King of Shadows, Queen of Light

Disclaimers:

1.English is not my native language. I appreciate any constructive corrections; I give my due thanks to those who already have done so. It really helps me to get better, so please feel free to leave a review.

2.There is some language in these chapters occasionally; nothing really serious, but be warned if you are offended by such things.

3.For this chapter the following songs were playing, lending inspiration: Oltremare from Ludovico Einaudi's Divenire, and two delightful little piecesfrom the soundtrack of Much Ado About Nothing by Patrick Doyle: Did I Not Tell You and The Sweetest Lady.

4.As always, I strongly regret that I do not own any of the main characters, especially a certain paladin… Arrighan is entirely my fault, though.

Chapter Twenty-One

"Son of a…!" The piece of bacon burnt my mouth hard enough that I had to exclaim out loud, but fortunately had enough self-control to stop it in time. I probably already offended the god enough for one day, I thought grimly. The first thing that came out of my mouth right after I opened my eyes was a cussword instead of prayer…adding to that, I definitely had unclean thoughts in front of the altar in His chapel of all places. Continuing the day by cussing while eating in the company of the selfsame person who inspired those very thoughts would not have been a wise move.

So I just grabbed my fork and knife and applied them on my bacon and eggs with unnecessary force while glaring at the plate with the zealous determination of a crusader.

"Careful there, my lady." Casavir warned, with mild amusement on his face. "However much you insist, that plate is not a target substitute for proper blade alignment."

"Yeah, I am aware of that. "I muttered, shoveling food into my mouth, and not caring if he disapproved of my eating habits. Nobles. "And I am trying to calm down." I glared at him, seeing that raised eyebrow. "Paladin's honor, I do. But…" I waved my fork towards the bar. "That's just…"

I didn't quite understand why I was so upset. Intellectually I was perfectly fine with the thought of my uncle having an affair. He was a nice enough man when he did not drink too much ale (lately I noticed that those occasions were more and more rare), and he had a good heart behind that all-business façade he liked to keep up. I was even amused by the possibility—didn't I just joke about this with Neeshka yesterday, and then giggled inwardly practically all the way back from the Temple to the Flagon? And I liked Shandra, and she was so lonely and forlorn after she lost everything in that fire, and more than once in the past I noticed how Duncan looked at her and how she looked at him…

Yet, as I watched the two of them working next to each other at the bar now, Duncan restocking kegs and bottles, Shandra cleaning some mugs and glasses, wearing a much cuter version of Qara's barmaid outfit, seeing their eyes lit up as they looked at each other, their smiles, the way their shoulders brushed together every now and then…I could not help but felt something constrict in my chest. They looked so…for the lack of better words, domestic, and homey and happy—that entire scene should have filled me with light and smiles. Instead all I felt is some kind of gray bitterness creeping towards my heart and a little voice whispering 'you will never have that, never, never, never…'

I pushed my plate away from me and stood, losing all desire to continue.

"I think I am done with this." I tried not to show what ate at me, and could only hope I succeeded. Or hopefully he thought it was the trial. "I need to talk to Wolf about something, then I guess I am off to Hassim's shop for a fitting…provided I can find someone to come with me. Sand made me promise I'll be a good girl and don't walk around alone."

"And I don't suppose you want to ask Shandra along just now." Casavir put his fork down and nodded. He sounded so darned understanding! I gritted my teeth. However, he was exactly right. I did not desire Shandra's company, not the least, not right now. "Well, luckily for you, my lady, Elanee is here…" he glanced at the table where my druidess was busy scribbling on a piece of parchment, "…and she's sitting with Neeshka, too. That should be suitable company for a…khm…dress fitting, I think." He dabbed on his lips with the napkin Duncan provided and continued, thoughtfully. "Of course, if I recall my conversation with Sand that no doubt he continued with you as well, you are supposed to take, and I quote, 'muscle' with you, too. " He put the napkin, neatly folded, down to the middle of his empty plate, before continuing. "Since our esteemed Khelgar is out and about updating some armor parts, and I am somewhat uncomfortable with the notion of the ranger as an escort for three ladies…" He leaned back on his chair . "I guess it will be my knightly duty to make sure no harm befalls you today."

Did he really say that? I looked at him and I caught a tiny twitch of a smile in the corner of his lips that in the next second reached his eyes.

