Bonding Time

..

Aegis investigated Xzar's envelope and found it neatly packed with sachets of tea, each numbered. Imoen laughed, tugging the letter down so she and Xan could look at it. "He dotted all the 'i's with hearts!" she cackled. "D'aww, Aegy, he's the most messed-up choice in lover ever, but these 'i's clearly prove it: he's done smitten with you!"

"He sent me tea," Aegis murmured, and Kivan did come up to investigate at the word 'lover.'

Xan looked at Imoen. "When did you start approving of this relationship?" He decided not to comment on 'The Excile' or how Imoen seemed to be completely refraining from mentioning the halfling.

Imoen shrugged. "When a tattoo deflected an axe. Duh! Besides, look how cute this phrasing is. It's all meek! Aegis, you write back to him! You write back right now! Tell him about Ulcaster and make him all terribly jealous so he has to come back! Tell him about how Edwin took on nearly fifty wraiths with fireballs and we slaughtered ghouls by the pack and there were skeletons everywhere with- you know what, let me help you write this letter, I'm the better storyteller."

"Sooo..." Branwen began. "Xan, I think maybe you and I should head into town and wind down a wee bit. We both need baths regardless." Xan realized this was a good idea, but took a moment to go and disguise Aegis; she was the most recognizable member in the party.

"This 'tea' is laced with several poisons," Kivan abruptly noted.

"Yeah! Don't worry about it," Aegis told him, holding still for the disguise spell. "Xzar has me working up an immunity to them." The wild elf raised a brow at her. "He's an alchemist. It's a long story."

Imoen flailed. "Aegy! You and I need to write this letter right now!" Aegis laughed and moved to sit with her.

Branwen put an arm around Xan's shoulders as he returned to her. "Looks like they're about to take some much needed sisterly bonding time," she added in a softer voice. "Come on. We smell like grave dirt." Kivan took note and followed them out.

..

Xan and Branwen picked the Red Sheaf for the quieter atmosphere. When the innkeeper asked for the type of suite, the elf hesitated. "Merchant," he said slowly, glancing up at Branwen. She nodded her assent; they pushed their beds together every night in a peasant suite anyway, and sleeping on the seam between two beds was hardly the most comfortable thing in the world.

They had a tub of hot water sent up. When they reached the room, Branwen told Xan to take his turn bathing first, and he hurried behind a thin screen to do so. Branwen settled down to take her armor off. She was filthy and her clothing was grungy after so many days underground, but there was nothing much to do about that until she could bathe.

"Er, Xan," she realized. "The light from the window behind you is making a lovely, sharp silhouette on the screen."

A moment passed in silence. Then he chuckled and went to close the shutters. "I think you've seen worse," he realized.

Branwen smiled, digging out a comb so she could work her hair free of tangles before she bathed. She kicked off her boots as she worked, and stretched her feet. "Well there's a truth. Good job putting on some weight, by the way."

"I had an, ahem, ample coach."

Branwen was mostly beyond puns, but she thought about that one for a bit as she combed. "Hey now..."

"Will you come help me with my hair for a few minutes?" the enchanter asked.

"Sure thing," she agreed, standing up and wincing as she combed out a thick knot. She rounded the screen and then paused. Her elf was standing there with his back facing her, peering in a mirror and fussing with his braids. He was entirely nude. Her brain tried to sort through what this signified.

He had gained weight, though he was still unnaturally lithe in her estimation. He had almost no butt or hips to him whatsoever. His legs had proper muscular definition for a slender person, but the circumference of each limb was next to nothing. She'd never noticed how small his feet were before. Dainty. So... adorably dainty. The fact that his skin was the pale blue-white of porcelain only reinforced her impression.

When he saw her reflection, he twisted and looked back at her. "Ah..." he hesitated at her uncertain expression. "It is fine. I asked," he reminded her.

"What are we doing now?" she asked, approaching him slowly. He shrunk a little defensively but otherwise held still. There were goosebumps on his skin, and she wondered if Xan were trying to push the limits of his own comfort.

