Chapter 7: Rest, Relaxation, Reflection

The Sea's Bounty, Jaheira reflected, was a far less… seedy establishment than the Crooked Crane. Whilst the Docks were frequented by all manner of low-life scum such as pirates and Shadow Thieves, these scum also brought a considerable amount of money to the tavern, so it was far more pleasant than most other inns of Athkatla.

She was still simmering from the briefing with Gorion, though it did her well to not let anyone know. Belgrade, the eloquent bastard that he was, had been quite capable of cutting down her fury when he'd caught up with her outside the room. He was, as always, quick with a word to calm her worries and make her laugh. That was one of the reasons she… was… fond of him.

And she wouldn't dwell on irrational fear. For this was irrational – Belgrade and Darial were old friends, in Silvanus' name! They were both seasoned Harpers and thus better suited for the role Gorion had given them. The fact that annoying, irrational, ridiculous jealousy tugged at her was something she would just have to live with.

It didn't mean she'd be happy whilst living with it. No, something in Jaheira's gut told her that something was up, and whether it was natural possessive instinct kicking in or a real worry, she couldn't tell.

Right then, the four of them were gathered around a small table in the tavern. They had been there about three hours now, and so the other three were well on the way to becoming inebriated. Even the nervous Khalid had loosened up after a few drinks, and was slurring rather than stuttering by now.

Jaheira watched them, amused, from her position next to Belgrade. The rogue had placed an arm a little too casually – and heavily, for he had helped himself to a considerable amount of mead – around her shoulder, a public gesture she usually wouldn't stand for. At the back of her mind, however, she knew that the fact it openly displayed their relationship in front of Darial was doubtless the only reason she supported it.

Stop it, in Silvanus' name! You're supposed to be calm, rational, in control. They're professionals; just because they're going to be playing at being a couple – and hardly particularly openly, because they'll be a couple on a business venture – doesn't mean he's going to run off with her or anything.

The druid resisted the urge to grimace. There were times she hated her emotions, and now she had to keep them under wraps; because they were stupid. Very stupid. And she had to remain perfectly calm, lest she became mistaken for a silly, irrational girl.

Fortunately, the display in front of her made it easier to appear relaxed. Khalid was remaining coherent and upright only by the strength of the arm he was resting his chin on, and as Darial attempted to drag him into a drinking ditty, he kept slumping onto the table until she poked him back into consciousness.

"Pay attention!" the bard declared mock-sharply, rapping the warrior on the head with a metal spoon. Her erratic gestures and slurred speech made her level of inebriation quite evident. "We haven't even got past the first verse yet. Now…" Darial straightened up in a pose that was supposed to be serious before lurching into song, disastrously off-key.

"You might like spirits, and you might like wine,
Whiskey, mead, brandy or ale,
But there is one drink that is so fine,
That leaves you hearty and leaves you hale

I talk, of course, of that nectar of gods,
That drink so valued and dear,
Which you out of depression it prods,
And goes by the fine name of beer… Hey!"

The 'hey' was directed at Khalid as the half-elven warrior slumped back onto the table with a snore, this time firmly asleep. Another rap on the head from the spoon was ignored, and Khalid continued to sleep.

Darial shook her head, grinning a little moronically. "How much did he have to drink?" she asked, then giggled in a way that sent Jaheira's nerves off. "Poor fellow can't take his booze… can't sing either."

Belgrade, revealing himself to be a little more sober than the druid had thought, shook his head. "You have also consumed quite enough, Darial," he assured her, leaning forwards and sliding the tankard away from the weakly protesting bard. "Mayhaps we should get you to your room?"

It would attract too much attention for the party to stay at the Harper Headquarters, and could potentially endanger its secrecy, so the Herald was funding their temporary rooms at the Sea's Bounty. In a day's time, they would most likely be slumbering in the Copper Coronet.

Darial shook her head erratically, leaning back in the chair and crossing her arms over her chest in a most childish way. "No. Nope. 'm fine here," she insisted, grinning emphatically.

Jaheira sighed, shaking her head. The bard had suddenly started to give her a headache. "Perhaps we should leave her here," she groaned, rubbing her temples. "I'm sure someone will drag her to her room."

Belgrade grinned, removing his arm from around her shoulder. "Not necessary, my love. I have a method of getting Darial into bed that has never failed before." Looking at the bard, he missed the druid's dubious and suspicious expression. "I shall wager that you are unable to stand, Darial," he said to the party's leader firmly.

The bard looked indignantly back. "What're you talking 'bout, Belgrade? You know I can stand. Easy!" The human stood slowly yet firmly, and although she swayed a little, she was upright and balanced.

The rogue's smile broadened, and his eyes lit up a little. "Ah, but are you capable of making your way back to your room in this inn?" he asked, though he kept his voice light and knowing.

The bard's indignant expression spread. "'course I can!" she declared. "You know me… always make it home…" She gave Belgrade's falsely dubious look intense scrutiny. "Want me to prove it?"

As Darial strode off unsteadily, hopefully to end up in her room and to then stay there, Jaheira gave Belgrade a brief, mildly impressed look, ignoring Khalid as he remained with his head in a slowly-expanding puddle of mead on the table. "You never cease to amaze me."

 The rogue gave her a devilish grin. "I try my best." He winked as he slid an arm around her shoulder, and was gratified when she didn't resist. He wasn't quite as drunk as she evidently thought he was – mead didn't go to his head quite like spirits did, and the Sea's Bounty could rival the Crooked Crane in watering down. Though, from the states of Darial and Khalid, he would guess that ale was not given the same treatment. "This is preferable to carrying her to her room once she has passed out."

"Hmm." Jaheira glanced across the table and nodded in the direction of Khalid's slumbering form. "You may need to carry him up there later," she pointed out, resting her head on Belgrade's shoulder, a warm feeling inside dispelling some of the worry in the pit of her stomach.

Belgrade chuckled dryly. "I had not anticipated that one such as him would be able to consume so much alcohol when faces with a drinker like Darial," he mused, shaking his head thoughtfully. "I suppose he has proven himself on one spot of turf, at least."

The druid looked at him briefly. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked lightly.

He shrugged. "I am sure that he has been assigned to this group for a reason, yet I am unable to find one. I'm not judging yet… it's too early to judge… just I am simply waiting for him to show us where his skills lie."

Jaheira considered this for a moment, frowning a little. "It seems as if you are already judging," she muttered. Why was she being so sharp with him? It had to have something to do with irrational worries lashing out, or the like…

He raised a hand defensively. "No, I… am expressing myself badly." Belgrade grimaced, then sighed. "Let us wait and see. The Harpers will have assigned him for a reason. The fact that he managed to survive a drinking competition with Darial proves he has hidden talents."

Jaheira chuckled dryly, the need to leap on his every point passing. Then she sobered slowly as the words sank in a little. "You seem to know Darial quite well," she commented quietly.

Belgrade shrugged again. "We have long been friends," he explained lightly. There was a brief silence as he looked at her. "Never anything beyond," the rogue continued in an assuring manner. Noticing her mildly unconvinced expression, he turned and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "I promise."

Even as she shifted to return the embrace, which would be little more than a prelude to going to bed, Jaheira still managed to notice Khalid briefly popping an eye open, watching them discreetly, before returning to what seemed to be a drunken slumber.