General disclaimer: I own nothing, even Maiyn generally decides her own path. A lot of small-talk dialogue borrowed from the npc banterpack for BG1 :)
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Changes in Manner
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There was a heavy mist the next day, and Jaheira and Khalid took a trip outside the inn grounds to hunt for herbs to replenish their supplies. Coran and Maiyn also left the palisade, seeking some privacy outdoors for a while, despite the rather harsh weather.
They walked hand in hand under the trees in a comfortable silence; Maiyn huddled into her cloak for warmth from the chill. Coran looked over to her and smiled, then stopped suddenly, turning her to face him. They were both soaked from the moisture in the air, just as the trees and ground were, glistening in the daylight. There was no mistaking his mischievous grin.
"Let me teach you to hide in the mist..." he said, motioning for her to remain absolutely still. He backed away a few steps and did likewise. "The secret is to stand very still."
Maiyn could barely stop herself from trembling with cold, but as they stood in the silence she could hear the faint noise of the drizzling rain that had begun. A small rivulet of water descended from Coran's high brow, down his cheek, and he caught it with a quick motion of his tongue.
"We are hidden from everyone's eyes," he whispered to her.
Maiyn lifted her face and closed her eyes. She could feel the drops landing on her face, running down her neck and in beyond her tunic and armour. She couldn't fight the trembling any longer though; she looked back to the fighter, and approached him softly, smiling at his lingering gaze on her.
"Warm me up..." she mouthed silently to him, allowing him to pull her so she was pressed close against his body, his hands cupping her face as he kissed her gently. A feeling of warmth seemed to ignite within her at his touch, warming her up, helping her to forget about the rain that was now falling quite heavily on them. They were lost in their own world.
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The two elves huddled close to the fire when they got back, eating with the others as had become customary for the companions. Maiyn looked to Xan, and could see he was looking particularly sad. She was about to ask him what was wrong when Minsc's voice sounded above her.
"Boo says you look sad Xan."
"You're rather unusual for a warrior, Minsc..." remarked Xan.
"How so, little elf?"
"Most warriors don't have... ahem... rodents as pets," noted the enchanter.
"Boo is not a rodent," stated Minsc confidently. "He is a Miniature Giant Space Hamster! And he is my animal companion, he advises me on many things."
"It... advises you?" asked Xan. "Tell me, what is it advising you now?"
"He says that you are a source of great sadness..." replied Minsc seriously. "Why are you sad?"
"I'm fine... really," replied Xan quickly.
"What's that, Boo? Ah, yes, good idea indeed!" beamed the berserker. "Boo says that you should give him a hug. That always cheers me up!"
"I'm not hugging a hamster..." said Xan, recoiling in horror.
"Miniature Giant Space Hamster!" corrected Minsc.
"Whatever," sighed Xan.
"Friend Xan," said Minsc strongly. "Do you trust Minsc?"
"What?" asked Xan, puzzled. "Why would you ask such a thing?"
"Please, just answer Minsc."
"Well... you're not so bad, for a human," shrugged the enchanter. "Too bad you'll end up as a casualty of our hopeless cause, which, as I pointed out before, has every chance to..."
"Yes, yes," hushed Minsc. "Please give Minsc your hand, and close your eyes."
"Minsc, what's come over you?" asked Xan, looking panicked. "Let go of me!" Minsc had taken Xan's arm firmly.
"Please, no peeking." Minsc was being serious.
"Very well," sighed Xan. "But you should know you behaviour starts to worry me more each day. Perhaps you should..."
"Here," proclaimed Minsc, letting his rodent scamper onto Xan's outstretched hand. "Feel the furry bundle of goodness that is Boo, and let his hamster fuzziness clear away your troubles. Smile, little wizard, for no troubles can resist the soothing touch of a hamster!"
"What!" the elf shrieked. "Let me go, you deceiver, let me go!"
"Boo, your powers seem to have been too much for the little elf," said Minsc dismayed, collecting Boo from the table, where he had been dropped. "Look, how he dances around, after you have freed his mind of worries!"
"What were you doing?" Xan was almost shouting. "Are you trying to kill me? Corellon, have pity on me! Please, don't let me catch the plague!"
"Oh, no need to thank Minsc," beamed the ranger. "Boo was the one that brought you such joy."
"Joy! You call this joy!" Xan tried to keep his voice under control. "Have you any idea what diseases I might get from touching that rodent! Oh, Corellon, I need to wash my hands! They're starting to itch! Aaah... aaah... aaaah-choo!" The enchanter darted to the stairs and bolted up to his room.
"Yes Boo," said Minsc, nodding to the hamster. "He seems livelier than ever. He turned red from excitement, and his whole body seemed to puff with merriment. Oh, you'll get some extra nuts tonight, mister... You certainly deserve them."
