Consequences II

A/N: I suddenly got a lot more free time on my hands, no thanks to the current situation. So for now - two updates a week. Reviews welcome!

The desert was an arid, unwelcoming place. Nothing but sand for miles and miles… Rejecting both guests and inhabitants, set in it's way of depriving all life the most basic of comfort, most elemental keys to survival, miserable and wretched. It hated water, moisture, those simplest drops that could bring fourth the flourishing green, seed it, color it. It was emptiness, it was thirst, it was misery of deficit.

But even it wasn't as dry as Daria's tongue this morning.

"Water..." she whispered. Someone left a cup on her nightstand. It was empty – it must have been Imoen. The elf slept clothed and woke up sweated and dirty, but didn't care enough to change clothes or bathe. Water was the priority. She carried the pounding headache along with her head to the main room of the oasis inn. Some of her party was already present, strewn around here and there, equally parched. The inn owner placed a jug of water and a mug before her, as Daria sat by an empty table, incapable of simplest 'thank you'.

Sarevok was nowhere to be seen. Instead a cloaked and masked figure approached her table for one. Already sick even without another assassination attempt, she divined who it was. Her mood marginally improved.

"Don't do that. I will vomit on you" she warned.

Hooded Sarevok didn't grab her like he was going to. It must have been horrible in this heat, in this cloak. He even wore gloves not to show even the smallest piece of skin. And why? He looked good, so pink.

"How long is it going to last?!" he barked way too loudly. Daria groaned.

"I dunno… Don't shout."

"How long?!"

"We were casting drunk, I don't know, alright? It'll fade away eventually, so just go away."

He didn't. Instead he sat down and leaned in, breathing heavily, his eyes burning furiously under the hood.

"You planned this, like you planned humiliating me during the battle. And you knew I wouldn't leave! What the hell are you trying to accomplish?!" Sarevok didn't plan on leveling is voice any time soon.

"Like I could stop you from throwing yourself in the biggest crowd of giants" Daria rolled her eyes. She poured herself another mug of water. "I'm not your mother, Sarevok, I'm not going to go out of my way to teach you a lesson. All I bothered to do, was making sure you survived – adding those regenerative spells were the only thing I changed about your future from the first battle I saw. Stop being so paranoid."

"I'm paranoid?! I found a dryad grove in the middle of the desert, with bushes of berries! Are you saying that it was an accident?! I just walked into something like that?! What is your plan?!"

"What? I just saw you coming back with the berries. I didn't know what you'd find."

"So what, you want me to believe you don't want anything from me? No vengeance? Or some idiotic plot to teach me to be good?!"

"Why are you here, Sarevok? I have enough on my plate without your problems. So..." Daria took a deep breath. She tried to calm the raging headache. "I don't plan on doing anything to you. If I see you in danger, if you make trouble – I will interfere, you are a member of my party. But other than that..." she shrugged. He chewed on in for a moment, pondering how to extract more information. He didn't believe a word of what she said, that much was certain.

"Did it take as much to defeat me, when we fought under Baldur's Gate?" Now he was just looking to stroke his ego.

"No, I just winged it." And Daria wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of admitting how terrified she was of facing him in battle.

He glared.

"I couldn't do half of what I can now, when I fought you. I mostly relied on fleeting glimpses and 'feelings'. There's no way I would try that again with anyone. I was lucky then… and had great friends to help me. While you..."

"I did everything possible to become more powerful" he cut sharply.

"Right. And now?"

He kept glaring.

"I'm not promising I'll help. I'm just saying, if you wait too long with asking, I may no longer be available."

He didn't answer, standing up and kicking off the chair, making as much noise as possible. The bastard.

A new vision made her groan even harder. She looked up to the doorway leading to the room where men slept, and sure enough, a bucket filled with water was stuck above it, with a magic spell set to dump it on a selected victim. Imoen was up, practicing triggers, a first step to a contingency spell. Daria somehow wasn't satisfied.

A quick dispel took care of the trigger. She looked around to find someone with less heavy head, to grab the bucket.

Solaufein sat alone in the darkest corner of the inn. Conscience bit Daria immediately. She left the bucket for now. Hopefully it wouldn't tip on it's own.

"Hey, how are you?" They haven't spoke to each other more than few words for over a week. And now she took him – a drow – to one of the brightest and hottest places possible. If he didn't honestly hate her, he'd have to be a saint.

"I'm fine. How about you?" Solaufein smiled from over a book. He didn't look as hangover as he should be after yesterday. Perhaps he was used to more decadence in Ust Natha, or trained to withstand the poisonous Fairies.

"Good. What are you reading?" she took a look at the tome he was holding.

