Buffoon... Err, author's note: What happened to Immy after Mira's ascension. Sad, melodramatic and well, bad written ;). Sorry if this is what you expect, it's very rushed. But it's not my fault, it's rather my muse :D Also it's a songfic. And well... there's a slight Neverwinter crossover, if you have played the game and are able to note it. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Character below are Bioware's work and the lyrics from "Nobody's home" are work of Avril Lavigne

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Imoen's eyes darted to the fortress she had in front. Grey stone walls defended a beautiful place. A place of knowlege and wisdom. A place of books and bards. Candlekeep was in front of her.

It was so long before she had been inside its walls. So long... Winthrop. Would he still be alive? Would he remember her? There was only one way of knowing it. She got near the main door. Hull, ah dear drunk Hull, thought Imoen smiling, remembering the time she stole his sword and put it in Puffguts' bed. It was jolly fun... until Miradel discovered it. Her smile faded away as she remembered her sister, tears replacing it.

Then, the guard looked at her with a mix of joy and regret in his eyes "Hi there, fella. I'm glad to see ye. But..." he hesitated "You still need to bring a valious book" he said, no trail of the happiness from before.

Imoen smiled at the old guard "Hiya, I'm glad to see ya too, Hull. 'Bout the book, here y'are." And she handled him a well illustrated book with the picture of a skull at the right and a crying woman at the left. Hull looked at it pleased, and grinned at Imoen "It's fine, lassie, pass and feel the comfort o' Candlekeep" Imoen returned the grin "Have a nice day, Hull." And she entered the fortress.

Entered to an abandoned, yet not forgotten, past.

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Imoen walked gingerly towards the inn. Its door was rather old, with a few holes in it. It seems that someone is lazy today, she smirked to herself. Then she opened the door.

The place was surrounded by the smell of food and wines. The perfume of some nobles was also notable. The inn's wooden walls were also a bit old. Then, near the enter, she saw a man in his late forties, a beard in his chin and a beer in his hand. Puffguts, thought Imoen happily.

She sneaked near him, trying not to be noticed. Then, when Winthrop seemed oblivious about her presence, she lauched herself at him in a bear hug. "Hiya, ol' Puffguts!" she exclaimed cheerfully, causing a scary look from the innkeeper. Then, noticing who was the girl, he smiled.

"So you are back, dear scoundrel. And you still call me 'Puffguts' " he said.

"Whoa, never forget it, PUFFGUTS!" she said, making emphasis in the nickname. Then, she pressed the hug.

Imoen had a look at Winthrop. He looked older than before. His head was completely bald, not like before when he still had some hair in the extreme parts of his head. He looked thinner, also. There was no more plump hips in his body. Imoen supposed that he had decided to have diet after THAT talk.

Then, the thief released Winthrop from her embrace. "Whatcha been doing, Puffguts?" The innkeeper smiled a little, feeling uncomfortable by the question. "Well, you know-" "Nope, I don't" she teased "Don't interrupt me, girl. Well, most of the time I've been here, but I made a journey to Neverwinter, you see. And... I encountered a helmite priest." Sadness was noted in the last sentence.

"What happened with that priest, Puffguts?" she asked curiously. Winthrop looked at her, his gaze being devoid of emotions "Nothing, kid. Nothing." And he walked upstairs.

Imoen knew that there was something, so she followed him.

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She wants to go home

Imoen looked at the door. She tried to open it, but it only made a noise and stood still. Then, she examined the ceiling. Damn, its locked. Then, she grabbed a little stick she had in her pockets and used it as a picklock. Then the door opened. Imoen looked horrified at what she had in her sight. Her world was shattering.

But nobody's home

Winthrop's forehead was covered with sweat. His hand was very injured, almost bleeding. His face was wincing in pain. He was in his deathbed.

It's where she lies, broken inside! With no place to go

Imoen approached at the man. Her grey gaze was wet, demanding an explanation. Then she sat in a near chair from the bed. Her face was already trailed by tears, as she placed her hands in Winthrop's chest.

No place to go, broken inside!

"I'm glad that the gods gave me the opportunity of seeing you again" he whispered, agony being noted in his voice "But I'm afraid that this is a goodbye, scoundrel. Be well in your life, Imoen."

With no place to go, no place to go

"Please, Winthrop" she sobbed, her body shaking in the vain effort of controlling her tears. "Dontcha go, please. I won't have anything please." Winthrop's very eyes were wet too "I... I'm sorry." Then he closed his eyes, face growing still and body becoming limp. He was dead.

It's where she lies, broken inside!

Imoen cried in Winthrop's cold chest. Tears not able to be controlled anymore, sadness needing to go out of her. What could she do now? What?

She's lost inside, lost inside!

The only thing she could come up was crying. No way she could do anything else. Not now.

She's lost inside, lost inside!