Disclaimer: I don't own Baldur's Gate

A/N: This story is based upon the Baldur's Gate game trilogy. However, there are many instances that I stray from canon, which is entirely intentional. So if you don't want to read something that isn't purely canon, then please don't read.

He who fights monsters should see to it that he himself does not become a monster. When you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.

Chapter 1 30 Uktar 1344 The Feast of the Moon 40th year of the reign of King Bartimaeus IV of Amn.

"At the innermost core of all loneliness is a deep and powerful yearning for union with one's lost self."

~ Brendan Francis

"Pray that your loneliness may spur you into finding something to live for, great enough to die for.

~ Dag Hammarskjold

Outside the window, the people of Impernium were reveling in the glow of bonfires, erected earlier that evening as part of the celebration of the Feast of the Moon in honor of Selune, goddess of the moon and stars. Also, people were spending some coin to have their fortunes told as Selune is the goddess of prophecy as well. The whole city was in a festive mood. To the young queen Morwen, the view outside the window of her private chapel seemed a world away.

She had come here to kneel before her private alter, dedicated to her patron god, Helm. Helm the god of protectors, Helm the Vigilant one. As she was kneeling, she looked out the window and searched the night sky. Almost immediately she found it, the constellation shaped like an eye, ever watchful, the constellation belonging to Helm. Upon seeing it, she felt comforted a bit. Back before she was queen, she would see that same sign shining through her bedroom window, easily visible to her while she was lying in bed. It would bathe her with a serene light and she would slip into a peaceful night's sleep, soothed by the assurance that Helm was watching over her…

How long ago that seemed now, it seemed as though a lifetime had passed since her marriage to the elderly king Bartimaeus, rather than mere months. Again her mind wandered to the people just outside and their excitement. Truth be told, as a child, this day, The Feast of the Moon, was her favorite of all holidays. She would listen in awe for hours as the elders told stories of great heroes of the past, their hands expertly using the flames of the bonfires to create fantastic images made of shadow. As a young child she had thought that the story tellers could, in truth, control the shadows, make them bend to their will. Then, she had discovered that it was a partnership of sorts, a three way partnership with the storyteller, the fire, and the dark all doing their part with no one being stronger than the others. She had been quick to learn the skill and had dreamed of teaching her children someday. She also loved to take part in the ritualistic dancing and howling around the great bonfires, calling upon Selune in the voice of the animal most dearest to her, the wolf. Also, this was the night when the remaining meat from the seemingly endless banquets were divided into two piles, one to be burned in the great fire so the rich aromas would reach Selune's moon dog, Cerebus, and the other half to be placed outside for the wild wolves that roamed. This was never any trouble because in order to assure that there would be more than enough meat left over for the great dogs, twice as much meat was prepared as even the most gluttonous crowd could not finish it. This was done, Morwen was told, because one Feast of the Moon, long ago, there was no meat left over from the banquet which angered the goddess who forsook the people of Faerun and for that whole year, the moon and stars refused to shine and a countless number of sailors were lost at sea, as they had no stars to navigate by. That story had always made her sad as a child, yet she would always be quickly and pleasantly distracted by some of the guests at the feast, the lycanthropes. Werewolves. Some of her friends had been frightened of them, not her though, she thought them fascinating, these seemingly normal people most of the time became wolf-men, usually this was frowned upon, but upon this, the feast of Selune, they were welcome to revel in their beastly form and from time to time it happened when Morwen would discover, to her great surprise, that a teacher, or a friend, or a long time acquaintance was in fact a lycan.

However, one of her all-time FAVORITE things to do on this, her favorite of all days was to have her fortune told, for Selune was also the goddess of prophesy and at the feast, there would always be tons of fortune-tellers. As a young child, she would take the words of the oracles as law, yet as she got older, she became more and more skeptical of their prophesies, but it was still fun and she never missed a chance to see at least one of the oracles. In her mind the craziest fortune that was ever told to her was one from, what, only last year, when an old woman had told her two things. One, that she would marry her true love and that her son would be a king. At that last part she had remembered exploding into laughter while the old woman looked at her kindly, with a bit of pity in her eyes. Morwen remembered saying, still laughing

"You must be mistaken. I hear you well and good that I shall marry my true love, and glad am I to hear it. But my son to be a king, how is that to be, might I ask? I am but simple Morwen, a farm girl, and Cole, my love, is but a poor knight. How can any son of ours ever hope to become a king?"