Oh gods, he really is smiling at me…I felt my heartbeat speed up and there was this strange fluttering feeling in my stomach...

"Oooo, just like olden times!" Neeshka proved, yet again, that she was not averse to listening in on conversations. "So: when are we going?" She bounced up, grabbed my arm, pulling on it repeatedly, like a small child.

I sighed. Patience was a virtue I apparently had to learn to cultivate fast because no one else seemed to have it here.

Fine. I can do patience. How long does it take?

"First, you need to stop acting like you were my unruly kid, Neesh, because if you keep doing that arm-pulling, I'll just have to spank you." I waved my other hand, the one that did not have a tiefling hanging from it. "And it would be self-defense, too."

"I am so not saying the obvious now, Rig." The rogue let go, but her freckles all started dancing at the same time as she grinned a really wicked smile. "Do you see how obviously I am not saying the obvious, Casavir?"

"I obviously have no way I can follow you there." he answered and stood up, face schooled back to impassive. "And so it shall remain."

"No good tiefling rogue points from my two favorite paladins, then?" Neeshka pouted, looking from one of us to the other.

"I never doubted that your heart is gold." Casavir said, and Neeshka's face lit up. "But therein lies the problem, you see?" This time I could distinctly see twinkles in his eyes. "Gold naturally is attracted to its likeness—which explains, of course, how you fell into bad company and became a rogue. Hopefully that soon will be just a bad dream of the past." Neeshka just stared: mini-sermons like that I already inflicted on her a couple dozen times during our travels from Fort Locke to Neverwinter until she was blue in the face.

Casavir now turned to me, with one of his small formal bows.

"My lady, since this is going to be not only a social call or mere stroll, I would suggest armoring yourself. From now on, till your trial's day, you shall not go about merely carrying a sword. I shall do the same."

"How does he do that?" Neeshka sighed, watching him scaling the steps. "Everything he says, by right and nature, should make me want to either puke or backstab him. Every single thing, I swear. Not to mention that aura of insane goodness, which, especially together with yours, for all intents and purposes should drive me nuts." She shook her head. "And instead, after talking to him, I just sit and think and realize how stupid I really used to be …" She glanced at me, still standing, still looking. "It's kinda like when you and I first met, actually, except …"She cleared her throat. "Um…Rig?"

"Yes, Neesh?"

"I know I used to accuse you of drooling at the sight of him, but…"

"Hmmm?"

"It's just…you really should close your mouth."

I think I managed a suitably lofty expression. At least I thought I did until she turned and waved at Elanee.

"El…I think she needs an extra dosage of that herbal thing of yours."

That returned me to reality rather sharply.

"Neesh, why don't you go outside and shout it on the street too, please? "I picked up my cloak from my chair, and hoped that some tattered remnants of my dignity could still be restored as I draped it around my shoulder. Even though Duncan did not open the Flagon until later in the day, so there was no one around I did not know, I felt embarrassed. I really started to lose control, and that was something I just couldn't afford. "See you back here."

"Prickly, prickly." Neeshka did not seem to be insulted. "By the way, I got a really good bottle of wine stashed away, too…if you care for some girl-talk tonight."

I grunted noncommittally and started up on the stairs. I'll probably need that, the way things go, I thought.

Just then, Wolf trotted by, carrying some pails of water so I waved at him to follow me.

"Just the person I needed to talk." I told him. "All is in order?"

"Sure is, lady." he grinned. His clothes were spotless and well-mended, if worn, he had real shoes and even wore a belt with a pouch and a knife on it. I was glad to see that. "Whaddya need?" His manners and dialect, though, did not change much since I first saw him on the streets.

I looked around.

"First of all—where is the new boy?" I asked quietly.

He looked at me blankly for a moment, then winked conspiratorially, as if he realized who was asking the question.

"Jus' for you, lady…he's in the kitchen. The wizard said he's not to go to the stables or outside, or even amongst the patrons when the Inn's open."

I smiled inwardly at the thought of Sand thinking I will not figure out where he was going to hide Marcus until the trial.

"Smart move, Sand." I murmured. Then, louder: "That's good, Wolf, keep it that way. Did the wizard tell you who he is?"

