Chapter 48: Around the Bend

By late afternoon of that day, insanity seemed to have worn off for everyone. Anomen had regressed to the state of sitting alone in his room, and had been left to his own devices by the rest of the party, too tentative to face his wrath as they were. Yoshimo had done his disappearing trick again, this time to see if he could get any more solid information out of Tellis.

Harrian had planned to see if he and Imoen could fare better against Haer'Dalis and Minsc than they had against Yoshimo and Jaheira at darts, but he was obviously far too preoccupied with the aforementioned missing druid to focus enough on the game. Eventually he surrendered and satisfied himself by lurking in a corner of the room, a pint of Thunderburp's ale to keep him company as he waited for her.

Haer'Dalis had been offered the chance to settle an 'artistic dispute' amongst the new owners and managers of the Five Flagons playhouse, and had thus retired downstairs to give them a hand. Minsc went off on one of his mysterious shopping trips to tend to Boo's apparently quite particular needs.

This left Imoen to either conduct a one-sided conversation with an overly-concerned Harrian, or tend to other matters. After being detained by the Cowled Wizards, she was understandably tentative to resume some of her arcane studies, but Corias's assurances of the magical license they had acquired her set most of her worries at rest, but she felt unhappy about using magic for non-essential purposes at that moment.

The girl sighed as she gave Harrian a brief, forlorn look and left the table, starting towards the stairs leading up to the rooms. She had something of a desire to make herself useful, to show that she had not been rescued for naught, and it seemed as if there was only thing right then that could make her useful.

* *

Anomen was most surprised when he opened the door to see Imoen standing there. He didn't know who he had expected to have drawn the short straw for the job of cheering him up, but for some reason he anticipated that the mage would have been exempt from that duty, considering what she had already been through.

"My lady," he stammered, taken aback and suddenly realising how much of a mess he looked. He was still in the soft light clothing he wore underneath his armour – which was lying in the corner of his room, in far more of a state than he had ever let it become – and knew he was hardly presentable to a lady.

Imoen raised an eyebrow at him, and shook her head. "None of that 'my lady' stuff," she chided him, shaking a finger at the cleric. "I'm just plain old Imoen. You don't need to go all courteous on me." But at the same time, a part of her brain was intrigued. Ooh, he called you 'lady'. That's a new one. Usually, at best, it's 'hey you'…

Beyond a desire to try and find her place in this group Harrian had put together, she wasn't too sure why she was here. Imoen found Anomen quite arrogant and overbearing, from the few conversations they'd had over the past day or so. He reminded her slightly of Ajantis, and she couldn't stand him either.

Still, there was something about him. She didn't know if it was just his grief, but there was, lying underneath the surface, a quite sensitive guy. Imoen suspected that his arrogance was either a front to deceive people, or a barrier to protect herself; both methods she had seen used quite effectively.

But the slightly silly smile he returned her grins with, and the way he shifted about when he was embarrassed… When he was letting his guard down, he didn't remind her of Ajantis in the least, which she counted a good thing. He did seem like a decent guy, and nobody deserved to have to mope all day long.

"Of course, my la… Imoen," he stammered, stepping back into his room with a small shake of the head. Then he realised that his room was something of a mess as well. "My apologies for the state here; I confess I was not expecting anyone to come and see me…"

Imoen frowned a little, and moved into the room to perch on the edge of the table there as Anomen flopped onto the bed. "Are the guys in the habit of leaving you to your own devices when you're like this?"

Delryn shrugged absently, examining his fingernails intently. "I don't see why not," he commented. "I don't see that there's much they could do by coming here. Seems something of a waste of time." He stopped, realising what he was saying. "Do not think I don't appreciate the company," he told her, a little too hurriedly. "It is just that, well… I am unsure that you can help."

"I can listen," Imoen offered brightly, smiling at him. "Listening can be the best help possible." She paused a moment as he hesitated. "That is, of course, if you want to talk. If you want to be alone, I can go…" She tentatively half-rose, uncertain at last if he even wanted her help.

"No, I… stay," Anomen stammered, half-rising himself. "That is, if you want to… I'm sure you have better things to do than listen to me whine…" My, your eloquence has improved somewhat, hasn't it? He thought grimly. You are almost impressive in your lack of articulacy…

Her smile broadened, and she felt herself warming to this young cleric a little more. "Anomen, if I had anything better to do, I'd have gone and done it. I'm here, ready for you to throw all your worries at me," she told him, raising an eyebrow again.