"My dear," the old woman said gently, "I never said that the boy would be Cole's."

"But," Morwen had interjected shocked, "Cole is my true love, I know it." She found herself to be close to yelling at the poor old woman.

"I doubt it not, however, nor did I even say that your son would be fathered by your true love."

Morwen tried to calm down, it was just a fortune-teller after all, it wasn't canon law, so she shook her head and said, while getting up to leave,

"Well madam, I thank you for the fortune-telling, we shall just have to see what happens, shan't we?"

This year she was not in a festive mood, had begged pardon from her husband the king if she could be excused from the festivities on account that she was feeling unwell. He graciously acquiesced, with a touch of excitement in his voice, hinting that he thought perhaps her illness was an early sign of pregnancy. He, as well as the crown-prince, gallantly offered to escort her back to her suite, however, she soon heard a soft voice say,

"Your Majesty, your highness, if you would allow it, I would like to escort her to her rooms, that is, if the queen doesn't mind?"

Her heart skipped a beat; she would have known that voice anywhere, she spun around…

"Cole!" her mind and heart screamed, for a brief moment she was fearful that she might have yelled his name aloud, but since no one was looking at her peculiarly, she figured that the exclamation had remained non-verbal.

He inclined his head to her, she could feel color rushing to her face and she willed herself not to shame herself in front of her husband and step-son.

"How have you come to be here, might I ask?" She questioned with no small amount of wonder. How she wanted to rush to him, to have him hold her in his arms, yet she couldn't.

"My dear, Sir Cole is here, as I have given him a position at court. Who better, I thought, to protect our beloved queen than someone who is as undeniably loyal to her as someone who has been a boon companion for so long. He is to be your body guard, that is, if you wish it. I thought it would please you to have a familiar face such as Sir Cole's around."

Morwen hadn't known what to think, she was just in shock, she needed time to relax and to sort out her emotions that had been building up over these past few months and were in danger of being let loose here, for all to see. So, she said,

"Thank you kindly, your majesty." She curtseyed, yet the king quickly had her rise.

"The pleasure is all mine my dear, and please, no need for your majesty here, as I have said before, Bart is a good and proper way for you to address me, and by the gods, "he exclaimed laughing, "No curtseying, first of all you are not feeling well, secondly, I have grown weary of such things over these past 40 years. I am proud enough without people constantly bowing and scraping before me!" He said, a playful glimmer in his eyes.

"Now, then, I suppose I shall allow Cole to see you to your suite, my dear." He said as he lifted his wife's jeweled hand to his lips. "Sleep well, my dear."

"A pleasant evening to you to dear heart," she said "and to you Kidrial." She said to the prince, who nodded politely to her in return.

She then lightly placed her hand upon Cole's proffered arm and allowed him to lead her back to the castle and to her rooms. They were both silent, unsure of what to do or say in such a situation, so they merely continued silently on their way, their eyes locked dead-ahead. When they finally reached her rooms, they turned to face each other. Cole gave her a small smile, though his eyes looked sad. He took her hand gently in his, brought it to his lips and softly kissed it.

"Good night, your Highness." He said softly and bowed elegantly before her. Morwen wanted to cry. He was there mere inches away and yet he could have been half way across Faerun for all the good it did her.

"Good night." Was all that she was able to say before she hastily turned from him and entered her suite closing the door tightly behind her. All at once, the emotions that she had been holding back overcame her and she fell upon her bed, her body racked with sobs, muffling her cries with a pillow, for fear that Cole, who was still just outside her door, would hear her.

Then, after crying for a few minutes, she abruptly sat up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand and gave a soft sniffle.

"Damn it Morwen," she thought to herself, "You are a queen; you had better start acting like one!" At that she tried to organize her emotions, now that she had gained the upper hand over them. The past months had gone by in a whirlwind, she had been kept too busy to dwell upon what had happened to her, how her life had been unalterably changed.