"Adapting," the enchanter answered quickly, crossing his arms defensively over his chest and chafing his arms. "A-although my hair is quite long, I must beseech you not to touch lower than my mid-back at present."

"Oh, this," Branwen blew out in a rush of air, "could be a bad idea," she muttered. Then she stepped forward and began lifting the braids up where she could unravel them above his head. It took a braid or two before he became comfortable with this setup. Then he lifted his hands to help her. They worked in silence for a bit. "I noticed something today I wanted to point out to you. It's about how fast you turned on Edwin."

"Turned on? He attacked Dynaheir." Was everyone going to chastise him for doing the right thing?

"Right. Well, Edwin is a real piece of work," she agreed. "Remember, though, you were getting along with him just before that. I saw you didn't blink twice at Viconia's involvement. You haven't said a word against Kagain, Ajantis, Aegis, or Kivan about death. So I thought, maybe it wasn't what Edwin said that put you so far over the edge. Maybe it was how he touched her? Food for thought. I wasn't trying to make any statement on Edwin, anyway, I was just trying to figure out if you were okay."

"I..." the elf shuddered, moved by his companion's constant attention to his psyche. He considered her words for a moment. "Would it be... inappropriate... for me to lean back into you?" he asked sheepishly.

"Mm? Nae, of course not. Hold up, though." She gathered up his hair and then draped it over his shoulder. "There you go."

"I won't bother you?" he hesitated as he slowly stepped backwards and pressed his weight into her.

Branwen rolled her eyes and tousled his hair reassuringly a moment before going back to working out the last few braids. Xan took in a deep breath, getting used to the physical contact he himself had initiated. They worked the rest of his hair free in silence and then Branwen shook his hair loose and scratched over his scalp. His eyes half-closed in appreciation. Her thumbs paused at the base of his skull and then pressed suspiciously downward along his neck.

"You are always real tense," Branwen noticed, digging her fingers gently into a muscle as she pulled his shoulder backwards. "I've never met a battered warrior with muscles as stiff as yours."

"Nerves?" he suggested, wincing and then sighing contently.

"I'll believe that," she agreed. "If you wanted to lay down on your belly, I could give you a brand new spine in an hour."

Something must have come off wrong about her offer. "No!" he exclaimed abruptly, leaping away from her and clutching himself. "I-I am ready to bathe now!" he sniffed dismissively.

Branwen lifted a brow and smirked, placing her hands on her hips as she watched him incredulously. "You are aware I lack the proper equipment to take advantage of you quite like that, aren't you?"

Her elf turned a little gray and shrunk into himself, and the cleric realized she'd made another misstep.

Branwen lifted her hands placatingly, backing up from him. "I'm sorry," she told him honestly. "Xan, I'm sorry. I can't always see where the line of yours is, but I'm always sorry when I cross it."

Her elf quivered, clutching at his own shoulders and glancing from her to the furnishing rapidly. "I... I know. Seldarine help me, I know. Oh, I must irritate you," he spat at last in mournful frustration. "I must be quite the inconsistent trial on your patience."

"Sunburns irritate me. You? Well, no, not so much. I mean of course it can be frustrating not knowing how to help someone, but that's one of those bearable life frustrations I think. And hardly the fault of the unhelped person."

"Bearable life frustrations?" he muttered vexedly, cyan eyes daring about as if his mind couldn't sit still.

"Like marching in the rain, suppose, or running out of ham," Branwen explained as best she could.

He smiled a little at that, weakly, and looked at the floor. "I can repay you for my mood swings by ensuring you never run out of ham?" he asked hopefully.

"Repay me, he says!" she gasped. "Why don't I throw in a nightly foot rub for you to make the deal a mite fairer!"

He chuckled. "Nildoen'nin... I cannot fathom you at times. You make life simpler. Easier to grasp."

She approached him hesitantly again. "Would you like your foot rub now or later?" she teased, touching his shoulders. When he didn't protest, she eased her arms around his own and hugged him from behind. "I'm sweet on you, I am," she confessed to him, pressing a kiss to his temple. "One way or another. Not sure why, and not inclined to care much."

Her words must have frightened him in a different way, because his eyes widened but he did not try to retreat. "I... Branwen, I-I can't..."

