(Screams) Argh! Not another one!? You perverts!
BloodyKitsune, I may do one. Just don't hold your breath.
Also, time to explain how Annah got here! I know I'm going to mess up some facts and names (such as where she was born in Sigil and where she was raised and how...) but frankly, I don't really care. Much.
If you know the correct names 'n stuff, stick it in your review. And I'm still open to suggestions on plots 'n stuff... AND A BLOODY THREESOME LEMON DOESN'T COUNT! (You just want to see Annah use that tail of hers, don't you? Wink)
"Th-than..." Patrick quietly gasped as his body relaxed for the last time, his eyes beginning to stare lifelessly through the crouched Loké.
The half-elf hung his head silently as he and the late Patrick glowed in the speckled spotlight, caused by the now streaming light through the trees before turning his head up to the canopy of leaves. Seemingly searching for something he looked at the leaves as they swayed in the wind, before he brought his head back down and stood up.
The others were standing several feet away from him, remaining silent.
Loké pulled his sword out of Patrick's chest and gazed into his lifeless eyes, reflecting. Leader mode overrode anything he felt or thought however, and he turned to others issuing commands in a flat voice as he did so.
"Aerie, Minsc, you two sort out camp, Keldorn, Jaheira, you try and hunt something. Annah and I'll get firewood." The group nodded. They knew better than to argue with him when he was in this mood.
"Da' ya wannae talk a'boot it?" She gently asked. They'd been picking firewood for around ten minutes, just out of sight of the camp, in a deafening silence. It had been like a pit, begging to be filled and Annah couldn't stand it any more.
"Not really," the half-elf flatly replied. Annah was about to try again when he suddenly dropped the bundle of wood he'd been carrying and sat down melancholy, interrupting her.
"It's just...when we were fighting him, when he was the shadow lord... I..." He visibly shrank in size as she walked next to him and sat down, neatly putting her bundle next to his.
"I saw myself," the youth confessed as he held his head in his hands. Annah gave him a sympathetic look and snaked her tail around his waist, giving him a gentle squeeze of reassurance.
"Yeh nat gannae end up like that," she whispered. "Ah've only been around yeh fer a few months an ah can see tha' yeh wannae let tha' happen to yeh."
Loké didn't seem to hear, remaining motionless. Annah decided to change the subject.
"Yeh've asked about meh," She stated. "An', I've always brushed yeh off." Loké lifted his head and looked at her with vague curiosity, too depressed to really care. She made a hesitant throat noise and began.
"Ah was born on Sigil, or as it's also knoown, 'The City of Doors'. It's calle'd tha' 'caz it 'as at least one por'al to anywhere. The abyss, the prime material plane, ethereal plane-when ah say everywhere ah mean everywhere," smiling faintly at Loké's slightly amazed look.
"Ah was raised by a guy named Pharod, I nevae knew meh parents, so he was a father figure too meh, teaching me all ah know... a lot li'e Gorion fer yoo," she smiled. Her audience looked at her with a smile of his own.
It had been the first time he'd seen her smile. All the other times had been triumphant, mischievous; cold... this was the first genuine smile he'd seen. And she looked even more beautiful because of it. His depressed mood vanished as she told him about her adventures with The Nameless One: how she, Morte, Vhailor, Fall-From-Grace and Dak'kon had helped him find out who he was.
"A celibate succubus, a talking floating skull, and a haunted suit of armour... and I thought we were mis-matched..." Loké snickered when Annah had finished telling him of her adventure.
Her smile faded though. "Yea, well... noo the story of hoo ah wound up here." She sighed sadly. "Ta cu' a loong story shor'; ah'd lifted some stuff from someone aye'd had 'The Lady's' ear. So ah was 'imprisoned.' It's kinda'ard to explain. It-it... it's like yer're in an ethereal Sigil. You nevae age, food appears regularly, and you just have to find the exit. When ya doo, lets jus' say it's best to go an holiday from Sigil. Permanently. Och, so ah practically took the first por'tal ah found when ah got out of the prison; and wouldn't ya knoo it, it led to another feckin' prison!" She gave Loké a wry smile. "You can work the rest out, laddie."
He raised an eyebrow. "Did you just say that affectionately?"
"Maybe," came the reply with accompanying 'butter-wouldn't-melt-in-mouth' look.
Sitting there in amiable silence, they simply looked at one another thoughtlessly. And for once, just once, the world didn't seem to be out to get them. Sadly, all things must come to an end-the nice ones sooner than the nasty ones apparently.
"We'd better get back with the firewood," Loké thought aloud, "It's dusk..."