She was still in awe, really, at what had happened. She was queen! From going to a lowly peasant to queen, well, it would have to take some getting used to. King Bartimaeus had been getting lonely since the death of his first queen and the mother of his only child, the crown prince Kidrial, fifteen years before. A king choosing a peasant bride as a second queen was not unheard of. Indeed, King Bartimaeus himself was the product of just such a union. She supposed that she was chosen as a way to gain more support from the people, it had begun to ebb as of late with all of the call to arms that had been given in recent years. Also, Morwen was well respected as a very dedicated priestess of Helm in her small community, and Bartimaeus dearly wanted to be seen as worthy before the eyes of the gods, especially one as powerful as Helm and how better than to wed a priestess who seemed to have his favor? Regardless, things were quite good between them, her and Bartimaeus. He was a good man who truly seemed to care for her and they had developed a nice friendship, even though she was still a bit in awe of her royal husband.

And yet, despite all of his kindness and her best efforts, she could not bring herself to love him, not as a wife should love her husband. Such love she felt only towards Cole. Cole. She didn't know what to think of him right now. She had come to him when she had first been courted by the king. She had come to him in tears telling him of what had transpired. To her shock, he had told her to go ahead and marry the king. Her heart had sunk. But, she loved him, Cole! And she believed he loved her! How could he let some other man, even though it be the king, lay claim to her? Why not announce an engagement between them and tell the king that she was not available, that he would have to take another to be his queen. He would understand, she had been sure of it! But Cole had just shook his head and said with a small, sad smile on his lips that he wouldn't do that. And why ever not? She had protested. Because, he claimed, he was a poor country knight with hardly a penny to his name, despite the small business he had as a textiles merchant on the side. How could he ever hope to support her and a family when he was in such financial straits? Yet to marry a king, to want for nothing, to become royalty, he couldn't have her give that all up just to be poor and married to him. At this she had pushed him away in anger and sadness, tears filling her dark brown eyes, blinding her.

"Damn it Cole" She had yelled, choking back a sob, "Don't you see! I would be miserable as queen, married to a man who wasn't you!"

Cole had begun to say how when you love something you let it go and if it returns to you… but Morwen hadn't been listening

"Come on, Morwen! He is an old man anyway, he won't live much longer-"

"Cole! That's treason to even mention the death of the king! Besides, he is forty-seven, hardly an old man and he could have twenty or thirty years in him still. You…you coward, just stay away from me! To think I loved a man who didn't have the nerve to proclaim his love for me and would let another man have me! Just stay far, far away from me Cole." She said and then she ran away sobbing, her face in her hands.

With her heart hardened to Cole, she had no reason not to marry the king, and so, she had. The appearance of Cole this evening, she didn't know what to think. Was he here to use her elevated rank for his own advancement? She had thought so at first. Bartimaeus wouldn't have brought Cole to court had he known that he had been her paramour even though she had come to the king's bed as a maid. From how the king had introduced Cole, he seemed to know nothing of their relationship except that they were boon companions, best friends. And yet, looking in Cole's soft, sad, gray eyes, she could see no calculating coldness in them, merely love and sadness. He wanted to be near to her, in any capacity. If that was the case, why hadn't he had the courage to tell the king before the marriage of his feelings towards her? For that matter, why hadn't she? It was not something she wanted to dwell upon, and yet, why hadn't she? No, it was too painful to dwell upon.

At least she would now have a friend at court. Her husband the king was a very kind man and they had developed a friendship, but Cole was a living lifeline, a connection to her old life, her old self. She had few friends at court. Sure, she had overwhelming support from the people, but the nobles of Amn looked upon her with disdain, she knew it, even though they had never been openly rude to her, she could still feel the contempt they held for her. What made matters worse was that she knew that the one person who was most angered by the recent marriage was her stepson, the crown prince Kidrial. So far he had proven to be something of an enigma. Prince Kidrial, she almost laughed when she thought about it. He was a few years older than she was, born in the king's twentieth summer. He was never rude to her, no, he treated her with great respect, yet she was fearful that she was creating a wedge between father and son. He was disgusted with his father for remarrying after the death of his mother, the beloved late queen Yamilet, who had died giving birth to a stillborn daughter fifteen years ago. The king had married her for love as a very young man and he swore at the time that he would never remarry, and now…well, it was just too much for Kidrial to swallow.

