Chapter 134: Soulless

Anomen stared blankly for a few moments, his eyes wide and surprised, feeling as if he'd just been beaten around the head by Minsc. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Imoen, who was resolutely not meeting his gaze and shifting from foot to foot in the middle of the garden. "Bodhi… stole your soul," Anomen concluded slowly at last, still reeling.

"I'm going for a walk," Imoen replied stubbornly, pushing past him and stepping out the front door into the street without looking back or hesitating. The door slammed shut behind her, leaving an exceptionally stunned Anomen to make a half-hearted move after her.

He stopped after a few steps, staring at the closed door. Somewhere, at the back of his mind he remembered that he'd come out in the first place to mention that dinner was ready, but this somehow seemed inconsequential.

Bodhi has her soul… Bodhi stole her soul… that's what we're going for; not just the Rhynn Lanthorn… Anomen took a deep, shaking breath. She's a Bhaalspawn. That's why… why she wouldn't… Gods, everyone else knew, didn't they…

He looked up as footsteps on the stairs could be heard, and Haer'Dalis appeared at the bottom quickly. He must have only been gone a few seconds, and looked fairly exasperated. "My hound, though you will be very loath to take my advice, this I know… perhaps you should consider going after her?" he suggested, looking like he couldn't believe Anomen was still here.

The tiefling's right! Anomen blinked at how confusing that in itself was, but shook that away as he nodded mutely, hurrying for the door and pausing only to grab a cloak from the hooks. It was raining ferociously hard now, and as he stepped out, he felt himself soaked to the bone even before he could pull the cloak on.

The rain made visibility fairly limited, though the Government District was absolutely deserted because of it. As he ran out into the expansive gardens of the District, cloak flying behind him so wildly that it was offering precious little protection he desperately scanned the area, looking for wherever she'd have gone.

He saw her at last, perched by the side of the fountain, utterly drenched to the skin, staring at the water of the fountain as it ran through its course and, in the high winds, probably drenched her just as much as the rain did.

Imoen spotted him approaching before he arrived, and this time she met his gaze. Her eyes seemed somehow darker, more haunted, and he prayed it was just the sudden stress rather any affect of being soulless he hadn't noticed before… or was imagining now.

"Didn't you have to get dinner ready?" Her voice was deceptively light as she stood up, raising a hand to brush her sopping wet hair out of her face, for all the good it did in the high winds.

"Reynald can deal with it," Anomen replied in the same tone, staring at her and not even slightly sure what he was supposed to say next. He realised that they had rather gone beyond the moment to watch words carefully, so he took a deep breath. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Imoen shrugged. "I didn't mean to tell anyone. The only one I did tell was Haer'Dalis, and that was… right after it had happened… Harrian wasn't there, he was the only one who could possibly listen and hope to understand…" She waved a hand vaguely, frowning. "Jaheira didn't need to be told. She's known about my heritage for as long as she's known about Harrian's, and reached the obvious conclusions. Minsc is… well, I never told Minsc, but he's Minsc. You…"

Anomen took a step forward, folding his arms across his chest and desperately trying to not sound angry. He wasn't sure he was angry, truth be told; he was more stunned right now and trying to work out what the hell had happened before he worked out how he felt about it all. "What about me? I asked why you didn't tell me." More venom than he intended crept into his voice.

Although Imoen seemed to notice this, she didn't react. "I don't know. I just… I didn't, not at first. I was afraid of how you'd react. Things were so delicate, what with you having left already… and I didn't know if you'd understand. Harrian had to understand. Haer'Dalis… has… a different way of looking at things. Jaheira had always known." She raised her head and looked him in the eye. "You… I didn't know what you'd think, how you'd look at me."

Anomen snorted, throwing his arms in the air with exasperation. "You honestly believed that I would look at you differently? You believed that I would not stand by you as I always have? You believed I would cast you out when I was honour-bound to stand by the quest of your brother and retrieve his soul?"

"It didn't make sense, I know that!" Imoen snapped, suddenly angry with him for being angry. "But then it became more about you not knowing, rather than about what you didn't know. And then we were in the Underdark, and then there was that mess with the Fallen Paladins, and then…"

Then I kissed you. Yes, I know. Anomen took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. It wasn't fair for him to be angry at her. "Were you ever planning on telling me?" he asked as coolly as he could manage.

Imoen shifted uncomfortably. "I meant to tell you before tomorrow. I didn't think that I could somehow retrieve my soul without you noticing," she mumbled, shaking her head. "Fine, so I was procrastinating! Happy?"

