Its been a while hasn't it! I decided to revamp the entire story and give it one more go. Before, it was entirely disjointed ): Looking back on it was just "buhh!!"

An Unfortunate History

All they knew was that he came from an unfortunate city- far away.

Harsh winds caressed against the rain made it impossible to see in the distance from the silent home. Everything was quiet and still with only the shuffling of feet against the stone floors and hissing whispers against the corridors without a definite source. She pulled her long hair, platinum blonde- close to white, high above her head as if styling it before looking left and right to check how it appeared in both angles; she allowed it to drop before pushing a few locks from her bang from in front of her eyes and pulled them back for another style- this time a smile crept across her heart shaped face and tanned features. A small blue dress hung off her shoulders loosely before she dropped her hair and her hands relaxed in her lap before she looked in the mirror for a short period of time as if admiring herself with a vain grin.

There was a shadow behind her in the mirror, she lowered her gaze and sighed.

"Brother, brother. Trouble sleeping?"

"Not if my sister is to be married in the morning,"

A childish voice mumbled tiredly his green eyes piercing through the girl's back before knocking his head against the fabric of his sister's dress calmly. His own hair, a beautiful shade of silver, slid off his shoulders into a small braid hanging off his shoulder and his night clothes hung off of him loosely and he appeared almost girlish. She giggled at his actions before pulling him by his hand and brought him in front of her then settling him onto her lap and brought the comb to his head as she untied the ribbon holding his hair- she began to comb through the long, messy locks. Unlike her hair, long and straight with a balanced arrangement, his was more of a wilder and vulgar passion that sprang around in bits and pieces without an even order.

"You're so ridiculous, my little brother. I will always be your sister- here for you- even after I am married. He is a good man," she began softly, a melancholy tone lingering in her trying voice, "A very good husband, I am sure,… I will be well, and you should be well. Be happy for me, brother, and smile in the morning, smile for me."

She was begging him kindly as her movements began to lull him to sleep with every stroke of the comb through his thick hair. He mumbled something which she took as a positive response before standing up with the small boy in her arms and laid him against the sheets of her bed. She kissed his forehead before caressing his tanned skin with the back of her hand and felt his forehead with a kind softness before lowering her gaze to the floor and went back to the dresser. She continued to brush her own hair with a routine expression of a placid, unemotional silence that spoke volumes of the bride for the morning.

She paused before clutching her eyes angrily, bringing her hand to her face and took a deep breath in the candlelight of the room. Water fell against the pane of her windows with a feverish insanity as it slammed constantly without mercy hoping to break down the walls that prevented it from wetting the inhabitants. She placed the comb down before sliding onto the bed beside the young boy and held him close to her as she hummed a small song, stroking his hair sweetly with her eyes closed in a painful expression as she tried to prevent her eyes from spilling over in tears.

"My young love said to me, "My mother won't mind

And my father won't slight you for your lack of kind."

And she stepped away from me and this she did say

It will not be long, love, till our wedding day."

Her words were a crackling whisper with a hoarse sigh against her chest as it heaved tiredly from the pressure she placed on her heart.

In the night there was silence, the door crept open and a knife was plummeted into the sleepers- blood spilt and the two screamed. The servant pretended not to hear for the masters were always slain hours before- the home was so secluded, no one would know. No one would know.

"It wasn't murder, not really," someone would mumble, his fingers shaking over the bloodied bowl of water now stained in red, "It wasn't murder."

All they knew was that he came from an unfortunate city-far away.

--

Cadeyrn De Vercingetorix, Hero of Neverwinter, looked over his shoulder and smiled meekly before sliding his hair out of the armour as he finally clicked it back into place. His eyes wandered to the sleeping man on the bed before staring at him for a while and etched his image into his mind before he closed it angrily, His dark skin against the white sheets and his black hair tossed messily around his countenance with his chest rising steadily against the blanket- he resembled a cat stretched out in luxury against the bed. His eyes twitching a few moments before nestling back against the pillow softly.

"Aarin-," he mumbled under his breath and knelt against the bed as quietly as he could, "I'm sorry."