"Relax," she laughed. "And don't pretend I don't know you. Or that you don't know me! You just keep me updated on the rules, and we'll be right as rain."

"The... the 'rules'?" he asked. Rules for what she could do and say? It was hard for him to know what of a million possible words might upset him. The rush to escape often came so quickly, so terrifyingly...

"Aye. 'No sleeping with Ajantis.' Check! Got that one loud and clear the night you decided to go bar hopping with Imoen, I did."

The elf turned scarlet. "If you want to- if you need to- Branwen, I won't stop you from-! I can't replace-!"

She kissed his hair again and squeezed him tightly with both arms. The elf swallowed hard, closing his eyes and trying to draw on everything he knew of his companion to steady himself. After a long moment, he hugged her arms to himself and took in a trembling breath.

"What do you need from me right now?" she asked him. "I'm here. I won't hurt you in any way. You are absolutely and entirely safe with me." He was quiet. "Well. I think there's a bath waiting for you," she reminded him, turning about. "Oh, would you look at that, there is! Oh and it's all good and steamining, now it is."

"Would you... Would you touch my ears?" he asked her meekly.

Branwen turned back to him in surprise. "What now?" Khalid had made it clear that elf ears were sensitive, and that unsolicited contact was a bit like grazing a woman's breast. It was one of the reasons she'd required at least some form of permission to start acting like Xan's portable ear muffs.

"My... my e-ears," he murmured, tilting his head back to look up at her. His cheeks were red again, and he gave a heavy swallow she watched run the length of his throat. "I-I... Please?"

Branwen noticed with fascination that his blush extended out to the tips of his ears. Cyan eyes searched her face as his fingers clutched for purchase on her arms in hesitant caresses. His heart was beating rapidly, and it was difficult to tell if he was terrified, excited, or some mixture of both. She thought about telling him this seemed ill-advised, but it looked like her enchanter was desperately trying to let her in past his defenses.

A slight heat rose up in her own face as she lifted up a hand to gently touch his neck. Despite the fact that he'd gone days without bathing just as she had, his skin was smooth under her fingertips. He lowly lowered his head again, his eyes losing focus as she traced uncertainly over his shoulder and throat. She shifted her other arm so it was supporting him across the chest, and then pressed her fingers to his scalp and tried to gently lean his head to the side.

Xan clutched at her sleeve uncertainly, slowly complying with her wordless urging. He rested his cheek against her bicep and the crook of her elbow, with his chin propped against her forearm. Her fingers trailed gently up the curve of his throat for a long moment, reassuring him. Then she turned her hand over, and closed her fingers and thumb gently around his upward facing ear. A tremble rushed through him and he hugged tightly to her supportive arm.

As her fingers rubbed gently up and down the lower lobe of his ear, Branwen noticed that Xan sank his weight back into her body, and his eyes closed to slits. A little shudder passed through him. The ear perked up noticeably under her fingers.

"Would you tell me what this feels like to you?" she asked him after a time, because she really had no frame of reference. She felt vaguely like she was scruffing a cat.

"Soothing," he answered, breathing slowly and deeply. "But... vulnerable... The only other people I would be comfortable with touching them would be my parents or older siblings..."

"Khalid called it 'intimate,' " she told him.

"Intimate has more than one meaning," he answered, blushing hot again. "But... but from non-family... yes."

"So..." she hazarded, caressing one ear out to the tip. "You find this... sort of erotic then?" she suggested as gently as she knew how.

Xan grimaced hard, desperately trying to squash down the memory that he'd only known Branwen a pair of months. "Is that okay?" he asked in a cracked whisper.

He was letting her past his defenses. "Let me know if you need me to stop," she answered, dipping her head low and pressing a kiss gently behind the exposed ear. He gave a violent tremble and then melted shaking into her arms, a weak mewl escaping his lips. The sound stood the hair up on the back of her neck and she was suddenly possessed by a need to lavish attention on him.

"You know me," she murmured reassuringly into his ear, brushing her lips along the length of his neck and embracing him tightly.