"To me, yes." Wolf beamed with pride. "To everyone else he's just another urchin from the Docks…"He looked around and lowered his voice. "Don't fret, lady, we'll make sure he'll be jus' fine. He'll sleep in the kitchen and when that stupid trial starts we'll make sure he gets up to the castle in no time and safe besides. No one pays attention to a bunch of street kids runnin' around. Master Sand says he'll leave word at the gate so Marcus can get in."

I nodded. That was all arranged, then. As much as I wanted to see him and make sure he was all right, I understood Sand's unspoken message: Marcus was here to hide, not for me to try to mother-hen him.

"Anythin' else?" Wolf asked. ""Cos I need to get goin' with my chores." He slapped his forehead. "Yeah, before I forget…your laundry was done and it should be in your room. Shandra, I hope you don't mind, grabbed it from your pack last night while you were in the Temple and gave the stuff to Vana."

"No, that's fine." I tried to sound completely neutral, as I continued—this was a perfect opening to ask him about my little problem. "Which actually reminds me, Wolf… remember that night the Flagon was attacked? "He nodded. "What with all the traveling and the things happening lately I just had time to think and remember that I had my one good nightgown all blooded up that night…I wrote out a little note to whoever was doing the laundry that week to see if it can be salvaged but somehow I never got to ask again…" I smiled, a bit shyly. "It's just that I kind of liked the lace on it…"

My heart gave a dull thud at the sight of guilt spreading out on Wolf's face.

"'m sorry." he mumbled. "I hoped you wouldn't ask…"'m gonna get killed, but I shoulda thought you'd figure it out sooner or later…"

"Wolf, what are you talking about?" I asked, a bit befuddled. Surely there was something there, especially to see just how shaken he looked over this all of a sudden…

"It's just that we…" He shrugged, resigned. "No use for hidin' it now, I'll just let everyone know you figured us out. We meant it as a present… The girls even scavenged up other pieces of stuff that got blooded or torn …" He tugged at his hair and frowned. "We just thought you might like something that reminded you of us and everyone else here at the Flagon. Them is making you a quilt, lady…it's almost done, but we try to get pieces from everyone and that's slow. Sorry you couldn't find your thing, but honest, we're jus' happy you didn't even notice it was gone."

"Oh." I felt a bit stupid. "So…you Irregulars took it, then?"

"Yeah…" He nodded. "Vana and Meg were workin' on it, mostly, on account of them doing the laundry most of times."

"That was a…really sweet idea." I swallowed. "I tell you what: I promise not to tell that I know about it, how's that? That way I won't spoil their efforts." Who would have thought they were doing something like that? I was moved.

"That's mighty kind of you, lady." he said with a relieved grin. "'specially as it might've looked like we just filched it."

"Well, you obviously didn't." I patted his head absent-mindedly. He didn't particularly like that, I knew, but I just couldn't resist, and there was no one else there to see it, so his dignity didn't get hurt. He took his dignity very seriously, did Wolf. "Thank you, again. I'll let you go back to your chores, I have mine as well."

"Smiting evil again, eh, lady?" He grinned, ducked my hand and ran back to his pails of water.

Odd, that. I pondered for a while as I let myself into my room. So if the Irregulars took my nightgown and cut it all up for quilt squares, I wonder how did he…I shook my head. I made a promise not to dwell on that, back at the Temple, and here I was again. My all-too inquisitive mind was at work. I really should divert those energies into preparing myself for the trial and the inevitable challenge of exchanging barbed words with the Luskan ambassador instead.

I looked at the neat stacks of laundry on my bed, and realized that I was really going to have an actual gown fitting. The logical extension of that followed, gripping my stomach with its cold claws, more so than any dread caused by monsters: that meant stripping in front of a bunch of seamstresses including that horrible old crone who could 'tsk,tsk' like no one else I knew except maybe Sand. So that meant another bath, another change, before I could put on my armor, because really, when all was said and done, Sand was right: this set of underwear just wouldn't do, despite the nice lace.

Sometimes I really wanted nothing else but being back in West Harbor with the most exciting thing in my life being helping at a mare's foaling to soothe the pain. Multiple changing of clothes or even thinking about such things did not enter my word…I guessed now that I was a squire of Neverwinter, those things needed to be considered natural. And really, there was nothing I could do about it. The mere fact that I was even concerned over it signaled just how far I came since I left my home village.