What was she to do? She did not ask for this. She decided at this point to pray to Helm, at the small alter she had dedicated to him in her private chapel, and that was where she was now. The stone floor cold against her knees, she bent her head in prayer, tears trickling down her beautiful face.

"Great Helm, you who are the Great Guard, the Great Watcher, the Vigilant One, you have always looked after me, always aided me in my moment of need. Please my dear lord, I beseech thee, turn not thine ear from me in my hour of great need, but rather in thy great kindness hear me. I now stand upon a precipice and am in great need of your guidance, lest I make a wrong step and lose forever all that is dear to me. I have been chosen to be queen, a great honor that I neither asked for nor wanted. As a result, I am now married to a man, a good man, but one whom I do not love. What's more, I have been thus forced by circumstance to deny the love that I bear for my most beloved Cole. What should I do? Please, give me the wisdom to follow the right path and the strength to follow my convictions; I know that by you I shall not be forsaken…

A man approaching his middle years sat at a table, his back hunched, his elbows resting on the table, his fingers rubbing his temples. He gave a heavy sigh, his brow furrowed with care. He had been a fool as of late.

"I'm getting too old for this. I can't even hold onto my own." He thought miserably. He seemed to have aged greatly in the recent times, signs of his weakening influence and all the stress he had put himself through this past while. His once rich brown hair and beard were becoming liberally streaked with grey, his eyes etched with lines. "Why do those mortal call them 'laugh lines'? I hardly got them through an excess of mirth." He thought bitterly. He tried to focus on his duties, on those that needed him. "Little good I'm doing them in this state." He said bitterly. "They look to me for guidance and strength, when I myself am just a lost and troubled soul myself." He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he did not notice another's presence in the room until he felt a light touch upon his shoulder. At that he jumped and hastily turned around. Upon seeing a wizened old man before him, he quickly rose from his seat and said, "My lord! I was not expecting you! Please, how may I serve?"

The old man put a hand up for silence and smirked.

"Calm yourself, Helm. You could not have known that I was coming as I had just decided to act upon a whim and pay you a visit." He looked around the room with disdain. "Quite sparse furnishings you have here."

"It fits my needs just fine my lord Ao, it offers few distractions, which makes it an ideal place to just be alone and think."

"Or brood." The old man said. "This isn't good for you my boy, not good at all. And would it kill you to shave every once in a while?" He sternly looked at his grown son whose face was nearly completely covered with a thick beard, his eyes, a beautiful rare blue, the exact hue as the Faerunian sky, just visible above it.

"I hardly need any grooming advice father." He grumbled.

"Oh, no, indeed not." He responded sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "What has been ailing you as of late? You have been quite gloomy recently." He immediately realized that it was perhaps not the best way he could have broached the subject to his brash son.

Helm's earlier obedient, deferential attitude was quickly leaving him as he became increasingly annoyed. "Well, I apologize for my recent *brooding* and *gloominess* my lord," with mock deference. "I have merely been reflecting upon the fates of *your* children and *my* siblings as of late. Banishing them as you did. What were you *thinking*?"

Ah, so that was it. He had expected Helm of all of the denizens that habituated the Faerunian pantheon to understand. Ao, as the over-father of said pantheon usually brooked no argument or questioning of his decisions from those who served him. But Helm, a steadfast man, one who had stood staunchly by his side through many upheavals of power attempted by the more power-hungry of the gods, he decided to tolerate it.

"Do you truly think I would have done so had I any other choice?' he asked, his eyes and voice hard and yet Helm was taken aback by a flicker of sadness behind the old man's eyes, a hint of weariness in his voice. What had happened was that two of the gods, Bane, god of hatred, fear, and tyranny, and Myrkul, god of death, known by mortals as The Black Hand and The Lord of the Dead respectively, had attempted to steal the Tablets of Fate from the overgod Ao, tablets that he had created to sustain the balance of good and evil, order and chaos, and contain the areas in Faerun where each of the gods ruled over. It had been the last straw for Ao. Sick of the gods' habitual pursuit of power and negligence towards their mortal faithful, Ao had cast them out forced them to dwell among the mortals of Faerun as mortals, albeit incredibly strong ones. It had, as Helm remembered bitterly, led to chaos throughout the realms. Helm had been the only god allowed to stay in the heavens having been entrusted by Ao with the duty of guarding the gates of heaven. It had been three years and already a number of the gods had already been slain, a fact that did not sit well with Helm.