His eyes widened but he didn't say a word as her thumb caressed over the ear lobe and her fingers scratched gently through his hair. Then she nuzzled against the upturned side of his face, ear included, and tucked her fingers under his face and around his throat to gently touch the other ear. For a moment, he didn't breathe.

"You know I wouldn't hurt you," his cleric promised him.

The enchanter could feel his heart thundering in his breast. After a moment of near panic and frantic delight, he lifted an arm to wrap gently up about her neck. He clutched tightly against her for support, and whispered her name in fevered affection and gratitude.

He let Branwen dote on him in a way he had never before been doted on; and permitted her a level of intimacy he had not volunteered in decades. The touch was sweet and spoke of higher things than objectification and abuse. His legs were boneless.

He felt wanted. Not craved, not lusted after, but innocently and truly wanted.

His eyes watered. A few rapid blinks later, and tears beaded in their corners. As much as his head tried to drag him down, the butterflies in his stomach and the lightness in his breast kept him afloat. Feelings of insignificance, transience and impropriety bowed to the fondness and adoration she channeled through her touch.

"You're crying," she realized abruptly. "Xan? Xan, are you okay?"

"Y-yes!" he gasped, startled and desperate for her not to pull back from him. "Yes... I... Yes. I'm... I am happy."

She grunted, considering him. Then she kissed the tears away, held him tightly, and rocked him for a bit. He closed his eyes briefly and then turned his mouth gently into her cheek. Trusting her was a madness he accepted.

..

Aegis and Imoen chattered on like squirrels. They wrote the letter and braided each other's hair and talked about anything and everything. Including a lot of things only sisters could really talk about:

"So, I've a question. Does every man get... excited... in the morning?" Imoen needed to know.

"As the proud owner of a necromancer, I can confirm that the answer to this question is: yes, but not necessarily always."

"Is it because of their dreams?" The younger sister pressed.

"I have been patiently made to understand that it is regulatory, natural function, and actually has nothing to do with dreams or who they wake up beside."

"So how... endowed... is the average man supposed to be?"

Aegis laughed. "Well," she drawled. "I'm pretty sure you know better than me by now, as I have studied a grand total of two samples; and it is unfortunately not one of the many questions I asked of the anatomy expert."

Imoen was silent a moment. "Wait a minute. If Xzar was... then who have...?"

The ranger blushed guiltily and grinned, looking at the ceiling. "Well... I may have possibly, sort of encountered a certain elf at a spring... to assess the state of his scarring. Whereupon I was shot twice, but did get a very good look..."

"Kivan!? Oh gods, tell me everything!"

"What!? No!"

"You saw the tall, dark, mysterious elf naked! I demand to know more!"

"He is not interested!"

"I don't care! I'm not interested either! I have a strict 'no dalliances with party members' rule! Tell me, tell me, tell me!"

"Well..."

There were certain things that were okay to talk about if they were shared only with one's sister, after all.

..

Imoen and Aegis talked for hours.

They talked about Candlekeep and the road; about their favorite and least favorite mundane parts of being adventurers, and how the story books always left out crucial information about adventures: like how difficult it was to go organize sleeping arrangements on a tight purse or go to the bathroom in a dungeon. Imoen promised to include these details in any write up she ever did of their own adventures, to enlighten poor misinformed youths across the globe.

It had also explained to her why many famous adventuring stories included horrifying twists or betrayals. Now that she had an on-the-ground perspective, she realized those were probably not recorded true-to-form either. Everyone called to adventuring had some kind of problem it seemed! Sometimes the most inexplicable people would prove loyal, and the most righteous of people could turn problematic! And then of course there were situations like Montaron, which Imoen felt any storybook would write as if one could see it coming from a mile away, but which really had been a lot more abrupt and confusing than that.

"If you are going to write a story about adventurers trying to use the bathroom in dungeons," Aegis drawled. "Then it should be a comedy. Think of how many dangers only other adventurers would understand that would baffle and confuse and delight people across Faerun!"

"Well then I've got to include dragging around the evil feebleminded magus who turns into a fireball catapult when given 'smart' potions!"

