Chapter 117: Break of Dawn
Harrian wasn't all that used to sleeping out in the open air. When the party camped, he would have the shelter of a tent, and in a city, the comfort of an actual bed. His fondness for the outdoors usually rather depended on the weather, which was why he was quite happy it hadn't rained the night before. He did wish he'd brought a blanket with him, however, as his cloak, thick and heavy as it was, didn't cover two people all that well. The inevitable result was that they'd had to snuggle a bit more, so he wasn't going to complain too loudly.
The sun rising over the treetops woke him up, pulling him from slumber to snoozing, keeping his eyes shut and revelling in the morning. It as only a poke in the ribs from the conscious druid by his side which roused him fully.
He jerked upright, his cloak sliding off him, and blinked groggily as he began to completely wake up. "What was hat for?" he demanded, a little petulantly, as he fixed Jaheira with a half-glare.
"The sun is up, the day is here, and do you really want the others to stumble across us here?" Jaheira pointed out, rolling over and fishing around for her tunic.
"Whoever interrupts us is on watch for the whole of tonight," Harrian replied deftly, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her back to him to kiss her again.
"He felt her melt a little, resistance waning as they fell back down onto the grass, her arms encircling his neck. He began to smile through the kiss, broadly enough that he had to break it, and pulled back a little to regard her. Despite the smile which lingered, there was a deep seriousness in his dark eyes as he looked at her. "Jaheira… you know I –"
"Harrian! Where in the blazes are you… oh, Helm!" Anomen's exclamation was one of surprise and slight irritation, but there was also a touch of delight lingering there. He side-stepped quickly as a heavy boot flew through the air and hit the branch next to his head. "Ah… perhaps I should… yes, I'll tell the others that the two of you will be arriving… shortly," the cleric stammered, turning then veritably flying back through the trees.
Harrian flopped back down on his back on the grass. "Alright, alright, you win," he told Jaheira ruefully, an arm reaching out to find his trousers. "But when we get back to Athkatla, I'm sending them all out on a pointless quest so they're out of our hair as we lock ourselves in the Delryn estate for a good two days."
She glanced over, vaguely amused as she raised an eyebrow at him. "You assume much," Jaheira retorted dryly as she grabbed his tunic.
His smile was a little playful, even with the grimace on his face. "Sorry."
"And stop saying that," the druid continued, leaning over and kissing him on the forehead. "Actions speak louder than words."
"Then I'll have to prove myself when we get back to Athkatla, shan't I?" Harrian replied, smirking a little as he sat up and stretched groggily.
They dressed quickly so as not to bring down another wandering party member on a hint for them, and made their way back through the trees, following the scent of cooking that filled the air to navigate the place which looked so very different by daylight.
Anomen was tending to the large pot sizzling over a fire in the middle of the camp, and bashfully didn't look up at them as they emerged from the trees. Imoen was smirking and trying not to as she dismantled her tent with Aerie; Edwin sat on a log poring over his spellbook, ignoring them; Haer'Dalis gave Harrian a little wink which infuriated the thief more than amused, and poor Minsc just looked clueless.
"That doesn't look much like a breakfast," Harrian noted as if nobody was giving them a second look as he approached Anomen. "More like a… stew."
"We have run out of supplies and had to hunt for the meat. Bacon does not roam freely," Anomen pointed out, and would have been a little peeved if he weren't so embarrassed, not meeting Harrian's eye.
"If you were any other cook I'd criticise you," Harrian declared dryly as he picked up a bowl and helped himself to a ladle of stew. "But the taste of fresh, normal meat is one I cannot pass on after eating stale break and gods know what in the Underdark."
"Aye. My mouth waters in anticipation of merely imagining ,one of Mistress Thunderburp's sumptuous meals at the Five Flagons when we return. Not to insult your culinary skills, of course, my eagle," Haer'Dalis declared as he stepped up to the pot.
Anomen stared, stunned for a moment at his new title, but didn't have a chance to pass comment as Imoen stepped up. "And what of my culinary skills, hey?" the mage asked the bard teasingly. Harrian groaned and mumbled something about fleeing fireworks before rapidly departing, leaving a quick-thinking Haer'Dalis in a tight spot in his wake.
The bard pasted a smile onto his face as he turned to Imoen, and shrugged extravagantly. "As always, your meals are a delight to the palate of anyone vaguely refined… but you have other skills which surpass your cooking by far."