Helm's eyes became dark. Thinking about the slain gods, one in particular weighed heavily upon his conscience, the death of Mystra, the Mistress of Magic, the Mother of Mysteries, and the one who had guided the weave of magic that envelops the world. She had been slain the year past, by his hands as she tried to bypass him without the tablets of fate and it still haunted him. Regardless of whether or not it was his duty, many gods as well as mortals held him in contempt. He didn't know why it bothered him so, but it did.

Lost in his own thoughts, Helm hadn't noticed the hint of sadness hidden behind Ao's stern, hard eyes.

"It may not affect you any, however, I can't endure this! The blood of Mystra stains my hands! What would become of me if anyone else tries to do the same? I try to tell myself that I was just doing my duty, but it is not enough. Not for me, not for the others, not for the mortals. They are falling away from me…" his distraught blue eyes searched his father's hard gray ones imploringly.

"This too, shall pass, my boy. You mustn't let things eat at you like this. For the mortals, it shall be a test of their faith, that is all, they will come around, they always have. And the others? They have far greater problems to worry about, so don't flatter yourself so."

Ao tried to give Helm a small, reassuring smile. He sighed as Helm continued to look dejected. His sensitivity was admirable, but not when it hurt him so much as all this. He of all the gods seemed the most blessed (or cursed) with a strong conscience, not always favorable in a being of duty, whose decisions were not his own to make. He really had not meant to put him in such a state as all this. However, he had a final card to play, his ace in the hole, so to speak.

"So, "he said after a short while "How is your son?"

Ha! Success! At the mention of the boy, Helm's face immediately lit up, as he knew it would.

"Fantastic! He's tough and strong, just like his old man!" he boasted, puffing out his chest with pride. "Just nine years old and he is being trained by one of the greatest paladins in Faerun!"

"Yes, he his quite an impressive lad, I will grant him that, but Helm, he looks nothing like you, golden and lean as he is. I dare swear, he reminds me of a young Amaunator."

Helm couldn't help but to laugh at that. Amaunator, the old, decrepit sun god, he who was old before Helm was brought into being, and Helm was far from being a young deity. He couldn't imagine Amaunator ever looking like his boy, all golden and youthful, full of vivacity and life.

"I'll have to take your word for that, but he has my eyes, you must have noticed that at least, those eyes, have you ever seen the like? "

"No, I suppose you are right. Regardless," he said, taking serious tone. "I would strongly advise you against such 'fraternization' again."

Helm gave him a blank expression.

"Your boy, his mother, she is a mortal of course, I can't really say that I condone such behavior"

"Mortal?" Helm asked, caught off guard by the comment.

"Your son Helm, your only child, was born of a mortal woman, correct?" he asked raising an eyebrow.

Helm quickly answered, trying to save himself.

"Oh, yeah, a mortal, of course." His mind wandered to the mother of his only child. And what a woman she is, thought Helm, blissfully thinking back to that time nearly ten years ago when they had convinced themselves to live for the moment, she in self-enforced banishment, he constantly trying to keep order. She had been the one to come on to him! He had never dreamed that she would have any such feelings towards him, the most beautiful of them all. Never did he think that she would quicken with child, but she had. Due to the circumstances, he had been terrified for the safety of his son, beautiful and golden like his mother. He had convinced her to give the child up, for to keep him with her would be to put his life in danger, he knew it, just by his parentage alone, now, in the thick of the chaos, he was glad that he had done so, despite the pain that it had caused both of them. The boy was growing up, strong, safe, and, most importantly, loved. He need never know of his parentage, and he would be better off for his ignorance.

"Are you sure about this, I don't remember having the honor of meeting this woman. Is there something you aren't telling me my boy?" asked Ao, who was getting increasingly suspicious.

"Oh no my lord, you are absolutely right, the woman is mortal." Said Helm, inwardly praying that Ao wouldn't delve deeper.