"Minsc gave me this. It's a herb compendium. I have to admit, at first I thought you were joking when you told me he's the pillar of your team. But he really does have… a calming presence. He told me a lot about the surface and the plants you have here. There's so much you can just grab and eat… Like berries. But not all of them. Or apples. I think I'd like to try those. And he gave me his only book – he said he only kept it for the drawings and I have to admit, they are very well done." The dark elf showed a meticulous copy of an oak and birch tree leaves.

"You can also talk to Jaheira" Daria advised. "I think she'd be happy to talk about nature with someone enthusiastic, for a change."

"You know… There aren't any druids in the Underdark… At least I never heard of any among the drow in Ust Natha. At first I wasn't sure what a druid was… What was the source of this power. But to think that this greenery… All this life in the forest, in the lakes, in the fields… is a part of something greater… It's inspiring. Even If I still can't fully wrap my head around it."

"I'm glad you like it." Daria smiled, relieved.

"You told me I would. And you were right. I think I may yet love it here, on the surface. Even despite the light. That's why… Thank you Daria, for that piece of your spirit. I did nothing to deserve it, but I will do my best not to let my second life go to waste."

A soft giggle turned Daria's attention back to men's room. Sure enough, Xan appeared in it and Imoen covered her mouth and watched as… the elf walked into the room, unhindered.

"Water..." he begged at the counter. He also was given a jug, more were waiting for all the party members. What a hospitable place they've stumbled onto.

Imoen walked up to her bucket and pulled it down, standing on her tip toes. Water was still there. But not the trigger spell. Her eyes instantly darted to her sister.

"You're cheating!" she pointed an accusatory finger. Daria sighed. Why were people screaming at her all the time?

"No, I'm not" she answered.

"You used a divination to find my bucket! I told you to stop!" Imoen kept screaming.

Daria just shrugged. She was beyond caring.

"You want a prank war? 'Cause that's how you get a prank war!"

"Imoen." Daria stopped her, before her sister got out of control. "Don't you know, you shouldn't start something, if you can't finish it?"

Imoen leered at her.

"It's on." With that she turned around and went back to the room they rented. Daria mentally warned Gooseberry.

"Are you certain it's a good idea?" Solaufein couldn't help but ask. He remembered the last time a paper frog flew into his face after opening a spell book. Pranks weren't pleasant when mixed with life on a permanent watch for assassins.

"I don't want her to hate me. And I want her to forgive me for what I've done, so… I don't know."

"I meant goading her like that."

"I know. Pranks are a good way to talk with Imoen. But you shouldn't try it!" the sun elf quickly warned. "At least not unprepared."

The entire collage of futures Daria kept seeing changed, now that Imoen was in them. And it was a good change. The ones where the diviner run away and hid in the woods disappeared completely. Even if she had a bad day and decided to make a run for it, she'd change her mind quickly and return before anyone noticed. There was her sister, counting on her now, always. There was no way Daria could abandon her. She needed to protect her. She needed to protect all of them.

There was one person she should have talked to a long time ago. Though maybe the precise moment wasn't ideal. Daria approached Xan, the enchanter gray and parched like a starved vampire.

"Hello. Do you mind some company?" The old melancholy whispered to her it's usual melodies when she looked at the moon elf, even more miserable than normally.

"Ah. No, I just thought about you. I mean, I was thinking about a solution to aftereffects of your divinations!" For a brief moment the elf seemed to consider pouring the contents of his mug on his head to wake up properly. He shook his head and drew a small leather notebook from a pocket. "Do you mind a few questions?"

"Go ahead." This wasn't what she wanted to talk about, but that didn't seem like a place or the time. Perhaps later, more privately.

"So, Imoen said you get stuck. Is it a time stop, paralysis or…?" He asked.

"No, I don't think the world or the Weave is affected. Just my perception sharpens to the point when every second lasts that much longer. I can move. Just in the normal way, so incredibly slowly. A blink lasts an equivalent of a quarter… maybe half an hour."

"Have you tried shorter divining sessions? Does that have any bearing on the time spent slowed? Or the rate by which it is slower?"

"I always get stuck now, even if I remove myself for a short moment. It's more or less the same, only once it got… Once it was worse. The more breaks I take, the more often I'm stuck. And I can't tell how long exactly it lasts. It's… always too long."

Xan didn't answer, his eyes dark with worry. She wanted to make him feel better. Maybe if she looked, before she leaped…

"Like I wasted my life and all chances to improve anything, be it the fate of Evereska or my own. I feel hopeless and defeated." With a sigh, Xan would answer her, if she simply asked 'How do you feel?'

"The situation may not look that great now, but we did do a lot of good. You didn't waste your life, Xan. Surely… looking back on it, good memories will be there too" she in turn would try to convince him of something she wasn't exactly sure of herself.