Several weeks (and many catfights) later...
Loké bolted upright, sweat drenched and trembling in his bed as he wildly looked around his room. As his bearings came to he relaxed slightly, the words "You will accept the gifts offered to you." echoing in his mind.
Heaving a sigh, he slipped on his tunic (he always wore his trousers these days) and gently padded over to the door, grabbing his short sword. He gave a wry chuckle-it'd become a security blanket of sorts-even with the awesome power of Celestial Fury, he didn't feel entirely safe without it by his side. Just before he left the room, he quietly walked over to the window and looked through the shutters. It was still night, and the bridge was practically deserted.
He gave a silent sigh. At least the Five Flagons Inn had staff all night as well as day.
Yawning quietly he plodded down the stairs as quietly as he could. The other patrons would probably not appreciate being woken up by him.
When was able to see the room as he slunk down the stairs he raised an eyebrow.
Well... all except Aerie.
Sitting quietly at a table in the middle of the room occasionally sipping from the glass, lost in thought. The Bhaalspawn paused-he really wasn't in the mood for her to deride Annah, like both had done when both alone and together with him this past week. Instinct told him not to retreat however-it'd seldom been wrong (after the first year of adventuring anyway) so he went with it, walking over in a deliberate fashion towards her. Upon hearing his approach she gave him a wan smile and took a large sip of her wine. He sat down opposite of her and gave a small nod in greeting. She simply gazed unblinkingly at him, studying him. He gazed back. Sitting there, pensively looking at each other in silence, the tension was palpable.
Unable to take it, the pair started talking about various things: how they were, why up so late, what they were going to do tomorrow. However, eventually the conversation dried up.
After several minutes the silence was shattered as Aerie took a sip of her wine, eyes never leaving Loké.
"You've chosen."
It was a statement.
Loké nodded hesitantly. "I-I think so..."
Aerie's turn to nod. "You chose several weeks ago I think. I-I know I'm naïve with many things, but, " she gave a thin smile, "but I've become very good at people."
A heartfelt sigh of disappointment. "I knew, inside myself, you would choose her. Sh-she's so beautiful and so much more exotic compared to me, without my wings..."
Another sigh.
The uncomfortable silence returned.
"I..." Loké fumbled. "I... I... You're... I had a choice Aerie. You-secure, sincere, warm, kind and beautiful. And then Annah-mysterious, sexy, unpredictable..." he gave a small chuckle. "Dangerous. You... I think you'd want to settle down after all this. I don't think I would. I could have chose between a secure relationship with you; I want something more wild more..." He broke off with a sad smile.
"...Unpredictable?" the avariel sadly asked.
He nodded his head.
They sat there in silence once again, lost in their own thoughts as they looked at anything but each other. Eventually the silence became too much again for Loké, who decided to flee from the emotional carnage.
"I'm going to try and get some more sleep. Goodnight Aerie," he murmured quietly as he rose from his chair.
She just sipped some more wine.
Halfway up the stairs Loké paused and looked at her sadly.
"Aerie?"
The wingless elf looked up to him.
"You'll meet someone." He gave her a pleasant smile. "I know you will."
Despite her feelings, she found herself smiling slightly as he continued his ascent.
As he left however, her smile disappeared and she sat in the silent tavern, looking at her wineglass, feeling just like it.
Empty.
And so we have it; the competition is out of the way, and now the odd couple (only!) have got to pull their fingers out and take their relationship to the next level. I'm not actually too sure where to take this story now though, which is a bit of a problem... I've never done a romance fic before. Heck, this is only my third ever.
I'm open to suggestions for plots and flirts. (Players who keep track with the mods for BGII will get what I mean by flirts!)
I found writing that scene between Aerie and Loké very difficult. Originally it was going to be Annah and someone (probably Keldorn) but I decided to let one of the other characters, in this case Aerie, have some glory.
I believe Aerie is quite perceptible when she thinks about things. After all, she has around 16 wisdom in the game, and from the sources I've read, 10 is average, 11-13 is above average, 14-17 is substantially above average and 18 plus is stupidly special.
So, using strength as an example:
10 is average: you and me, say.
11-13 is someone who works out a bit.
14-17 is someone who works out a lot.
18 or more is 'World's Strongest Man' strong.
So not only would she be able to guess/perceive Loké's choice, she'd be wise enough to 'let him go' as it were.
...Well. That's the excu-I mean theory anyway...
On a slightly useless note, anyone with a charisma score of 18 or more makes everyone of the opposite sex be under the same effects of a Charm spell if my memory serves.