He knew he could hear him. He knew he was awake even his groundbreaking performance of a resting man- Aarin Gend was far too good a spymaster to let anything like this slip through his fingers. He lowered her head, knowing that the silence was his was of allowing him to fulfil his duty and his task. He smiled at him with a sparked grin before standing up, hiding the shame and tears behind such a bright expression, and headed out the door ignoring the rustling of sheets and the cursing he heard from behind the door as he could already imagine him sitting up on the bed holding his head in his hands and shaking it left to right in a torn motion.

He couldn't let that bother him.

The prisons were colder than he remembered when he passed through them for his final battle. The golden haired elf was in the corner, her expression dead and cold, as Caderyn fell to his knees and clutched the bars strongly. His armour clanked as he fell against the stone ground his expression twisted in one of hurt and hope as he watched Aribeth, the betrayer, murder herself internally. His eyebrows frowned and his mouth formed the shape of a smile and showed he was trying to find the right words to use before he only breathed for a few seconds of silence.

"Aribeth," he whispered breathily, his shoulders heaving, "Aribeth… Please. Listen to me."

There was no physical response coming from the fallen figure of the paladin against the stone wall.

"Aribeth," Cadeyrn begged angrily, his expression turning angry, "Aribeth! I'm going to set you free! You- You can't allow yourself to die like this-,"

"That's far enough, Cadeyrn."

Cadeyrn froze, too terrified to look over his shoulder, and stayed focus on watching Aribeth before lowering his head angrily- his fists shaking with rage at the neither fact she wouldn't move nor fight for her life. She lost the will to fight in her guilt.

"Aarin…You were going to let me-,"

"I was going to show you," the dark skinned spymaster began softly, Cadeyrn felt a hand against his head, "Show you that there is nothing more you can do-,"

"Its Lord Nasher's fault."

Aarin Gend took a sharp breath; Cadeyrn knew this topic was dark approach. He was already speaking and he refused to allow it to fester within his mind.

"If Lord Nasher had only listened then Fenthick would be alive- listened to *me*, Aribeth would be shining and the people of Neverwinter would not be crying out for blood to be spilt on the streets for a bitter redemption of lost loved ones!"

Cadeyrn sharply turned towards the dark man, his expression calm but his eyes shook with obvious infuriation at her insults of his master and close ally.

"But what good are the words of a former whore and a mere cleric to the words of the great people of his traitorous council!" Caderyn spat violently at Aarin.

The silver haired man glared at him before standing to try and meet Aarin's level onto to fall short by a few inches.

"Like a good dog," he quarrelled angrily, "You should react to just insults of his name."

It was a split second before Cadeyrn felt himself lifted off the ground. His small stature weighed little as the sudden grasp around his neck sent him to slam against the wall sharply. He gasped for air as Aarin held him by his throat against the prison wall; the man's strong grip was far more deadly than a cleric's hand such as Cadeyrn. The half elf's green pierced against Aarin's dark black eyes as they stared at one another during the time- Aarin's will shook and his hand weakened its grip before he cursed under his breath. Was he willing to throw away everything he wanted in the name of Lord Nasher? Was he so willing?

He released his grip before looking at Aribeth tiredly, smiling bitterly.

"Look at her, Cadeyrn," he mumbled in frustration, "Her eyes… do they resemble the gaze of a woman wanting to live?"

Caderyn met Aribeth's downcast stare. Even he couldn't find a semblance of hope of dream of life lingering within those tired, glazed eyes.

"Hurry, Cadeyrn," Aarin spoke softly with a smile with his figure leaning against the wall, "The guards are coming…"

He stared at him with a lingering passion before taking a few steps back, keeping their eyes locked before turning away and breaking into a run as the soldiers approach faster than expected.

There was a failed attempt to aid a criminal the night before her execution. Aribeth's crimes against Neverwinter were far too high to ignore- Lord Nasher was set on having her death brought about and she took the news with an apathetic dignity. The Hero of Neverwinter was held responsible and soon fled the city- years passed and his role in the revival of the great city was downplayed and soon forgotten due to his rising up against the Lord's wishes.

He disappeared into the night with the name lingering with only one silent spymaster who stood beside the Lord's side through the entire fiasco with a calm apathy.

