Chapter 128: Scent of Burning
Imoen stirred absently at the pot in the kitchen of the Delryn estate, hardly paying attention to her cooking even as she prepared the meal for the party. Whilst Anomen had gone to certain lengths to get them various servants to help maintain the house, the cook had been dismissed whilst they were in the Underdark. As, with luck, they would not be staying in Athkatla for very long – no more than another tenday at worst – it was not necessary to spend more money on the estate. All it meant was that the party would have to cook their own food, something neither Anomen nor Imoen – as the only competent cooks in the party and the only people Anomen would trust in the kitchen – minded particularly. It was an easy chore compared to the maintaining of weapons and armour which the others were taking care of, and was something which kept her focused.
Well, it kept her focused if she was paying attention to it, which meant that her mind was elsewhere as a stew began to boil away a little bit too much. It was only the spattering of meaty juice on her hand which jerked her out of her reverie with a splash and a yelp.
A head poked around the door at her cry, and Anomen gave her a quizzical look. "My lady? Are you cooking, or destroying the meal?" he asked wryly, frowning slightly at the betrayed glare she was giving the large pot over the fire.
She shifted her glower towards him, unable to keep it up without smirking. "I'm fine! Really," she declared unconvincingly. "It's just the pot… not used to using it anymore," Imoen insisted.
Anomen raised an eyebrow as he stepped inside. "We've been back for several days, and you have cooked each meal each night without trouble," he pointed out, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the wall.
"Yes… well… it's… I…. shut up!" Imoen retorted at last weakly, making a point of not looking as she added some unidentifiable herbs to the now merrily boiling pot.
"Very well," Anomen replied slowly. There was a long pause as he stared at his feet, evidently searching for something to say. "How did you learn to cook?" he asked at last, and as it clearly wasn't what he had originally wanted to say, Imoen sighed with relief.
"Hey, I grew up in a library fortress with the best inn north of the Five Flagons, and my foster father was the innkeeper. If you're a prankster in an inn, you're going to be set to prepare dinner enough times," Imoen exclaimed, shaking her head and chuckling.
He nodded slowly. "I thought Gorion was your foster father?"
She shrugged. "Not… not really. I was really closer to Winthrop. Harrian was the one who treated Gorion like a father. For me, he was more of a… a favourite uncle, or something." Imoen glanced at him at last, though now it was his turn to avert her gaze. "What about you? How'd you learn to cook? I figured guys like you would spend their time learning swordsmanship, and all of that, not cooking."
Anomen chuckled quietly. "I did learn that. But not just that. My mother insisted that, from a young age, my sister and I be capable in a variety of skills. My father disapproved, as Cor does… did…" His voice trailed off, and shook his head. "By the time I joined the Order, on the campaigns I was the only one of the squires who knew the right end of a spoon to cook with, so I would always get delegated to prepare meals instead of having to sit watch at night. I am no master chef, as you have seen, but I cope in the field."
"We all do. Well, most of us do. Don't trust Harrian with anything more complicated to make than toast on a fire – and even then he'll probably set the bread alight. He's probably apt to hurt himself or ruin a meal even when he's just eating it!" Imoen exclaimed, grinning and shaking her head.
He chuckled dryly again. "So I've noticed."
Silence fell again, filled only by Imoen doing her best to pay her full attention to the meal, but there was an underlying tension it was clear that they could both feel, accentuated even more by Anomen's uncomfortable shifting.
"My lady…" It was clear that it was going to be something fairly important that he had to say, with that sort of formal beginning, "I would like to… to apologise for my behaviour… for my actions… last night. It was completely… unsuitable, and… improper."
Imoen froze, her back to him as she stirred the spoon, and closed her eyes, an out of sight grimace crossing her face. "Don't worry about it, Anomen," she replied as easily as she could manage – thus the words came out a little strangled. "You don't need to be concerned about it, or dwell on it… or think about it."
She could practically hear him stiffen. "I do not need to… think about it?" he repeated slowly, frowning at her as she turned around slowly. "So perhaps it would be best that I simply… forgot about the entire event?" There was a warning note in his voice as he spoke.
"I thought you said that you were sorry that it happened?" Imoen challenged weakly.
"Not that sorry," Anomen mumbled defiantly. "Not so sorry that it is something I wish to take back. Sorry that it happened in such circumstances, sorry that I was so forward, but not sorry that it happened." He paused, giving her an inquisitive look. "However, if you are sorry that it happened… if you would rather that I forgot, that we forgot, and simply dismissed it to the depths of time, then…" His voice trailed off, not really needing to finish the sentence.
Imoen made a face. It would be easier, so much easier, to pretend that this had never taken place… wouldn't it? The emotions would still be there, and Anomen would still be there, taut and brooding and watching her.
"I… no. I don't know," she stammered, looking away. "There's a lot to think about now, Anomen. Irenicus is lurking on the horizon, we're going to be going into battle against Bodhi, a powerful vampire, and there are the Fallen Paladins to deal with, not to mention the fact that…" Her voice trailed off. No, now really was not the time to throw in the wild card of her heritage into the mix. Once things were a little more stable, and she knew what was going on… maybe then.
Though it may have to be fairly soon. I doubt you can really reclaim your soul without him noticing something like that.
"So you wish for me to be… discreet. Give you time and space." Anomen looked as if this was something that would take a little effort to cope with, but he nodded slowly. "Very well. I am at your side in battle if it is needed, by your side if you call for me, and yours if you say the word, my lady. But only if you wish it to be so," he declared solemnly, drawing himself to his full height and looking at her.
See, this is the difference between him and Haer'Dalis. When Haer'Dalis says it, it's fun and I can laugh at it, because… because it's just words. Anomen… Gods, when you say this, I think you actually mean it. This really rather worried Imoen in ways she wasn't too sure she could grasp right then. "I… thank you. I won't… I'll be thinking always…" She stopped, and recomposed herself. "I'll try to get my thinking done sometime, try to not make you wait too long…"
"I shall wait for as long as is needed," Anomen replied, his face closing up a little as he stepped forwards. "Now, perhaps I should take care of the meal, as I fear that at your hands it will become inedible?"
Imoen glanced at the pot, which was now bubbling a little over-enthusiastically, and nodded slowly. "Perhaps… yes. I can find other things to do," she conceded, stepping away as he stepped forward and grabbed a ladle. There was a moment of silence as she watched him, then frowned. "Where's Haer'Dalis?" she asked at last, not really thinking about the question until it came out, and mentally kicking herself as he looked at her stiffly. "I… there are some spells we need to go over," she stammered unconvincingly.
Anomen shrugged the shrug of those who know the answer but wish they didn't and really don't give a damn. "He is upstairs, I believe." A beat of silence. "With Aerie."
Touché, you sneaky little… Imoen nodded as emotionlessly as she could manage before turning and leaving, wishing that the churn of confusing and conflicting emotions would rather go away… jealousy at the news that Haer'Dalis was spending time with Aerie, again… a desire to just run in and tell Anomen that she didn't need to wait at all… both were completely ridiculous and unthinkable. But it was evident that she had a lot to consider.