"Good memories?" the moon elf would smile, but there wouldn't be a trace of joy in this smile. "These are the worst poison, a soft spot that can be stabbed over and over… I'd rather not have them at all, if it meant stopping what came after. Hope… is the worst poison of all." Needless to say, Daria failed at making Xan feel better. He made her feel worse.

The squelchy explosion that came right after, from the direction of women's room, wasn't the greatest point to make about the joy of life. Daria shook off the vision.

"I'm sorry, I have to go!" She excused herself, stood up too quickly. Her stomach did a spin, but she braved it. Then she ran to disarm a paint-bomb.


The entire day was a complete waste. All the paint bombs were found. A fake love letter from Xan to one of the inn-owners was confiscated before it reached it's target. Even a stupid 'kick me' sign was taken off after just a second!

But that wasn't the worst part. Oh no. The worst was the smugness.

"Please, Imoen. That was too… predictable." Daria commented, handing her the sad remains of a bomb. Even glittering her pet rat backfired as her sister just thanked her for it! And that glitter was used from her private supplies! There was no way of getting more anytime soon!

To make matters completely hopeless, if she focused, Imoen could see what Daria saw – each and every vision that revealed all her plans. The thief used to think she was nosy. No, Daria was the queen of nosiness. She packed her nose into jokes Imoen hadn't even thought of yet. They could have been great. Like stealing Sarevok's undergarments and planting them in Jaheira's bag. The mayhem it would cause… It would be glorious. But now she couldn't do that. Because Daria would step in and destroy any trace of joy the joke would bring.

Desperate measures needed to be taken.

But how? Imoen started to plot. It would take all her intelligence, all her creativity… but she needed to find a way.

'I could pour horse dung into her shoes' Imoen though the most basic plan and immediately was welcomed by a vision of Daria finding dung in her shoes. Then she saw her sister tracing back the vision to the moment, when the dung was collected. Now Imoen would be found before she could plant it. 'I could let all the horses from the stable scatter in the oasis' she upped the scale and chaos. As she prepared the knives and lockpicks for the job again – Daria got a vision. Forewarned. 'I could pretend to fall off a cliff and land on a magical cushion.' Something nasty. A vision was almost instant.

Daria would see her in the light of a setting sun, on the top of a dune, just a black silhouette. Imoen would fake tripping in the sand, falling head first, behind the crest of the dune, disappearing from view. The thief felt the sharp stab of fear in her gut as Daria raced to the edge, screaming for help, tripping herself, falling after in the sand, but landing awkwardly. This fear and this pain – this was why the vision came so fast. Imoen saw herself, a blonde dolt laughing and then stopping, seeing her sister's forearm bent at an angle forearms shouldn't bend at.

Daria would just smile and not say anything. Because it would hurt, Imoen felt diviner's whole arm hurting like hell.

But her sister wouldn't utter a word of anger, no word of hurt.

Gods bloody damn you, Daria.

There was one last thing the thief could do. A prank that her sister would never find out was a prank, so couldn't put her nosy nose in it before it was ready. It defeated the purpose and in no way would let her win in this war… Last resort, desperate measure. But Daria bloody deserved it.

"So, I heard you saying you're looking for a way to fix my sister's little divining problem" she approached Xan in the main room of the inn. There was supposed to be a strategy meeting tonight, but because Minsc was still hangover, Sarevok refused to show his face and there was a secret prank war raging, it was moved to tomorrow morning. Miraculously no new guests appeared in the desert inn, so they more or less occupied the main room as a study. Xan, Daria and Solaufein all hit the books, reading up as much as they could on dragons and geases, chosen topics for the day. Imoen had a homework of her own, but took a break for now, seeing her sister disappear outside to catch some air.

Xan blinked and looked at her. With pride Imoen noticed he immediately pulled all his notes closer to protect them should need arise.

"Don't worry, I hope you know, I'm above messing with my sister's health. Jokes aside, if I can help, just tell me. I do have a direct line to her mind. And her secrets. Even those she would never say to anyone."

"Thank you for the offer. I'll… take it under consideration." Xan shifted his gaze to a stain on his robes, suddenly very absorbing.

"Well?" she whispered. "You've been staring at the back of her head for the last five minutes. Don't tell me, you aren't you at least a bit curious what's inside?"

The enchanter didn't take the bait, managing to pull off the look of a dairy farmer, milking his twelfth cow for the day. But Imoen needed no encouragement. She didn't pull the punch.

"Because she sill loves you, unfortunately for her. And thinks about you. Like, way too often. I didn't expect... Well, that's why it didn't work with her and Solaufein. But she's convinced she's not good enough for you. And she may die any day now so nothing is worth starting anymore. So there you go."

"...tell me Imoen. Do you think you're being cruel or kind right now?"

"Sheesh, I don't know, Xan. What do you think you deserve?" She left him with that.

The seed was sown.