--

The tavern was busier than usual and the customers were pouring in at a fine rate. Sure, a few important people have been killed in their sleep but why should that bother the party goers and the drinkers. Cadeyrn stared at the dark liquid in his tin cup, swirling with his gestures and his hand moved the cup around in circles to physically show the boredom leaking through the surfaces of his mind. His white hair was cut short, messy and curled around his unusually heart-shaped face. His features were girlish and soft with dark green eyes brimming through the disorganized mane of white

Waterdeep was said to be a bit much livelier than this. He doused the liquid into his lips and drank it down with one gulp before slapping the cup back onto the table with a gasp of satisfaction. He wasn't at all enjoying the drink but to put on a show of appearing manly- he had to make it look far more believable. It must have been working- a red haired bard (not a bad looker) managed to waltz her way across the room beside him.

"I've seen you before…," she whispered, glancing almost searchingly.

"Did you ever work in a place called the Moonstone Mask?"

"Isn't that a brothel in Neverwinter?"

"The fact you're asking is proof you haven't- therefore, I have no idea how we could have possibly met.."

The man slapped his armoured hand on the table again as the red head studied his features and pursed her lips together in a contortion of concentration.

"More ale!"

He berated in a slight slur and began to scratch at his head with a yawn. The bard smiled before leaning over, tilting her head slightly and allowed her luxurious locks to fall over her shoulder before brushing it back slowly with a flick of her wrist.

"The name's Sharwyn,"

The man watched her incredulously before pointing to an ale cup beside her, obviously belonging to another person, and refused to answer yet pointed passionately. Sharwyn rolled her eyes before grabbing the handle and sliding it over into the man's waiting hands. He grinned cheekily at her before ruffling his own cropped hair.

"Caderyn De Vercingetorix- Pleasure to meet your acquaintance. Actually… No. The pleasure is all yours because I can't find any part of my heart that is gaining pleasure- so that leaves only you."

Sharwyn raised an eyebrow at the name and her lips frowned at his response to her appearance- he wasn't like the other men that seemed far too interested in knowing her... Infact, he seemed interested in anything other than her. It struck her as familiar yet it seemed sloppily made and rather unnecessarily intricate. Her tone was flat and slightly confused as she responded carefully:

"Cadeyrn De Vercingetorix….Seems like something someone would make up upon a whim,"

"Bards such as yourself should know a good whim can go a long way,"

"Are you against my music?"

"Anything that is too stupid to be spoken is always sung."

The silver haired man's comment gained in a sharp jerk of his head as the slap remained upon his face in a lingering imprint of a woman's hand. He made a silent expression of pain as he mouthed the words 'ouch' while taking his tongue to lick the insides of his stinging cheek. Sharwyn glared at him through her hair before leaning back, making a tension between them and allowing it to fester and linger around before speaking again.

"Giving way to temptations and educated insolence is something I don't see the need in partaking."

"The only way of getting rid of temptation is yielding to it-,"

"For such a childish face, you speak such adulteries- Interesting',"

Caderyn glared up at the woman before looking away solemnly. Sharwyn sighed and brushed at her hair once more, taking a few pieces and twirling them within her fingers,

"Are you happy with yourself to be making such statements, young man?"

Caderyn raised an eyebrow at the question, paused, then chuckled slightly. Sharwyn looked him over slightly, now taking note of his drinking figure. He was small- short- and rather petite to match his girlish face. He was what one would consider a pretty boy among the high rolling men- Sharwyn could only agree to the fact that it added to the mystery. She could tell in his expressions and that strange grin with a dangerous air that she had seen this man before- she had spoken with this man before.

"Happiness comes from good health-,"he thought for a moment, "-and a bad memory"

The girlish looking boy smiled, his heavy weapon twirling in his hands before he chuckled to himself a hearty giggle and leaned back in his seat- fumbling slightly before gaining back his balance. The Bard signed and shook her head, gaining nothing from engaging in this conversation as Caderyn already began to wave as he slid off the chair- his walk was slightly swayed before he started up the stairs of Drogan's Inn with a mumbled song on his lips.

The irony and hypocrisy of that was too great for even Sharwyn to laugh.