So instead of dwelling on it too much, I folded most of the clean clothes back into my chest, grabbed yet another change and headed for the baths, where I was glad to discover that just because Uncle Duncan succeeded in the jousts of Love (to borrow a horrible phrase from one of those romances Amie used to be so fond of) he did not forget to tend to the magical apparatus producing hot water in the women's bath. After using up a considerable amount, I almost felt I was ready for just about anything, up to and including clunking through town in full plate accompanied by, yet again, an inexplicably cheerful Neeshka, a thoughtful Elanee and a neutrally and carefully polite Casavir.

Everyone was armed and armored to the teeth--Sand would have been proud. Judging by the protective swirl of Casavir's aura, Detect Evil was hard at work, too. I felt like we were down in those gith caves from which we rescued Shandra, not walking on the streets of the City of Skilled Hands. But either there was no plan out to attack me today, or our little demonstration of overkill worked. We reached Hassim's shop without anything more exciting happening but Neeshka introducing me to the wonders of roasted chestnuts she purchased from a street vendor who stood on a corner by her little cast-iron stove. As the weather was clear but cold that day, the little hot morsels were very welcome, once I figured out how to pop them out of their shells.

"I love these!" I announced after I dusted my palms off, finishing the last one just before the door.

"We could tell." Neeshka grinned. "That was the fastest I've ever seen anyone falling in love, whether with a man or food." She winked at me. "After seeing that, I definitely will not tell you or anyone else about a certain confectioner's shop in Blacklake." She shot an unmistakable look at Casavir who pretended he was not even there. He had to do that a lot since we left the Flagon. Neeshka was telling me details about Duncan and Shandra I really was not sure I needed to hear. Even Elanee's scowls were not enough to make her stop from going into rather intimate details. I did not want to think about how she knew some of them.

"Wicked temptress." I growled. "You do know my weaknesses."

"Traveled with you long enough." She shrugged gracefully. "But my lips are sealed. Pity, though." she sighed. "Their truffles are…divine. Not that I will ever find anyone who will get me some, they are rather pricey." She sniffed. "And I no longer can support my meager income by assisting rich and fat merchants to part from their purses, so…"

"You are shameless." Elanee pursed her lips. "Really…"

"Truth, only the truth." Neeshka said, sticking her tongue out. "I am on the path of righteousness with two holy warriors deciding I can be saved…oh, hello, Hassim, it's us again."

That last one was for the owner of the shop we just crowded into, who greeted us with a polite smile and his customary bow with arms crossed on his chest.

"It is always a delight when you light up my day with your presence, Daughter of Silent Steps." The merchant turned to me and he did not even bat an eye seeing all of us armed and armored to the teeth. "And you, my lady…Everything is arranged for you in the fitting room. If you would please follow me..."

I was ushered into the side room where the ancient seamstress and two of her assistants were waiting. Neeshka and Elanee followed.

"There." My tiefling stretched. "Now El and I can play squire and divest you of your armor while the gown is being brought forth." She looked at the ancient seamstress who was instructing her assistants in a hushed voice. After conferring for a while, the two scurried out through a back door.

"Hope Hassim has something to entertain Casavir with, this is going to take a while." Elanee frowned as she reached up to start loosening the buckles of my pauldrons.

"Oh, for sure." It was always fascinating to see how Neeshka used her tail as a third hand--and a little bit disorienting, too. "Can you imagine how many bored husbands come here with their wives to do nothing but sit in the waiting room, often for hours, while the wives discuss the latest fashion and choose fabrics?" Neeshka sighed. "And they have to come…since they are the ones who pay."

"I hope you are not saying that he means to pay for this!" I exclaimed, just as my breastplate came off with a clanging noise. I waved a hand vaguely towards where Hassim's waiting room was. "That would be…"

"Relax, Rig." The tiefling patted my shoulder. "Payment has already been arranged; you have other things to worry about concerning this trial." She finished unbuckling my back plate and it slid off. "Okay, I can see you are thinking way too much…what is it?"

"Because…I have the feeling I am treated here as a child?" I offered, trying not to show the incredulous anger that started to grow in me again. "Do you have any idea why I might have that feeling, Neesh?"