Ao let the matter drop.

"Now, I pray that you excuse me, I have matters that I must be attending to." said the younger man as he turned to leave.

"And just what are you going to do?" Ao asked, already knowing full well that he was not going to approve of the answer.

"Oh, I'm just going to 'fraternize' with another mortal woman." He said with a smirk on his face. "Don't worry my lord," he said more seriously, "I am not doing this just to satisfy my own lust, if you thought otherwise, then you hardly know me, even after all this time." Then he turned around and left.

Ao let out a heavy sigh. Do I even know you Helm? Ao asked to himself. The boy was keeping a secret from him, yet so was he. It had been a lie that he had merely decided to visit him on a whim, no, recently he had been filled with a sense of foreboding for his favorite son, yet it was nothing he could put into words. Even if he could have, Helm would have only seen his concerns as the senseless worries of an old man. His nerves, as Ao had seen were already fraying, and Ao really didn't want to upset him further, especially when all he had at the moment were vague feelings of worry for his safety. All he did know though is that with new gods joining the pantheon, and Ao knew their characters well, Helm was bound to gain a few enemies, and the fact that he had mortal progeny, if they were to find that out, they could play upon that weakness, the blind love of a parent for his child, it was made worse when the parent was divine and the child mortal. He knew it was a weakness that Helm could ill-afford.

The young queen was still on her knees before her alter, her head bent in silent prayer.

"Your majesty, may I have a moment of your time?" asked a soft and gentle voice from behind her.

She almost gasped, was tempted to whirl around to see who this intruder was, yet she wouldn't show that she was startled, would carry herself as a queen ought, gracefully, regally. Who would dare to enter her chambers unannounced and during her prayers at that? She was sure that Cole would have stopped anyone from entering, or would, at the very least announce a visitor's arrival. Slowly she rose to her feet and turned around.

Before her, several paces away, was a man bowing low before her.

"Please rise, sir" she said "I would ask what your purpose for being here at such an…hour-" the admonishment died upon her lips as she saw the man who was now standing before her. There stood a man, neither old nor young, of medium height, stocky build, brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard, yet what had caught her attention the most were those eyes, that rare blue hue…blue as the Faerunian sky, she had seen them every day of her life but never like this, no one had, as far as she knew. He also emitted an aura about him. And when he had spoken, it sounded exactly like the voice that would resonate in her heart and soul when she would pray. It slowly dawned on her who this must be.

He gave a small smile, yet his eyes looked sad, lined with care. "I do apologize for the late hour, your highness; however, I did hear that you did desire my help and I- my lady!"

He stopped abruptly as she saw her fall to her knees before him, nearly overcome by the revelation of who he was. He walked over, knelt beside her, and gently cupped her chin with his hand and tilted her head up to look at him.

"Morwen." He said gently, "It's all right. Come now, we can't have you crying just because of little old me." He gently brushed a tear off her cheek with his thumb. Her eyes were gazing into his with a look of overwhelming awe, reverence, and…fear? No, heavens no, there was no need for that.

"Come now, arise. Such action hardly befits the queen of Amn, now does it?" He asked playfully, cocking an eyebrow. He knew that would work, she was very concerned with presenting herself as a queen.

Indeed, it had worked. After he had removed his hand from her chin, she continued to hold it high and he could see her regaining the regal bearing she had before. Slowly, elegantly, she rose to her feet and was able to find her voice, the proud voice of a queen, yet still laced with a bit of awe, understandable, really.

"My lord, how is it that that you have decided to grace me with your presence? I cannot recount a time when you have decided to honor mortals with your divine presence. It is quite humbling. "

He couldn't help but laugh a loud, deep laugh.

"Do you blame me, my dear queen? For if my appearance to one as devoted to my person as your august highness, then imagine how lesser mortals would react, all of this groveling and crying and carrying on and 'I'm sorry this' or 'I'm not worthy that' Truly, 'tis passing strange."

She was relaxing a bit, and gave her own light, musical laugh.

"Most august highness? Please, I would hardly call myself that my lord, and there is definitely no need for YOU to address me as such."