Imoen had been giggling madly at the scene, while Dynaheir and Jaheira tried to explain to Minsc that it perhaps wasn't so much 'joy' as 'allergy' that caused Xan's rather energetic reaction. Maiyn pecked Coran quickly on the cheek, promising she'd meet him in her room when he was ready, and then excused herself.
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She went up and knocked on Xan's door. There was no answer, but she could hear him thumping about, and so she knocked again, more insistently. He scowled as he answered, but the frown faded when he noticed Maiyn.
"Ah... come in," he said, looking up and down the corridor. Who is he expecting to see? wondered Maiyn, but she really knew the answer; Coran. The enchanter had changed as Coran remained in the party, and she was beginning to wonder if Imoen had been right about his feelings.
"Are you okay?" she asked as she entered his room. Despite having slept in it for a couple of nights, everything was still painstakingly neat within.
"I will be fine," he said, scratching his hand absent-mindedly. There was a rash covering it that wasn't being helped any by his constant clawing.
"Here, let me," she said firmly, taking his hand and uttering a spell over it.
"Maiyn, I already asked you to no... wait! You used a healing miracle as a cleric would." Xan regarded her with surprise as she nodded. "You never mentioned these before."
She sat down on his bed and recounted the tale of her healing from the mine with him, including the dream, and all the way up to her discussion with Khalid and Jaheira. Xan nodded several times during the recount, and looked relieved when she finished.
"Well, it maybe means you shall have no need to use those other powers now," he said thoughtfully. "I take it you are pleased with the development?"
Maiyn hadn't really thought about it, but she realised she was. "I am," she said softly. "It feels... right."
Xan nodded, and looked to the floor. "As does your relationship with Coran?"
Maiyn tensed slightly. She wasn't how her relationship with the fighter came into it, but Xan was her friend and she knew she had no reason to feel so defensive. "It does."
"He is much older than you."
"I know, but we get along well, and he seems to care about me a lot."
"Maiyn, there are more people than Coran who care about you..." Xan began, and then stopped abruptly. They could hear voices from the corridor as others came upstairs, heading for bed. One of them was Coran. Xan stood, and ushered the ranger to the door, wishing her good luck for her relationship and a good night.
She tried to reply to him, but he closed the door firmly when she was outside his room, and she sighed, turning to meet Coran. He raised a quizzical eyebrow at her. "I was ensuring he was okay after Boo's attack," she explained. "His hand was developing a nasty rash, so it was a good chance to use my new skills I guess." She shrugged. "Come, let's go to our room."
Coran nodded, and followed her, but gazed back to Xan's door. It wasn't that he felt jealous about her friendships with Xan and Kivan, but he was painfully aware that the enchanter at least, had shown an interest in her before he'd came along - and Kivan likely would too, if he got over his dead wife.
Coran shook his head. Stop being so stupid! Didn't she just say 'our' room! His familiar smile was back on his face as the door to their room shut behind them.
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Maiyn tried to get a few moments alone with Xan the next day, but the enchanter was skilled at avoidance, and she failed miserably at her task. Whenever he seemed to distance himself from the group, Coran would appear by her side, and she would be delightfully distracted just long enough for him to get back to the safety of another companion. Maiyn found herself quite frustrated by the time evening fell, knowing her chance was unlikely to come any time soon as she and Coran joined the others. Xan was looking around himself darkly, and she could tell he was in no mood for the company.
"Around you I almost feel that we have a chance, mellonamin Kivan," said Xan, breaking the silence.
"I value your companionship, as well," replied the ranger. "May the wind be ever warm on your face."
"Still, I cannot help but think that your prowess is that of a desperate," continued Xan. "You woo death in the same way another man might court a fair maiden."
"You are mistaken, Xan," said Kivan, shaking his head. "While I do not avert my eyes in the face of death, I do not run toward it either. I made a solemn promise to avenge my wife, and I want to die knowing that I fulfilled my vow."
"Then maybe you will live a while yet," sighed Xan. "The irony of gods is such that they will keep you safely through the Nine Hells themselves only to see you fail in the end and have a good laugh."
"You are forgetting one thing, Xan," said Kivan softly. "Shevarash never laughs." The ranger left the group, heading outside the inn for air.
"I don't want to offend you by p-prying, Xan..." said Khalid, eying the enchanter with concern.
"But you intend to do so, nevertheless," interrupted Xan. "Proceed, then, if you cannot restrain yourself."
"If you b-believe that nothing that c-can be done has any value, how can you take part in such a d-dangerous mission as ours is?"
"I'm not dead yet." The enchanter's answer was simple.
"I b-beg your pardon?" asked Khalid.