"Well, I am reasonably sure it's not because El and I are getting your armor off for you." she said in a light voice. Her eyes, though, were serious. "And we all know you can take care of yourself. We are just…well, you are always the one who gets us out of various troubles, right, El?" She looked at the elf, who nodded. "So now, with this trial business…" She tilted her head sideways, "…I think we feel we can give something back. Helping out, you know. Little things, nothing major, like Sand doing the defense or stuff…but we talked and everyone chipped in for this gown. Basically."

"Basically." I repeated. "And that would mean…?"

"Goodness, Rig, you are horrible!" she exclaimed. "You want a detailed breakdown of what do you own down to the least copper so you can pay us back, or what?" She glared at me, with her hands on her hips. "Can you just take it for what's worth, you know, token of friendship and all that stuff you keep talking about all the time?" She threw up her hand and turned to Elanee. "You say something, El, I'm ready to smack her if I keep going."

"You have to learn to receive, child, not just give all the time." Elanee turned to me, smiling slightly, voice calm and serious. "I know it's difficult, it's in your blood and was trained into you as well. But there are times when you need to accept others' help without asking for the opportunity to recompense them." She tapped my shoulder. "That's what friendship is about."

"It's in my blood." I repeated, slightly confused. "What do you mean?"

"You have celestial blood, dear." Elanee said. "The forces of good like to give…but very rarely learn to receive." She smiled. "I am the last one to give you lessons in theology, child, but you might want to contemplate that a bit when you have time."

Last time I felt like this, I was fourteen and I received a stern lecture from Retta Starling about why girls of my age don't climb trees in skirts. I mumbled something about how I will think about it, and that's when the two assistants came back.

"Get that off." The ancient crone barked at me with such ferocity that I had to step back. She shook a bony finger at me, then stepped closer and pinched the fabric of my jerkin between her finger. "Off! You can't try gown on top of this." I forgot just how atrociously strong her accent was.

"I'd do what she says, Rig." said Neeshka, winking. "Remember, last time…"

Yes, I did remember. Last time we were here and she took my measurements, those bony fingers poked at me incessantly, accompanied by her voice bidding me to stay still, to pull my shoulders back, to stand straight…

"I don't understand the fuss." I grumbled while starting to loosen the clasps of my jerkin. "It's just a gown, for pity's sake…"

"Just a gown, eh?" The old woman's black eyes sparkled. "Well, maybe someone else has other opinion, eh? Maybe we'll show it to someone once on, eh?"

"Can we just get this over with?" I whispered to Elanee. I started to feel like I'd much rater spend two nights face down on the cold marble of Tyr's temple than any more time here enduring all…

"Oooh." said Neeshka just then. "That's pretty!"

I turned. The two assistants were draping the gown on a couch, waiting for me to get my things off and step in it.

"See?" the ancient crone barked at me again, flashing a toothy grin. "Makes you look like angel, don't doubt."

It was more understated than I dreaded and more beautiful than I ever imagined, off-white with cream and gold vine-and pomegranate motifs woven into its bodice. I stared. I gulped. Elanee prodded me. Neeshka tapped my arm. I nodded, like a sleepwalker, finished getting my things off, lifted my arms, let them drape the gown over my shoulders. It had a deceptively simple cut, the neckline high and modest with gold lace at throat and cuffs, hugging me tight down to the hips and flaring out to a full skirt reaching the floor. Neeshka did the lacings up in the back, tied the ends, fussed with my hair, then let the old woman take over with her pins and measuring tape.

"Almost." the crone hummed, her fingers dancing with pins, needles and thread around my waist. "Just a bit more in here…lost weight, eh?" One of her assistants brought a footstool; she was so tiny she needed to stand on it to reach my shoulders. "And the shoulders… need to let out… too much sword work… mmm…" She kept humming, occasionally slipping into a dialect none of us understood, snapping at her assistants for more thread or needle from time to time. She seemed happier when working, somehow, the wrinkles on her face less deep, her eyes sparkling with a hidden fire. Neeshka and Elanee sat on the couch, watching her with something close to awe, and I understood. I could feel her magic as she flittered around me, almost like a small pixie, barking commands to her assistants, pinching the fabric between her fingers, her needles flashing with more than just the sunlight reflecting from them.

Finally, after what seemed hours, she climbed from her stool, stepped back and clapped her hands together.

"There." she announced. "You. Move now…turn around, like so." She twirled her fingers.