"And," Helm continued, "My 'divine presence' as you so kindly phrased it, this old bag of bones?" he said, gesturing to himself, "Merely a form taken to be more approachable, though I see that has failed somewhat. And, it confuses me somewhat how you mortals always say that a visit from divinity is humbling, really, I would say that you should be rather proud of yourself, we hardly ever visit those who have not found themselves worthy in some form or other."

"I suppose you are right my lord."

"Of course I am."

"Of course you are, just listen to yourself!" she said amused. "But, my most gracious lord, what is your purpose here, if I may inquire?"

"Indeed you may, it is a fair enough question, especially at this late hour with nary a warning." He mused, gently stroking his beard. How to explain, and delicately?

"You see…as you are quite aware…"

'Damn it Helm." He thought to himself, 'Just spit it out already, old man.' And yet he was surprised to discover that he was becoming quite taken by this attractive young mortal. He was drawn to her, not just by her beauty, but by her bright soul and candid nature.

"As you are quite aware, my lady, these are dark times, at least amongst the gods, heavens know how much it will come to affect you mortals. The gods, all except for Ao and myself, are roaming Faerun as mortals, many have already been slain…" his eyes shone with pain that hadn't escaped Morwen before he quickly turned away.

"My lord," Morwen said softly, "You were following the orders of Ao, you did as you must. You mustn't let what happened to Mystra haunt you like this." Her eyes filled with sympathy for him and she gently took his hand in hers and squeezed it reassuringly. At this, Helm turned around, a sad smile on his face and squeezed her hand in response. After a moment he found his voice.

"You are also aware of what one god, Bhaal, has been doing. Having foreseen his own death in this time of troubles, he has gone about fathering mortal children, imbued with his divine essence."

Morwen nodded, wondering where this was leading to.

"I suppose…I suppose that my point is, is that after all that I have done and after all that Bhaal is doing, I…I wish to do something for Faerun, to have my own presence felt, even when I cannot be here. And I…I believe that Bhaal was correct in his own twisted way. A…mortal child of my own essence… I think could help turn the tide of all the coming chaos and darkness into a future of light…that is…if…if you are willing…of course."

"Are you meaning to say that you wish for me to be the vessel for your mortal child my lord?"

"Not vessel , no, a mother to my child." He could feel color coming to his face, well, at least, he thought, he had enough of a beard left to hide that, 'Damn, get a hold of yourself, old man.'

Her head was swimming. Her to bethe mother of Helm's child, she could scarce believe it!

"Why me, you could have anyone you want!"

"Because, dear Morwen, you have always been very devoted to me as well as an exemplary priestess. Furthermore, you are now queen of one of the most powerful kingdoms upon the face of Faerun, one that has long been deeply devoted to me, so what better way to both bless not only you but also this country, as well as to ensure that my son would be in a position of power enough to have a far reaching affect across the Faerun. And lastly, and I apologize if my attentions are unwelcome, but you hold quite an attraction for me, young Morwen, you are a beautiful woman with a bright soul."

He breathed in deeply and let it out in one great big exhalation. His blue eyes searched her green ones, his heart pounding in his chest.

"How could you ever think that I would find your attentions unwelcome, sir? No, indeed, I feel quite, no, very honored at what you propose, and I will do so willingly, how can this be done?"

Helm had a momentary startled appearance. "You…you consent, my lady? Thank you! You please me more than you can know. What I propose to do can be accomplished in one of two ways, the path we choose is completely yours to make. Unlike with Bhaal, I can directly imbue you with my divine essence in a moment's time, an immaculate conception, in other words." He paused, letting it register with her. "The other option would be…well… to copulate in the fashion that mortals do…"

Again Morwen was close to being overcome by what she was hearing; he was giving her a choice, where, as a god, it was more than fitting at it would be his choice alone. She looked at him. He was not an unattractive man, indeed, he was quite handsome. She knew which choice she wanted.

"You give me the choice? Truly?"

"Truly, my lady, whatever you wish."

She gently placed her hand upon his cheek and gazed into his beautiful blue eyes and said softly, "I would appreciate it if you stayed a bit longer than a moment, my lord." She said softly.

His heart leapt into his throat, "Dearest Morwen, do you mean…"

"I'll take option two my lord. You didn't expect me to say that, did you?" she asked.

