This is my first fanfic. So, tell me what you think. It's a scene more than a story, and it assumes (contrary to the game) that resurrection magic is almost unheard-of rare.

Fresh from their victory over Firkraag, the battered and wounded party walked wearily to the gates of the ruins, longing to see the sun and to be free from this pit of death. Oren, blade and Bhaalspawn, led them out into the early evening light and the fresh breezes of the Windspear hills. His wounds must have clouded his senses, for the normally alert bard did not see the group that waited for them until it was too late.

"Ah, the Bhaalspawn," their leader sneered, "your time has come at last!"

"Wait! What?" Oren stammered in confusion, but it was too late. The foes were drawing their weapons and moving quickly toward Oren and his friends. Oren was weary, but he dug deep into his reserves of power for one last fight. He pulled his feet together and rose to his toes; he held his long slender blades at arms length, their graceful curves a lethal extension of his long body. He began his beautiful, deadly dance, whirling among his enemies, the spiralling blades glinting in the sun, cutting bodies as a reaver cuts wheat. His fellows followed his lead, their battle cries driving the exhaustion and pain from their bodies. With crashing steel and crushing bone, Oren and his company set upon their would-be destroyers. The enemy fell one by one until only their leader, battered and covered in blood, stood. Oren made a great spinning, balletic leap toward him and sent the blade in his right hand speeding downward at the leader's collarbone. But, the leader lifted his shield and the sword fell harmlessly aside. His face twisted in a grimace of pain and malice, the enemy raised his longsword into Oren's unarmoured chest as Minsc struck a savage two-handed blow that sundered the enemy's helmet and his skull.

As the enemy fell, so too did the sword from Oren's chest. He clutched at the wound gasping for breath. Jaheira's scream pierced the air and echoed off the hillsides, "No!" She ran to him, and caught him as he fell. "No," she sobbed, "No." Blood gurgled on his lips and his blue eyes looked vaguely up at her face. "Not again," she choked, wiping the blood from his mouth, "not again. You can't leave us Oren. Don't leave." His body went still. She was whispering now, "Don't leave, Oren. Don't leave me." She pulled his head to her chest, and laid her face down in his sandy brown hair. Tears streamed from her eyes and fell on his lifeless head.

Keldorn came over and placed a hand on her shoulder. He stood for a long moment before he said sadly, "Come Jaheira. It is finished now."

She looked up at him angrily, "No! It is not finished. It cannot be finished."

"Come, we shall carry him to Athkatla, and he will be given a hero's funeral."

"No! We shall stay here!" she retorted. She lowered her voice, "Please, Keldorn. I cannot travel. We must stay here just for tonight."

"Very well," he said.

***

Jaheira's sadness gave way to anger. Why had she never told him? Why had she been so stupid? She had sacrificed so much for him, as he had for her. She had never felt the way she did when she walked by him stride for stride, his soft singing urging her on those last few miles of a long day's travels. She smiled for a moment; he was always singing. Her smile broke, she pounded her fist into her thigh in anger and bitter tears filled her eyes. She had said it in her heart a thousand times, why had she never said it on her lips?! She loved him. She loved him with all her being. And now she could never tell him. With this thought she felt a draining in her body, like she was being totally emptied. She tried to cry again, but she had run out of tears. She wished he was back, if just for a second, just so she could say what she so longed to say.

Then, a sudden wave of hope filled her. She remembered a story, told to her by another Harper. He told of a fallen woman who was brought back by the mercy of Selune, the Harper goddess, through the deep love her husband, one of Selune's clerics. Jaheira wondered, would the goddess grant her prayer; would she give her the spell? It was potent, and it was rarely bestowed. Plus, had she not renounced the Harpers? Would the Harper goddess even listen to her? If she denied the plea, the consequences could be disastrous. Nonetheless, it was Jaheira's only chance. She raised her eyes to the heavens and began to pray.

***

The next morning, Jaheira rose with the sun. She walked to the place where Oren's body had been laid out and knelt beside him. She put her hand on his cold chest and closed her eyes. Had her prayers been answered? Did she have the spell? Could she raise him from the dead? She began the incantation. As she completed the first line, she felt a jolt. The life force from her body began to run out of her and into Oren. She continued. With each word she spoke, more of the force left her, and she began to weaken. Still though, it was not enough to bring him back. The words became difficult; she began to stutter. Still, he did not awaken. It would soon be too much. She felt her own life starting to slip away. No! She told herself in determination, she must carry on with the spell! If she could not be with him in life, she would rather be with him in death. With her last ounce of strength, she recited one more line of the incantation.

Just before she began to slump, Oren's eyes fluttered open! He coughed, and Jaheira ceased chanting. She opened her eyes, and saw him looking up at her. With the last bit of energy she possessed, her face cracked into a smile. Weakly, and with great effort, he sat up and put his arms around her, and they held each other up, neither strong enough to support themselves on their own. Tears began to flow down her face. She spoke softly, slowly, "I thought I had lost you."

"You did," he said. "Elysium is a wonderful, beautiful place, a perfect paradise. It's almost everything I could ever want."

"Almost?" she asked.

He gently lifted her chin and looked deep into her green eyes. "Almost," he said.

"Oren I." She was too weak to finish speaking.

He pulled her closer. "I know," he said. "I love you too."