Summary: What does Aribeth's best friend have to say about her descent? Could she prevent it altogether?
Disclaimer: Neverwinter Nights and the characters and storylines therein are property of BioWare. The character Febrien was created by and belongs to me.
Febrien leaned back against the trunk of an old elm tree, staring into the flames and absently sipping her hot drink. She was fortunate enough to have found a patch of fenberries growing just outside the camp's perimeter and had mashed them up and soaked them in boiling water and bay leaves to create a rather pleasant tea-like beverage. It wasn't much compared to the mulled mead offered by any respectable tavern, but the steaming concoction offered a measure of comfort out here on the open road.
"So how did you know where I was going?" she asked the young man sitting across the fire from her.
Connor lifted his head at her question and took a long swallow before answering. "Alaric told me you'd gotten a letter from the lady Aribeth all the way from Neverwinter. He said that with all the complaining I do about wanting to be an adventurer I ought to go with you. I expect this is his way of testing me before I start training as a fifth level wizard."
"It's wonderful he's gained so much confidence in your abilities," Febrien congratulated with a smile. "I guess this means he's not still upset about the time you singed off his beard," she continued, laughing at the memory.
"It wouldn't have happened if Nora hadn't pushed me while I was casting a Burning Hands spell!" he defended indignantly. "I keep telling you, that girl is bad news."
"You're just upset because Alaric's already training her as a level five, admit it," Febrien countered, her eyes sparkling.
"I will not," Connor huffed, and then burst out laughing as well. "He really has forgiven me, I'm sure. We've been getting along quite well in the months you've been gone, especially since I came up with a potion to grow his beard back out. He's even been telling me what a good job I've been doing on my new Ice Storm spell."
"I wondered how that turned out. It's working for you then?"
As they continued talking long into the night, she studied the young man she had known since childhood. He had grown out his dark chestnut hair so that the wind could now just barely ruffle the wavy locks, and firelight danced and glittered in his fiery green eyes, attesting to the half-elven heritage passed down from his full-blooded father. Febrien's eyes slid to his long, sinewy body, lingering on the golden tan acquired from long days spent riding and practicing in the field behind Alaric's modest school. Although he wore the threadbare breeches and a patched, shabby cloak denoting a wizard in training, Febrien surmised he would look just as comfortable in an outfit designed for the rich lords of Luskan or, indeed, Neverwinter herself.
Febrien leaned comfortably against her saddle, listening to the soft murmur of his voice. She didn't notice that the young man was surreptitiously taking her in as well. Connor had missed her terribly the past four months; while his fellow students were good for an intellectual discussion, they were consumed with studying and practicing their magic. Although Connor spent a good deal of time on these pursuits as well, Febrien's adventurous spirit and fun-loving nature provided a frequent and much welcomed interruption.
While Febrien was both friendly and confidant, she was usually a woman of few words, and he was greatly flattered that she was unafraid to open up with him and voice her true feelings. At this moment the dark haired ranger was recounting the story of a little fey dragon she'd found after fighting off a highwayman with a difficult spell Connor had taught her before she left.
"I was sneaking through the woods so I wouldn't attract any more thieves, and she wouldn't stop following me, so eventually I just had to take her in. I think this means I've learned enough to have my own familiar, because I can summon her just like I can Fenris. Did that happen when you met Nox?"
As Febrien continued he felt a wave of elation wash over him. He had never been on the road with her, never accompanied her on one of her famed adventures. Often when she returned home from such a journey, she was road-weary and more eager to sleep than to be off again, but Connor felt excitement surging through him at the prospect of traveling together. Underneath he didn't think she minded being on the road all the time and he suspected she played it down for his benefit, as until now Alaric had forbidden him from accompanying her until he reached a satisfactory level in his training.
The fire died low as their talk slowed and finally dissolved into a comfortable silence. The end of their spiced tea and a loud snore from Fenris' direction convinced Febrien that it was time to turn in. They had stayed up later than intended and dawn was not far off. Connor helped stoke the fire before they pulled their blankets over them and rested their heads on their worn saddles. He fell into sleep with wild thoughts of what the road ahead might bring. His head was filled with visions of daring swordfights and immense courage in the face of danger. Perhaps his thoughts were closer to the truth than even he could guess.