His surprised, gladdened expression was more than enough of an answer for her. He then gently lifted her chin and kissed her, his beard lightly tickling her face, surprisingly soft to the touch. She gently slid her fingers through his hair, which was just wavy enough to curl pleasantly around them, and was thick without being coarse. All such thoughts, though, vanished from her mind as she noticed his hesitancy to show his passion, and so she took the lead and gently her tongue into his mouth to which he eagerly responded. After a few moments, he broke away, gasping for air, his eyes alight with passion. He then gently, effortlessly, lifted her into his arms, she wrapping her arms around his neck, as he carried her to the waiting bed.

A while later, Helm rose from the bed, got dressed and leaned over to give the sleeping Morwen one last kiss on her forehead and whispered to her

"I hope that you will now have something to live for, something to be strong for, and something you'd be willing to die for. Fare you well, perhaps we shall meet again."

And then he quietly left the room. Cole was no longer standing sentry at the door but had gone to his own room for the night. Slowly, Helm traversed the hallways of the castle, could still see the bonfires burning bright and strong outside, could still hear the people making merry even at the late hour. The interior of the castle was delightfully abandoned, though he was dreading to go outside, to be seen by the crowd, so was pleased when, of a sudden, he saw a regal shadow upon the wall and a moment later, he came face to face with the king.

"Your majesty," he said bowing, "You are just the person I wished to see. I would have a word with you." He frowned when recognition crossed the king's face and he fell to his knees.

"My most esteemed lord! What has transpired that has allowed us to be visited by your most august presence?"

"Come, come, rise, rise." Helm said, pulling the king to his feet. "I have decided to bless your kingdom-"

"Oh great Helm, I thank thee!"

"Please, let me finish, Bartimaeus. Your wife, Morwen, she is, how shall I put this, is going to bear my child."

"My lord! To think of it, a prince of the realm, to be your son!"

"Indeed, though before you misconstrue the situation, I must explain that my arrival was not the reason for her early departure from tonight's festivities. The poor girl is deeply conflicted and troubled within her soul."

"Dear Morwen? Troubled? How? How did I not know of this?" the king asked, his face a picture of concern.

"The whole matter of becoming your queen has been a very overwhelming ordeal for her, one that has just now begun to sink in, in all its entirety. And to top it all off, there is the matter of the guest you have so recently brought to court."

"What? I have personally done something to upset her further? I had no idea? What have I done?"

"It is the matter regarding Sir Cole."

"Sir Cole? But I have been informed that he and the queen were the best of friends! I thought that his presence here would comfort her."

"Very noble intentions indeed, my lord, however, it appears to me that you have not been given all of the facts regarding their relationship. They were more than just friends, they were in love and even though they never consummated their feelings for each other, his presence here, well, let me just say that it is, in some ways…unwelcome…to her. She is faced with a dilemma; she loves you dearly and yet loves him as she wishes she could love you, as a lover, as a husband. It is tearing her up inside."

"I see, I am sorry that I have caused her grief, had I only known. However, I do not wish to release Sir Cole from my service, he is a good and loyal man, yet I do not wish to harm her farther. I shall give him such duties to do around the castle that they shall hardly ever have reason to see each other. And also, though I know this seems a bit unorthodox, but I am of a mind…of a mind to let them see each other, in any capacity they wish, discreetly, so as not to bring shame to my court here."

"My lord Bartimaeus, you are a good man."

"You and Morwen have blessed my kingdom, I could do no other."

"It is such magnanimity that I greatly admire in you Bartimaeus, and a reason why I did decide to bestow this blessing upon you. Now, I must be going, you understand."

"Of course, my lord, thank you my lord. You shall always be honored here within these walls and throughout this kingdom."

"Yes, my lord, I know." Helm said with a smile. "Now, fare thee well, take good care of my son and perhaps we shall meet again, aye?"

"Aye, my lord."

"Oh, and one last thing."

"Yes my lord?"

"I have already spoken of this to Morwen, I would appreciate it if we kept the boy's true parentage just between us three. Proclaim yourself as the father, it shall just be…easier…that way."

"Of course, my lord, of course."

A/N: Thank you for reading please review but NO FLAMES.