that Gorion gonna cut the punishment short, forget it! He's still fumin over how ya ruined those books. 'Onestly! What sort of idiot takes a priceless tome and drops it down a well?'

Imoen looked up at this, glanced at the blushing boy and a hint of a smile appeared on her lips, a fact that did not escape Winthrop's attention.

- 'Ya shad smile 'ore ofen 'Moen. It's not good fer ya, frownin all the time. Plus every one can see 'ow pretty ya're.'

He placed a hand on her shoulder and gently steered her towards the staircase. Imoen cast a glance in Zhyv's direction who, though scrubbing the floor, pointed at Winthrop's back before pulling an imaginary noose tight around his neck while making a face as if chocking.

Imoen laughed.