"You heard me," said Xan calmly. "To my astonishment, this 'mission', as you call it, has not killed me. Therefore, I continue as I began it: to alleviate by pain and terror the more insufferable agonies of tedium."
"I can't believe that this is the whole of your t-tale, Xan," said Khalid disbelievingly.
"You could," sighed Xan, "if you were cursed with a true perspective upon our wretched affairs."
"Xan," said Dynaheir, having overheard the exchange, "while I must commend thee on thine arcane skills, thy constant doom saying is quite detrimental to the group's morale."
"'Doom saying'?" Xan arched an eyebrow. "Realism is what it is. Would you rather have me prance around in suicidal merriment, like your bodyguard does, while the tangled web of our many enemies tightens around us?"
Dynaheir frowned. "Minsc is... Minsc. Insult him not, for he is my faithful companion and wise in his own way. And thou hast not answered my question. Why is even the brightest day filled with such shadow for thee?"
"You may consider our leader's selflessly heroic streak admirable, witch," retorted the elf, "but I do not. Tempting death at every opportunity she gets will only hasten our downfall."
Maiyn frowned at this assessment of her actions, but her scowl soon turned to a look of hurt, which Xan noticed.
"Tis admirable, yes, for some causes are indeed worth the risk," noted the Rashemeni. "Surely thou canst not deny that we have fared quite well so far - due no doubt to caution, but also to skill and wits, including thine own. Take pride in them and in our accomplishments instead of mocking them like thou dost now."
Xan merely sighed, and Yeslick snorted. The enchanter turned to regard the dwarf.
"Yeslick, all things are doomed, and it's the only truth to be had in this world," said Xan. "That we will fail is inevitable. Surely any sane, rational being can see how impossible the odds and colossal the-"
"Will ye stop witterin' on!" exclaimed the dwarf testily. "Ye've been at it fer hours now! 'All things are doomed', bah! Are ye jus' gonna whine all day - again - or are ye ever gonna do anythin' 'bout it?"
"Unlike those of empty head and unstable temperament I merely accept the fate that awaits us," Xan replied sourly. "Nothing you or I do can change it."
"There's not a drop of righteous anger in ye, elf?" asked Yeslick incredulously. "Twaddle! Ye came ta this part of the world, bearin' ye flamin' sword - why'd ye fight at all, then, if this is just a fool's errand, eh? Eh?"
"Not an errand of the foolish, Yeslick," replied the enchanter with a small scowl. "An errand of the doomed." He sighed loudly. "Though I suppose in your case there's little difference."
"From you, it's always 'indignation'," vented the dwarf. "It's the poor man's anger, no good ta any'un! Clangeddin's beard, Xan, I don't understand ye at all!"
"That's obvious and to be expected," replied Xan rather haughtily. "Feel free to bluster and preach your God's hellfire, but don't mistake me for one who is listening to it."
"Just stop harpin' on about impendin' death!" yelled Yeslick. "Just 'cause they have the advantage doesn't mean we're gonna lose! We just have ta fight our hardest!"
"You truly believe mere effort is going to save us?" Xan looked at the dwarf with dismay. "What a terribly flawed statement, but it does explain a lot. What, in all sooth, does this ill-matched group have going for it, besides hot air?"
"Well... well, we've the numbers on our side!" retorted Yeslick. "Ten o' us, one o' this Sarevok!"
"That's an advantage, is it?" replied the enchanter dryly. "Well, by your skewed logic that means we're sure to lose."
"That - that isn't what I mean!" bustled the cleric. "After all, with him bein' a vicious warrior, n' all, an' especially if he has some mates ta back him up-"
"-we're sure to lose." Xan finished for him.
"Will ye shut yer doom sayin' fer just a minute, if it pleases ye, Xan?" said Yeslick hotly. "We're goin' up against a great evil an'-"
"-we're sure to lose?"
"WE'LL WIN," roared the dwarf, "''cause we've got right in our corner, aye? Evil canna win against the faithful an' true-"
"Surely that can only mean a clash between evil would go on indefinitely until an obliging champion, drunk on morality and notions of honour, steps up and finishes them both off." Xan snorted. "Folly, Yeslick."
"Obtuse elf! There be lesser an' greater evils-"
"-and you said we're fighting against a greater one?" Xan proclaimed triumphantly. "We are sure to lose!"
"Oh, fer cryin' out loud!" shouted the cleric. "That's it, I give up."
"A perfectly sensible course of action given the odds," observed Xan.
"No, that's not what I... Agh!" Yeslick got up and stomped off upstairs. "Clangeddin give me strength!"
Xan stood too, wishing everyone a curt goodnight as he briskly left the common room. Maiyn watched him go, worried about his actions. He wasn't being himself - the gloominess was to be expected, but the arguing with his companions was new. It just wasn't like the Xan they'd all got used to.