Anomen yanked off his cloak and stepped to her, wrapping it around her shoulders. "We should go back to the house. We'll get ill otherwise, and then what good will we be to fight tomorrow?" His voice was wry, yet sad.

She nodded, unconsciously moving closer to him for warmth. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you," she whispered as he guided her back towards the Delryn estate. "It wasn't… wasn't a conscious decision, not entirely. I just managed to justify to myself that there wasn't a… a right time to let you know…"

"I know," Anomen said quietly, wondering if he did. "I suggest you go get dry, and I'll bring you up some food to your room."

Reynald had started to continue the chess game on his own when they came back, and gave them both merely concerned glances when Imoen headed up the stairs and Anomen made a bee-line for the kitchen, both of them drenched through. Anomen barely looked up when the fallen paladin entered the kitchen as he prepared a bowl of stew for Imoen, putting it under the flame for a few more moments to warm it up a little.

"So she is a Bhaalspawn too?" Reynald asked uncomfortably – not because of the subject matter, but more because how delicate a situation this obviously was. "Like Lord Corias… I suppose that makes her more than merely his foster-sister…"

Anomen grimaced as he grabbed cutlery and put the meal on the table, eyeing Reynald curiously. "Is that a problem for you?"

Reynald snorted. "Anomen, I am someone who has been condemned for their actions, for their mistakes, for their crimes. I am not about to condemn someone for what I would consider to be an accident of birth."

"Good," Anomen replied curtly. "I suggest you get to preparing your equipment. We have an early start tomorrow," he continued vaguely, walking past Reynald and heading for the stairs.

Imoen had dried herself and changed her clothes when he knocked at her door and entered, making him fairly aware of how he was still sopping wet, albeit not as soaked as she had been. "Your food, my lady."

She smiled weakly yet sincerely at him and took the bowl from his outstretched hands, moving to perch on the bed as he uncomfortably went to sit on the chair at the desk, suddenly acutely aware that this bedroom had once been Moira's room. Anomen briefly wondered if she would approve of all he was doing here, of all he had done.

"It's good, as always," Imoen mumbled, sounding a little like her old self as she quickly ate the stew.

"When you are done, I shall let you sleep," Anomen replied casually, thinking that he should probably go but somehow unable to move. "We will all need our strength tomorrow."

Imoen shook her head firmly. "No way. Even if I tried, there's no way I'm going to be able to sleep tonight," she said with surprising conviction, actually chuckling wryly a little. "I'll be fine. You go get some sleep."

"I never sleep before a battle," Anomen admitted. "I had planned to read a little… or, if thoughts became too troublesome, spend some time praying to my Lord Helm. And if I drift off, so much the better…"

"Then go do that." Imoen put down the bowl and fixed him with a fierce look. "You don't need to wait on me hand and foot, you know."

Anomen stood up slowly, and as Imoen's expression flickered – doubtless she thought he was leaving – he walked over to the bed and sat down next to her stiffly. "I am under the impression that you will not be passing a very easy night," he said. "Either nightmares in sleep or tormenting thoughts in consciousness. Do you wish me to leave you to that?"

Imoen didn't answer straight away, merely stared at her hands. "I don't expect anything else. I'm afraid, of course." She glanced up, looking out the window. "Tomorrow, we go to fight an almightily powerful vampire and her minions to retrieve my soul. I don't see how that's something which anyone can take lightly."

Anomen hesitated for a moment. At the one moment, there were things – things about her heritage, her Bhaal taint – he wanted to know about, but the next he wanted to focus merely on wiping away her fears. He decided on the latter course of action – working out what in the hells to make of her heritage could come later. "We shall defeat her. We have the strength, the numbers, and the determination." He leant towards her slightly, conspiratorially. "For what other cause could we possibly have allied the Order of the Radiant Heart and the Shadow Thieves of Athkatla? This is great indeed."

"I suppose." Imoen frowned, looking as if she was fighting with something inside. "It's just… we have to make it. If not for me, then for Harrian. And if not for Harrian, for Suldanesselar."

Anomen looked seriously at her. "We will make it, my lady. I promise you." He tentatively reached out to take her hand. "I swear to you that we shall retrieve your soul. On my life, I swear that it shall be done."

Some of Imoen's resolve seemed to crumble, and she shivered, leaning closer into him and resting her head on his shoulder. "Could you… just stay here for a bit? I mean, you don't have to, and you don't have to stay very long, but could you…"

"Stay?" A small, if nervous, smile played across Anomen's lips, and he shifted back a little to rest his back against the wall, hesitantly putting his arm around her and pulling her close. He knew he was still pretty wet, but Imoen didn't seem to complain. "That… that, my lady, I can do."