He sank back down again, and scrubbed his face with his hands. "I… it has been a long time before anyone has offered to just listen," he confessed, then shook his head. There was a long silence before he finally continued. "I was ready to kill that girl. And for what? Saerk is innocent… I was willing to kill his daughter to make him confess to something he didn't even do."

Imoen's expression softened, and she did her utmost to make sure pity didn't creep into her face. "But you didn't," she reminded him. "You didn't hurt either of them, and now you at least know that Saerk is innocent…" Her voice trailed off as she considered how weak her argument was.

Anomen laughed humourlessly. "I did not kill her because Yoshimo stopped me. You see how that is? A squire of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart is stopped from committing murder by a mere thief." His words were mocking of himself, however, rather than derisive of the bounty hunter. But he then realised what he had said, and who to. "I… am sorry," he mumbled at last. "I did not mean to offend, I simply…" His voice trailed off, and he shook his head.

Imoen brushed his apologies aside. "Don't be sorry. The irony of this situation is not missed on me, I can tell you." Her chuckle was weak, but as an attempt to brighten Anomen's mood a little, it didn't fail completely.

He smiled tightly. "In many ways, it is the rage that consumed me that worries me. Moira's death…" He stopped as his throat constricted it, then coughed and continued. "…her death has released a darkness within me, and I am unsure how to deal with it. I want to bring her murderer to justice, but at the same time I am afraid that my fury will bring me to kill those responsible…"

The pink-haired mage shrugged. "Perhaps, but… now you know it's there. We all have our demons, Anomen. Now you know yours, know that they're there, you can be more ready to tackle them if they pop up, right?"

"That's what Harrian said," Delryn sighed. "And he's right. Forewarned is forearmed. I just feel as if, when there is nobody to watch my steps, I shall falter from this path that has been set for me. Both Helm and the Order are harsh taskmasters, and being possessive of a raging anger is hardly going to help."

Imoen considered this, then moved over to sit next to him on the bed. "How'd you become a Helmite and then go off to join the Order, anyways?" she asked lightly. "It's not a path I'd guess you knight-wannabes would take."

Anomen shrugged. "My father refused to be my patron, so the only way I saw possible of joining the Order was to enter via the clergy… it was a long route, and whilst a simple knight does not have quite of the status of a paladin, there is still something there." He looked down, and smiled a little sheepishly. "It has been a dream of mine to ride under the Order's banner since I was a boy…"

Imoen grinned at his fervent words. "You know, I figured you'd be as uptight as the rest of them, but you're an okay guy." He turned his smile towards her, and her blue eyes danced. "You should smile a bit more, though."

He beamed at her, half sincere, half joking. "Whatever you desire, my lady," he told her lightly, standing up and stretching a little. "I… I thank you for taking time to talk to me. Before I joined this party, I was hard-pressed to find a single person who would help me when I needed assistance, let alone six." He paused, and frowned. "Well, perhaps five. Or four. I am unsure if Haer'Dalis or Jaheira would help me…"

Imoen shook her head, and patted him on the shoulder lightly. "Nah, they're okay. Jaheira can be a bit stony, but she's got a good heart. And Haer'Dalis…" She glanced around, and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Don't tell him I said this, but he's only like he is because he finds you easy to bait."

Anomen looked angry for a second, and she thought she had made a bad move, but his expression cleared quickly. "Damned tiefling," he mumbled wryly. "Mayhaps I should try giving him a taste of his own medicine?"

Imoen grinned again, then glanced around the room. "You know what, I'm peckish," she declared abruptly. "If you'd care to join me, then I'm sure we could go and discuss much over a dinner. I don't think anyone else down there is capable of sustaining a coherent conversation with anyone whilst eating…"

Delryn smiled again, reminded of how her own smile could make him feel better. He had commented on this to Harrian, and the thief had assured him it was a universal affect Imoen had on everyone. "I'd be happy to," he said, glad of the offer. He glanced down at his clothing. "If, ah, you'd give me a chance to get properly dressed. I believe the Laughing Rogue just off the Dock's District does food at our sorts of prices that don't consist entirely of rotting meat…"