Aegis laughed. "I'm sure you could write a fiction about that; about some sort of wizardly troll or newt or something that lives its entire life off intelligence potions." Then the both of them came to the same idea at the same time. "Not a newt!" Aegis exclaimed.

"A chicken!" Imon crowed. "Oh Oghma, I should totally do that! I can't name him Melicamp though." she cackled. "No! Odded the Superchicken!"

"Hahahah! I'm sure half the adventurers and noblemen from here to Neverwinter would be laughing their sides off about cranky old dwarves discussing exactly what sort of bowel movement they wanted to have whilst traversing undead infested caverns, and Odded's valiant attempts to put up with getting sat upon by chipper halflings."

Mention of Kagain sobered them a bit. Imoen saw Aegis had turned introspective, and she pat her sister's shoulder. "Look I'm not sure there was a wholly right or a wholly wrong in that whole situation. Maybe life's too complicated for straight rights and straight wrongs sometimes. Especially when everyone's an adventurer and a mite desensitized to fighting things."

Her sister frowned at her. "I still killed my traveling companion."

"Well," Imoen sighed. "You did the Aegis thing to do, which at least makes you consistent, right? Even Shar-Teel saw that. You defended all the kittens you knew how to defend."

The ranger nodded. "I suppose I just have to aspire to the level of matronly-ness that I can wave a rolling pin in the air and whole armies will cower at the sound of my anger. I... I should have been able to talk him down... to fight him 'till he was beaten and let up... Or to just take the hit and forgive, to... to..."

"You can't be perfect you know? And you can't win all the time. Sometimes you make decisions half and half and you just have to go on with life. Whose to say you should have forgiven Montaron for stabbing you in that very first fight?"

Aegis looked at her and thought about how Jaheira hadn't been much better at that time. "Xzar mentioned 'The Exile.' Anything you'd like to send him?"

Imoen looked at her hands. "No. I've shut that door, and shut it tight," she answered. "He was capable of something I just can't reconcile. In my heart or my head."

Aegis lifted a brow and leaned back against the wall, considering the letter they were writing. "We've still got Edwin and Viconia," she observed. "They're plenty 'capable,' I'm sure you realize. That's not even touching the sort of actions Xan, Kivan, or Ajantis could rationalize. And I don't even know what's with Shar-Teel yet."

"Well you give everyone a chance," Imoen noted. "You ignore what they threaten and focus on what they do. Montaron betrayed us."

Aegis scratched the back of her head. "Aye, I give everyone a chance. I'll be the first to tell you Xzar's admitted to conducting vivisection and engaging in cannibalism, he's repeatedly asked to harvest Jaheira's organs, and yet here we are writing him a ten page dissertation on the topic of how much we miss him." Imoen straightened a little, giving Aegis a disturbed expression. The ranger shrugged.

"How... how are you okay with that?" the thief asked slowly.

"Maybe I'm a visual learner. That might explain why I can tolerate when people say the most horrible things to each other, but go ballistic when someone lifts a weapon." She thought for a moment and then shrugged again. "I don't know, Imoen. But once I cared about him, I tried to figure out if there was any way we could coexist without permanently violating each other's ethics. I can't make Xzar perfect, but there were some really important points he was willing to cede. And vise versa, I think. So... maybe it will work. And maybe not."

"What are you trying to say? To just rationalize away what Montaron did as 'oh, he couldn't help it, he's messed up and has problems but maybe we can compromise and only kill Aegis on Tuesdays?' "

The ranger laughed. "No. Don't forgive him. Don't make allowance. I've known you a long time, and I know you're almost impervious to taunts and insults. Montaron's actions hit you hard; and I would never suggest you go seek out that kind of punishment a second time."

Imoen looked at her feet.

"I'm just wondering if... if maybe there's a way to put a little salve on that wound for you. Get some closure? No, never mind, I don't know what I'm talking about. Forget it. Even my own relationship gets... difficult to figure out sometimes. I think Xzar could kill Jaheira if he were sure I'd never find out. That's a pretty dark pill to swallow, and a lot of pressure on me to be responsible for a crazy, immoral person. That's not something I think many people should ever shoulder."

