Chapter 110: Green is the Colour, Again

"Don't you need to sleep?" Anomen asked as Jaheira glided over to where he sat, alone, in the middle of the campsite and moved to lounge comfortably on the ground opposite him. "Your watch isn't for another hour."

"I am a druid; sleep is not a physical need as it once was. I do sleep, but it is usually only so that I keep in with the routine of adventuring companions, and occasionally as a luxury." Jaheira stretched a little, massaging her neck muscles. "Is that the helmet?"

Anomen glanced up from tossing the small metal helm from hand to hand, then nodded slowly. "Aye. The Svirfneblin leader was quite happy to pass it over, and they assured us that they would be 'doing much bowing and scraping' to the drow. Though I cannot be content that we have aided in the drow's oppression of these people, it is better than bloodshed." He paused, giving her a curious look. "I will presume that Solaufein left as expected, and did not spot you?"

"No. From his pace, he seemed more than glad to get to return to Ust Natha and be spared the minor work Phaere gave us. He was barely paying attention to his surroundings… which is good, for it would not do to have the Matron Mother know of our mercy," Jaheira mused, frowning a little.

There was a long pause as Anomen nodded, looking back at the helmet. "Do you think we should spill some blood on it? Add to the authenticity of our claim?" he asked suddenly, frowning.

She considered this for a moment. "Perhaps it might be a little too much. It is worn, beaten and dirty; surely that will be convincing enough," the druid pointed out, shrugging.

The Helmite nodded again, and yet another long silence fell upon them as they both sat in their own thoughts until he spoke again. "Why did you decide to not sleep tonight, if you usually do?"

Jaheira took a deep breath, looking hesitant, but Anomen's attention was diverted from a shuffling behind them. They both glanced around to see Haer'Dalis creeping in what the bard probably thought was a discreet manner out and away from the tent the druid shared with Imoen, heading back towards his own tent.

A scowl crossed Anomen's face, and he raised his head to fix the Blade with a derisive, challenging look. "If you wish to be up at such hours, tiefling, then feel free to have my watch," he called out accusingly, and was rewarded by seeing Haer'Dalis jump a little.

There was a single moment during which the tiefling looked quite taken aback, but within seconds the look was replaced by his usual smug confidence. "Have no worries, Anomen, at this very moment I am heading to slumber – do keep up your good work as a watch hound," he declared lightly.

The Helmite's look darkened distinctly. "Somehow, I am not entirely sure that what you were doing several moments ago was sleeping," he retorted, a little snidely.

Haer'Dalis grinned back at him, reaching the entrance to his tent. "No? No… I suppose it wasn't," he replied, then shrugged and slipped inside, disappearing from sight.

Anomen stared for a long moment, his mouth hanging open a little, before he snapped it shut and threw the helmet to the ground with frustration, folding his arms across his chest and glowering deeply. "That damnable tiefling! If he were not Harrian's friend, then by Helm, I swear I would… would… Gods, whatever I could manage to do!"

Jaheira shook her head lightly, smiling a slight and knowing smile. "That was why I am still awake. I saw him creeping to the tent, and thought that going for a walk would be wise, to save… myself embarrassment." She caught his eye, her expression firm. "I would not think anything happened, Anomen. Imoen is not a foolish enough girl to do something that… foolish, with that bard, and they were probably anticipating my return at any moment, so she would not have wanted to be in a… compromising position if I were to suddenly appear."

Anomen forced himself to shrug, looking away. "It is not something that bothers me particularly," he lied badly, staring into the fire so he wouldn't have to look her in the eye. At least, no more than it bothers Harrian, or even you… Imoen is quite an innocent, and…" His voice trailed off weakly as he looked at Jaheira again, and he sagged, defeated.

Jaheira gave him a slightly encouraging, weak smile. "Jealousy is not the most becoming of emotions, Anomen. Do not succumb to it."

Despite everything, this brought a short bark of laughter from the cleric. "My lady Jaheira, I have never thought you to be necessarily the most humorous of individuals, but I must confess, I forgot how powerful your dry wit could be on occasion."

