Chapter 44: Take Your Time

When Jaheira awoke, she wasn't instantly aware of where she was. She remembered veritably falling into bed at the Five Flagons, still so weak from the curse that Harrian had had to help her most of the way, and then nothing but a deep, blissful, dreamless sleep.

She took a few moments to realise that she was still in her room in the Five Flagons. Light was filtering through the shuttered windows so brightly that it was clear it was broad daylight. She must not have been asleep very long.

A quick glance around seemed to indicate otherwise. Sprawled in a chair next to the bed was Harrian, head lolled forwards and clearly sleeping. He held her hand in his, and looked as if he had been there for a while, very much the worse for wear.

Jaheira herself felt considerably better after all of this rest. Her head was clear, and there was no longer the dull ache within her that Ployer's 'gift' had left. It seemed very much as if the curse had been lifted.

She shifted in her bed a little, trying to get more comfortable. The movement, slight as it was, woke Harrian, who had clearly been trying to sleep with one ear open and thus was more than slightly attuned to her actions.

He jerked upright, still with a firm grip on her hand, and looked more than slightly stunned to see her awake and grinning at him. "Hmm? What?" Corias blinked and shook his head to clear it. "You're awake," he observed astutely.

"I am. Well done for noticing," Jaheira replied dryly, glancing at the window. "It seems as if I was not asleep for very long… it is still daylight, and quite bright too.," she commented, frowning a little.

Harrian looked surprised. "You've been asleep just short of twenty-four hours," he told her, blinking again, then he grinned. "Very solid rest, even by my standards." The thief leant forwards slightly, still holding her hand. "Are you feeling better?" he asked quietly, his brow creased with concern for her.

She nodded. "I feel… fully healed. The curse has been lifted, I believe… and Ployer is not around to present a threat to anyone anymore." The last comment was something of a slightly harsh test. She knew Harrian had killed Ployer, and personally agreed that the slaver deserved to die… but her friend was not one to kill in cold blood. A part of her feared that the Bhaal-blood within him had taken over, if only for a moment.

She was a little gratified to see that he looked, if not remorseful, sheepish at her acknowledgement of his actions. "He… he was an evil man," Harrian murmured. "Perhaps I should have shown him mercy, but he deserved to die. Had he lived, he would have still presented a threat to you…"

"If you had not killed him, I would have," she repeated, tightening her grip on his hand slightly, and was rewarded by a small but genuine smile on his part. "You have been here all the time?" she asked tentatively.

Harrian nodded firmly. "I… I wasn't sure you were going to be alright. Anomen was ready to tend to you if you did not recover normally, but in case…" He smiled nervously, then glanced at the floor before he met her gaze. "I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"I am thankful for your concern," she murmured, looking at him curiously. His eyes, usually darker than was natural, seemed even blacker than normal as he stared at her, his brow still slightly furrowed. He raised a hand to brush a stray lock of hair from her face, and was about to speak when the door to her room was flung open.

In charged, once again, a very flustered Anomen, this time looking as if he had had the shock of his life. "You had better come down to the tavern," he panted. "Corneil is here… they want the scroll… Your friend is also…"

I'm going to kill that cleric, Harrian thought first of all before the squire's words had fully sunk in. Then the implications of what Anomen had said did hit him, and he sprang to his feet. "Corneil's here? With Imoen?"

Delryn nodded, starting to recover somewhat. "She is here," he assured the party's leader. "But she's contained in some magical field… and won't be released until the Cowled Wizard has the scroll."

Harrian fumbled about in his inside pocket and pulled the Nether scroll out, smiling. "At bloody last," he sighed, then turned to look at Jaheira. "Will you be alright? I can get Anomen to make the exchange if you…"

The druid gave him a mildly scathing look. "I am capable of standing, you know," she assured him. "I will join you. The Cowled Wizards cannot be trusted and you may need an extra pair of hands. Just let me get ready." Harrian smiled, nodded, but did not move until Jaheira gave him another pointed glare, and he and Anomen sheepishly withdrew from the room.

* *

If I really wanted to, I could probably Breach this, Imoen told herself confidently as her eyes curiously roamed the tavern of the Five Flagons, even through the milky-white sheen of the magical barrier that had been placed around her.

Thunderburp was less than happy about the whole arrangement. The damn thief and his friends had caused far too many scenes in the inn, and he was getting quite sick of it, good-natured halfling though he was. Any more extreme incidents such as this one, and they were out on their backsides.

Corneil paced irritably as he waited for the arrival of Corias and the scroll, completely ignoring Yoshimo, who had an arrow notched on his bow and was following him with it as he moved. He didn't have time for this. He didn't care about the girl; he'd be all too happy to get rid of her provided he had the scroll. He had no desires to double-cross the thief, though he could see how Corias wanted to be cautious.

Haer'Dalis was studying Imoen with barely controlled interest. From everything he had heard, and even from seeing her right now, she had been described as a bright, cheerful, happy-go-lucky girl. This wasn't what interested him. What interested him was the innate darkness within her that everyone else seemed completely blind to but was as clear to the tiefling as the day's sky. As a Doomguard and a bard, such a corruption of a pure soul was fascinating, in a rather, he admitted, perverse way.

Yoshimo, however, was fit to panic. This was not how things were supposed to have gone. To be fair, he didn't want things to go according to the plan, but he had come to accept that they would. With Imoen here, Harrian had far less incentive to go in search of Irenicus, and if he didn't go in search of Irenicus, Yoshimo would have to either make him go or bring him to the mage. Failure to do so would mean a long and painful death.

Then there was Minsc. He held the Sword of Chaos in a solid grip, eyeing the mages that accompanied Corneil with the utmost distrust. They had placed little Imoen in this magical container, and whilst he wasn't sure how it worked, Boo assured him that he could not hack his way through. This bothered him. But he was still ready to go in with blade and boot if any of the Cowled Wizards endangered Imoen.

And, finally, just as none of them thought they could take it anymore, Anomen stepped down the stairs, followed closely by a rather ruffled-looking Jaheira. And directly behind them, scroll in one hand and lit candle in the other, came Harrian, also looking very much the worse for wear, but his eyes were sparkling with anticipation. He gave Imoen a brief, cheerful look, before starting towards Corneil. "Any false moves and this scroll will be reduced to so much ash on the floor," he warned Corneil threateningly.

The Cowled Wizard smiled toothily and falsely. "I assure you, if that happens to the scroll, it will then happen to the girl," he cautioned. "But if you give me the scroll, I shall release her. I assure you, I am not about to whisk her away again – it was so much of an effort to bring her here that I'd be inclined to just let her loose in the streets of Athkatla were this exchange to not take place."

Harrian set the candle down and drew his sword. "Very well," he said, his heart beating so loudly he was amazed that the others didn't seem to hear it. He slowly extended the hand that held the Nether scroll towards Corneil. "Take it and release her."

The Cowled Wizard snatched the scroll from his hand, and seriously considered for a moment killing them all on the spot. But no… if he had intended to do that, he would have brought more colleagues along. And it would be quite a waste of resources. At the end of the day, he cared not one jot for Corias or his comrades.

He shrugged. "Very well," Corneil said absently, then muttered a few words under his breath. There was a bright flash of a type of magic Harrian had never before witnessed, but when it had faded, all of the Cowled Wizards are gone, and Imoen stood, unrestricted, in the middle of the tavern.

The pink-haired thief gave him a mischievous smile, and there was only the slight weariness in her eyes that told him her time in Spellhold had been none-too pleasant. "Well," she declared cheerfully. "You took your time getting me out of there. What did you do, stop for a holiday along the way?"