Imoen thought for a moment. Then she grabbed a piece of paper. Aegis blinked, leaning over to see what she was writing.

..

"I need to go find Edwin," Imoen realized. "How long has it been?"

"A couple hours. Not six, by any means," Aegis noted. "Ehm, about Edwin, sis. I think you are doing the right thing by making sure he's mended. But I don't want you leaving the party, mostly because the roads aren't safe. Kagain mentioned he was getting one in four caravans through to Baldur's Gate. That's really, really bad. I don't want you to risk your life on twenty-five percent odds."

"Well then hopefully I won't need to go to Baldur's Gate," Imoen thought optimistically. "I'm sure we can figure out something."

"He seems fond of you," Aegis broached carefully.

Imoen blinked up at her sister and smiled. "Edwin? Well, he is my friend."

Aegis looked off to the side and rubbed the back of her neck. "Well. You're his friend. I'm not sure it goes both ways. Being fond of you isn't the same as being on your side when it counts. Edwin's universe seems really self-centric."

Imoen raised a brow. "I doubt he'd hurt me," she decided after a moment.

Aegis looked back at her. "Physically? I'll believe that; he's got no motive, and you amuse him. But he's going to leave the party and go after Dynaheir. That's... big."

"I can't not help him," Imoen protested. "Dyn would know that, and I just hope she's fine."

"If you gave up on him, I still wouldn't leave him for the crows," Aegis laughed. "He did his job, held to the letter if not necessarily the spirit of his vow, and he's desperate not to be abandoned. Dyn fled. I'm not sure what happened magically, or how I feel about it, but at this point with Kagain dead I'll just take care of the kitten I still have."

"Well, at least that." The pink girl settled down a bit. "What's eating you about him then?"

"He sits there listening to what you're willing to sacrifice to help him, and he offers nothing in exchange. Xan proposed contacting Dynaheir and he stomped off in a huff. To Edwin, you're like... like a haggle he's already won."

Imoen blew hair out of his face and huffed. "He pays attention to other people as a means to an end," the pink girl lamented. "He can be nice when it's convenient for him. But I think I always knew he'd let me down. I still picked to be his friend. I still picked to let him teach me." Her face drew together with sorrow.

Aegis looked down quietly. Hearing Imoen talk fatalistically felt weird, and the ranger wondered if she was giving her sister the right advice. "I don't think Edwin can make gestures of self-sacrifice, because I don't think they ever even occur to him. In his world, he's always right. He plays risky and high-stakes, but he still always plays to win."

"... I won't forgive him, either," Imoen told her quietly. "Once he leaves, that's it. I know better."

Aegis sighed. "Well. That's gonna sting, no matter how ready you are for it. But as long as you know... guess there's nothing more to say. Maybe you should try a less difficult friendship challenge next time?"

Imoen laughed. "What challenge? Everyone easy already is my friend. I guess now there's Shar-Teel. How do you think one befriends Shar-Teel?"

"Hate men," Aegis answered unhesitatingly.

"I suck at hating people," Imoen pouted. "There must be another way! Well. I've a Thayvian to talk to. Idiot that he is. You finish up that letter and then I'll meet you with him so we can have another talk with Kelddath and head into Beregost."

Aegis grunted and Imoen turned to walk away. When she noticed Imoen's posture, which was strangely slumped and leaden, the older girl bit her lip. Just before Imoen would have been too far away to call back, the ranger stepped forward. "Hey, Imm! Wait."

The thief turned about. "Yeah?"

"Look, about Edwin," Aegis hazarded, not sure if she wanted to go back down this road after such a stable conclusion had been reached. "I wasn't going to say anything but... Everyone else seems to ignore you two have an actual synergy going."

"What?" Imoen blinked.

"Xan and the others act like you're a textbook damsel; but I've watched and you and Edwin fight, trade control, and work together like near equals. Which I'm assuming is odd for him. You're clearly no victim."

The younger girl blinked, placing her hands on her hips. "Where are you going with this?" she asked curiously.

"I just... I saw for a moment how frightened he was when he was lobbing fireballs at wraiths. And it occurred to me that maybe he trusts you. And that you shared magic specifically and only with him. The others are ignoring you two have some kind of bond."