She bristled a little, glaring at him until he stopped laughing. "What is your point, Anomen?"

He sagged again, scratching at his chin where his beard would be, suffering the same discomfort as Harrian. "It does not take a master of reading body language to see how you suffer as I do, Jaheira… when he has his long, quiet conversations with Aerie, or whenever Phaere gives him that long, evaluating look as if he is a piece of meet in a butcher's… your plight is most easy to see." Anomen smiled slightly, tentatively, encouragingly as the druid averted her eyes. "And you worry unnecessarily, I fear."

"Unnecessarily?" Jaheira repeated, a little incredulously. "I think you have not read enough, Lord Delryn. I think you have not noticed that the looks Phaere gives him are returned – he desires her, it is plain enough to see – or how he seems far more relaxed and at ease after a conversation with that… weak… thing." She snorted, rolling her eyes. "She wilts like a flower and expects him to pick him up, and Harrian, defender and champion of all that is pure and light, swoops to her side. It's almost nauseating."

Anomen shifted uncomfortably. "Well… I would not read too much into Phaere. She is an attractive drow… most… enticing and exotic. But Harrian is, I am sure, not fool enough to play into her hands, for I am certain he is aware of the possible disastrous consequences of such an action. As for Aerie… I cannot speak of what they discuss or how she may be able to set his mind at rest, but I can guarantee you that the look in his eyes when they talk is pale in comparison to the looks he gives you."

Jaheira snorted. "He does not look my way; I would notice such a thing. And there are no disastrous consequences of submitting to Phaere's will at this point."

"Your fury?" Anomen smiled wryly as she glared again. "He looks. He is subtle, but he looks. Whatever… spell the Avariel has cast on him, whatever affect she has, I assure you is passing. Give him time. Try hoping."

"Hope? Hope is… hope is dead," the druid retorted, grimacing, but her voice was weak, and she shook her head. "Besides, I have more to do with my life than to sit and hope that he will decide if and when he chooses to notice me. I will not be tugged about like this on his whims, his desires. I have my own life."

Anomen considered this for a moment, shrugging. "Perhaps," he mused, frowning. "But if you are sworn to stand by his side for this time, to aid him in retrieving his soul… as long as you are by his side, is there any hurt in hoping? This life is… it is too short to throw away chances on matters of pride, especially when the chances are of love."

Jaheira paused, thinking. "When the chance arrives, I shall then consider it. As it stands, there are no chances, nor do I see there to be chances in the near future." There was another second's silence, then she glanced over at him. "And you? You do not seize chances, but out of fear rather than pride."

"I have seen no chances," Anomen retorted quietly, thoughtfully. "Her affection lies clearly with that tiefling… I doubt she even sees me. If we talk, even when we are alone, it is as if there lies a barrier between us. It is since I left the party to return to the Order… as if that somehow changed how she looks at me." He sighed. "That tiefling… I know his intentions. He cares nothing for her, not truly. He will use her, and then when he has sated his curiosity or baser desires, will move on, leaving her in whatever condition he reduces her to." The cleric's jaw tightened. "If he hurts her, then I swear by Helm that I shall kill him."

"My advice is a little more useful, and is more that you do not allow him to proceed that far. Imoen keeps you at arms' length, this much is true, but you would do better to discover why, and try to change that, than simply accept it and hang your head. Seize chances," Jaheira told him, with a slight glint in her eye.

Anomen nodded slowly, mulling this over, and silence fell on them for many moments. "It is strange, lady Jaheira, that we have travelled together for so long and yet, truly, know so very little of each other, do you not think?" he said at last, shouldering the topic of conversation onto a different track.

The druid shrugged slightly. "In ways… but also, though in the same party, our concerns have never been quite the same. I can and do fight alongside you, but there has not, truly, been many of the crises that have struck the group which we have aided one another on."

The cleric nodded yet again, reaching down to his side for his water flask, and took a swig from it. "I have a little under an hour until my watch is over; you do not need to sleep tonight. Perhaps swapping tales may take our minds from these dark places…"