Anomen snorted, helping himself to a bowl of 'breakfast'. "If that was supposed to be a compliment to the lady, bard, then it was a particularly poor one – even by your lethargic standards," he interjected, evidently not even vaguely inclined to give Haer'Dalis any sort of victory in his presence.
Imoen's expression flickered, and she smartly decided to change the subject to avoid too much of a conflict, which seemed intent on arising. "I'll take it; you're the better cook anyway, Anomen," she said quickly, then felt both pleased and embarrassed as the cleric smiled shyly. "Besides, Haer'Dalis, I believe you owe the two of us some gold."
The shy smile became a smirk of Anomen's as he turned to face the bard. "Ah, yes, tiefling, indeed you do. That would be ten gold apiece, would it not?" he asked, giving Imoen a sideways glance.
Haer'Dalis looked taken aback for a moment, then gave an exaggerated scowl which took some sting out of his defeat. "It seems as if a love for entropy has left me out of pocket. Very well, since our raven and the druid appear to have made amends, I will give you your damnable gold," he told them indulgently, sighing dramatically as he shifted through his gold pouch at his waist for the money he owed them. "I would not suggest you waste it on drinks, either," he continued, striding off and heading towards Minsc, who was dismantling their tent.
Anomen raised an eyebrow as the bard walked off. "I believe that he is actually quite angry. This is the first time I've seen him display anything other than that dramatic patronising which seems to perpetually follow him."
Imoen frowned a little, and wanted to leap to Haer'Dalis's defence… but somehow, she couldn't find the words. She decided to instead just help herself to a bowl of the stew as her mind ticked over hurriedly. She and Anomen had hardly spoken since that night in the Svirfneblin village, and never one-on-one since then. It felt uncomfortable… there were times it seemed as if he was the only one who didn't know that she was a Bhaalspawn, and that had erected a silent barrier between the two of them.
Just tell him, a voice inside of her said. He'll understand. He'll listen. He never judged Harrian, and he knows me. He knows that I'm not just a monster, a creature of murder. Imoen suppressed a shudder quickly. At least, he thinks that. Does anyone know whether or not I'm a creature of murder? I know I don't.
"Gold well won, my lady," Anomen continued, as if feeling he needed to fill the silence, and glanced over to where Harrian and Jaheira were seated, talking quietly together. "And it is good to see that things are well between them again. I don't think I've seen either of them smile like that in… far too long."
Imoen glanced over at where he was looking, then smiled softly and nodded. "I know. It's good to see them happy. They both deserve a bit of happiness." Tell him! Gods, he'll understand. He won't judge you, or look at you differently.
Anomen nodded slowly. "Aye. Though I cannot envy them. I see it being a hard path for them both." He frowned slightly. "Being a Child of Murder… what can that do to love? Or loving a Bhaalspawn." He sighed. "It will be hard for them both. Chaos will hound him, and so it will hound her, and though they may be happy now… will they be happy forever?"
The words froze in Imoen's mind even before she could form them in her mouth. Does he really feel that way? Does he really think that it's… like that? There was a pause as she frowned. Is he right? Imoen shrugged. "I… I suppose. It must be hard. But they'll get by. Somehow. They're both strong enough to." She looked away quickly, focusing on her bowl so as not to meet his eyes, meet his gaze.
Anomen nodded, utterly oblivious to how much his words had affected her. "We shall see. I suppose it is their lives, and up to them to live them. Certainly they are better with each other than without." He paused, then shifted slightly. "And you, my lady? Are you happy with Haer'Dalis?"
A piece of meat lodged itself in her throat, and she coughed vehemently in an attempt to dislodge it, despite the lack of air silently thankful that such a distraction had arisen to give her a few seconds to gather her thoughts.
His concerned hand landing on her shoulder made her jump as she stopped choking and spat the offending piece of food onto the floor, grimacing. "Ugh… I think that was just a chewy bit," she mumbled, rubbing her throat and managing to shrug off his hand without seeming too much as if she was running away. She'd be a fool to think he hadn't noticed, however.
There was a pause as she realised that his question couldn't be evaded – though he hadn't repeated it and didn't seem about to, there was a worry in his eyes which prompted her to continue. "Haer'Dalis? Haer'Dalis is… I don't even know. I suppose it does matter, but…"
She stopped as Harrian stood up, rubbing his eyes wearily and cast his gaze around the campsite. "Everyone?" he asked, raising his voice a little to get the attention of the whole party. "I think it's about time we got going. Anomen, stop killing Imoen; Minsc, stop suffocating Haer'Dalis with that tent canvas; Edwin, stop glaring at Aerie. We want to be back in Athkatla by nightfall."