Imoen dropped her hands, shifting her feet as she steadied her weight. "Are you... are you actually supporting my friendship with the vain, womanizing, spoiled, evil wizard assassin?"

Aegis was quiet for a moment. Then the corner of her mouth quirked slightly. "Well, you've always had queer taste in friends. Like that girl who used to talk to dead things, I mean, what the heck was up with her?"

Imoen snorted. Then she giggled. "Yeah, you were really weird. But then you weren't ever going to kill anyone."

"You'd be surprised." Aegis crossed her arms uncertainly behind her back. "Everyone's trying to protect you from being taken advantage of. But you've always been that cheeky brat who'd befriend the most unsociable of people and bring out the best in them. It's... part of you. They don't know that. And if it's what you want, then I support your decision not to change. Even when you 'lose.'"

The thief considered this, looking at the ground.

"I... I know you're still reeling. But something tells me we were smothering you with the advice we thought you needed, when all you really wanted to know was how to stay true to yourself after a hardship. But you know, you do impact people. You steal their hearts just as easily as their belongings."

"D'aww!" Imoen gushed, looking up at her. "Did you just come up with that? That was so cutely phrased!"

Aegis grinned. "Look, from my position, the Red Wizard's a lost cause. But he's your friend. Don't stand passively back and wait for him to leave, just because everyone else would do worse. Make it as hard for him to do the wrong thing as you can."

"Noted," Imoen nodded. Then she stood in a deep breath and hopped all the way back to her sister and hug-tackled her. "I wuv you, big sister. Wuv wuv wuv wuv wuv."

"I just want you to be you. And happy," Aegis told her, squeezing her tightly. "I assume the first is the only route to the second."

..

Gorion glared down at both squirrels. "This is what you get for having a war involving spell-breaches, weakness spells, and lowered resistances with a baby in the room."

Khelben-Squirrel looked to Elminster-Squirrel. The latter was slowly losing his ability to contain his sentiments. A moment later, Elminster-Squirrel fell backwards, laughing hysterically in high-pitched chitters at their predicament. Here they were, two Chosens of Mystra, the world's most powerful archmagi, and they had been permanently transfigured by one enraged father once they'd expended all their best contingencies, spell-like abilities, sequencers, magic items, and so forth.

Esmerae had been Imprisoned by Khelben, as per the spell, and in that manner had retained at least some of her dignity.

Khelben-Squirrel put his paws together and begged pleadingly. They had been on the same side! He'd have never hit the baby or let her be hit!

Gorion scowled, bouncing Aegis tenderly for a moment. Then a devious scowl came over his face. He reached over and picked up Elminster-Squirrel by the tail. He carried the surprised creature over to Aegis' baby basket, nestled the little girl within, and then handed her the squirrel.

Aegis gave an expression of awe, smiling at the tiny mobile creature. Then she grabbed him with one hand and tugged him close to gum on his tail. "You wanted to see her!" the aasimar cooed with a terribly evil grin as the squirrel writhed and flailed helplessly. At least he was unwilling to bite a baby in the face; Perhaps Gorion would forgive him after all.

Khelben-Squirrel bounded up to him and quickly climbed up his robes to investigate. He reached his shoulder, craned over to see, and then did a facepalm. Gorion grinned, picked up the squirrel, and then dispelled the polymorph. Khelben reappeared beside him, still face-palming. "You have developed a very interesting sense of justice, Gorion," the lord of the tower told him.

"Yes. Well. I'll turn him back in a few minutes. The chance to humiliate you both was too great not to take; but then I live here by your good graces and so I felt perhaps I shouldn't give her your tail to nom on. He's no such excuse."

Aegis hugged the helpless squirrel to herself and yawned sleepily. "Abwu," she babbled, holding the squirrel close.

Elminster-Squirrel looked up at them pathetically and sighed. This was the most bizarre thing that had ever happened to him; and Elminster Aumar had had a great many bizarre things happen to him in his long life.

Wuv! Twue Wuv! The most powerful force in the universe!