I obeyed. She narrowed her eyes, surveying me critically.

"Feels different, eh?"

"Feels like…" I stepped around, experimentally. "Feels like I have…nothing on."

"Hah!" The crone smiled. "Good. Light as feather, strong as steel, beautiful like heavens. Fabric Hassim gets, gown I make from fabric, is like person wearing it, when I do good work." She looked at Neeshka. "Right, eh?" She barked a command at one of her women who fled the room; I assumed to get some last-minute thing.

"I got out of some tight spots, thanks to you and your talents, Ancient One…" My tiefling grinned. "But with this one…wow, this is amazing." she breathed. "I never saw you wearing anything else but armor or military clothing, Rig…tell you what, if those at the High Court see you in this, the Claven woman and her stupid accusations don't stand a chance."

"Do you think this really makes that much of a difference?" I said, slightly worried and a bit embarrassed. Last time I had a dress on, it was back in West Harbor at one of the last Harvest Fairs. I ended up ripping it disastrously, getting into a fight when one of the teamsters coming into the village tried to be a bit too friendly with Amie. I hardly remembered how to move in one, and I told as much aloud now.

"I don't think you'll have any problems." Elanee assured me, smiling. "Once learned, you don't forget things like that."

"But this one is so…different." I made some experimental moves: crouch, spring, duck. "Very much nicer than anything I've ever had. And yet…it's like a second skin." The touch of the fabric on my skin was cool and soft, calming and reassuring somehow. I tried a feint. "Hmmm…I like that it does not have a train, and that the sleeves are not of that horrible dangling kind you see on some of the ladies around Blacklake." There was only a little flare-out at the wrists, trimmed in a thin ribbon of lace--the crone called it 'trumpet-sleeve'. "I wonder…" My two companions watched me with amusement as I spun around and tried a kick to the side. "Hey, it works!" I grinned back at them, tried a full spin this time, enjoying the feel of freedom. "Look, it's…oh."

That last kick and spin took me in front of the door that was filled with the fully armored figure of Casavir, watching me as I tried to regain my balance on one leg, with my arms spread. That silly grin was still on my face, stretching ear to ear.

I don't know exactly what got into me but I did it anyway. There were quite a number of unarmed attacks in the Path of the Silver Fire, and I went ahead and threw the first one that came to my mind straight at him.

"Look, I can do even that!" I was not exactly squealing in glee, but in retrospect it was rather close to that. "Isn't this great?"

"Indeed." He countered without a blink; I dodged his counterattack and threw a kick, forgetting that I was unarmored. Nevertheless, or probably precisely because of that, he couldn't dodge that one, and I connected, perhaps with a tad more force than I intended..

"Ouch." I said, daintily. I had some tears in my eyes.

"Ouch." I heard him saying at the exact same time.

I withdrew the foot, gently lowering to the ground.

"Now that was stupid of me." I looked up at him. "But it was fun. Sorry. You all right?" I noticed a small heel-shaped dent on his breastplate. I bit my lip. "I did not realize I actually connected with force…I am sorry."

"I told you that you were getting better, my lady." He caught my elbow and helped me to the couch. "Will you believe me now?"

"I guess so." Neeshka scooted down so I can sit; I wiggled my toes experimentally in my stocking. "No break, I think."

"Think or know?" Elanee slid off the couch and got hold off my feet. "Let me see that."

"Aw! El!" It caught me off guard. "I said I am fine…what?"

I felt ridiculous; I was sure I was flushing. Elanee murmured something over my foot, I felt the prickly heat of her healing magic--I guess not everything was fine, after all.

"You know…I manage to go through cave spiders, dire wolves and two crazed gnome werewolves with barely a scratch…" I murmured, leaning back on the couch, and looking up at Casavir. Healing always made me a bit sleepy. "Then I break my toe kicking a full-plate-clad paladin in the chest wearing a court gown. Is that crazy or what?"

The full absurdity of the situation hit me then, exactly the same second when it did the same with him. I saw the silver sparkles in his blue eyes, then my mouth twitched into another, no doubt rather silly grin as I finally was rewarded by his full laugh.

The only thought, flashing through my mind vaguely as I threw my head back and let myself go into a fit of giggles worth three sixteen-year olds, was this: I owe one to Neeshka, He dimples. Oh, he dimples beautiful.