General disclaimer: I own nothing, even Maiyn generally decides her own path.
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Difficult Choices
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Despite having ridden through the city by the side of Ajantis and his two companions, Imoen would have been hard pressed to tell anyone about the sights she'd seen. The council buildings, taverns, parks... the large, grand houses... even the slums they'd cantered past had been a blur to her; so intent as she was on reaching her destination as quickly as possible. Ajantis had been happy to ride swiftly, to her relief, and they'd reached the Delryn Estate in no time; where the lone guard had informed them, with a slightly shaky voice, that Anomen was no longer there.
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"Where has he gone?" Ajantis asked strongly. Imoen felt quite bad for the doorman; something, prior to their arrival, had apparently caused him distress, and though Ajantis wasn't being unkind, his forceful manner wasn't giving the man any comfort.
"We just want to help him," she said gently, trying to reassure him. He looked up to her on her horse, his eyes still fairly wide with the surprise over the recent incidents. "If you can tell us where he's gone, we can help him."
"H-he... he didn't say," the man stammered. "B-but... his father, Lord C-cor... his grudge was with a merchant called Saerk, and Lord Anomen... h-he mentioned the name, I'm sure."
Ajantis whirled away at that point, his men following him immediately, their gait now urgent. "Thank you," replied Imoen sincerely, offering the man a quick smile. He shrank back as she turned her own mount, heading after the three knights as they cantered along the city streets. Saerk... she'd heard the name before.
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It was when they'd been aboard Saemon's stolen ship, she reflected. When he'd spoken of the grief he felt over the loss of his sister and explained the cruelty of his father's nature. Lord Cor had apparently been convinced that the man who had benefitted in business from Cor's own drunkenness was also responsible for the death of his youngest child; but Maiyn and their friends had not been so sure.
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"In the end, my heart was torn," Anomen said quietly, his gaze settled out to the sea, somewhere in the distance. "I wished to do what was right -- and I desperately wanted to obtain the approval of my father; something that I'd lost a long time before, and had never hoped to gain back again. But there was no proof..."
"And inside you knew that there was a chance he was speaking out of resentment over a more successful merchant?" Imoen asked.
Anomen smiled wryly. "Perhaps. I... I knew that I would be a fool to blindly trust him, but... Well. Love is a powerful emotion, and despite what he had turned into, part of me could remember my father as the man he once was. The love was still there... the grief brought it to the fore, and it was... hard to ignore. But there was also rationality there." He smiled and looked at Imoen. "There was also your sister and all of her... our, companions."
Imoen grinned back to him. "I think I can imagine at least some of their reactions," she said, a picture of a stern-looking Jaheira firmly embedded in her mind.
Anomen chuckled. "Truly, some of them were quite... vocal, about their opinions," he remarked. "Maiyn was gracious enough to take the time to sit with me and gently make me see the whole picture. And to think -- that day I had wondered if I was truly meant to travel with her..."
Imoen's eyebrows rose. "You were gonna leave them?"
The young knight flushed slightly. "It was... complicated..." he muttered, trying to ignore the girl's inquisitive stare. "The previous evening had given me some reason to rethink my-"
Imoen's eyes widened so much that her eyeballs were in danger of popping from their sockets. "The previous evening?" she interrupted, shifting herself around on the cushioned deck until she was comfortable as Anomen gave her a despairing look. "Okay, you can give me ALL the details now!"
The man groaned. "Really, it is not what you are thinking," he said. "I... I think I would be best not to speak of it, to protect a lady's honour-"
"Oh! Oh really?" Imoen's curiosity was beginning to devour her.
"My lady!" Anomen chided. "You are very much on the wrong track, of that I am sure!" He'd turned bright red by this point -- Imoen thought it was dreadfully cute.
"Then tell me!" she said, with obvious delight at his predicament. He gave her a hurt look.
"You would expect me to sully the honour of a lady who has... who has been a very good friend to me since we met, just to satisfy your curiosity?"
"Well, I'm guessing it's Maiyn you're talkin' about," she grinned. "And I since it's not anything as exciting as I initially thought... I'm sure she wouldn't mind me knowing! I'm her sister!"
"Be that as it may," the knight continued firmly. "I would not feel comfortable speaking on this further-"
"I bet she got horribly drunk," Imoen remarked casually, noting the way he tensed. She clapped her hands together in glee. "She did, didn't she? Oh gosh! I remember when she did that at the Friendly Arms! She couldn't even unlock her own door..."
It was Anomen's turn to look intrigued. "She does it... often?"
The girl shook her head. "Well, no -- that's the only time I've really seen her completely intoxicated." She threw Anomen a careful look. "You've got no need to worry, you know. She's not like..."
"No," he replied with a soft sigh, finishing Imoen's sentence for her. "She's nothing like my father."
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She'd barely known him at that point, having shared his company only a few days. But despite that, they spoke freely, completely comfortable in each other's presence, even when he learnt of her more dubious skills. And in turn, she learnt quickly that not all paladins were stuffy, old men -- sure, Anomen could sometimes be quite... formal, but he'd managed to show his carefully guarded adventurous streak when he'd devised the plan to try and take over the githyanki ship. And she'd been pleasantly surprised. It had, of course, meant they'd been captured by sahuagin, but those were the breaks.
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"I must admit, I am not sure about this course," Anomen mumbled quietly. He was standing beside a small waterfall -- it would have been quite pretty to Imoen's eyes, had it not been located in the bowels of the City of Caverns.
"What do you suggest we do?" she asked him, moving herself over to stand by his side. He'd been quiet since they left the drow part of the complex, her joking with the Spectator having obviously bruised his ego somewhat, despite his denials.
His hands clenched as they rested on the wall that lined the platform, and she could see that it was taking him some effort to control himself. "They are evil creatures. I do not think they deserve our aid in their survival."
"I agree."
He turned to look at her with a puzzled expression. "You have agreed to-"
"I have agreed to do whatever they want so we have the freedom to move around and figure out our own plan," she countered. "We can't take on the whole population of them, not when there's just you and me -- not even with all our equipment. We have to think of something and explore all opportunities."
"And you wish to visit this... exile, and talk to him?"
She shrugged. "I don't see what harm it would do, and it would let us scope out his side of the cavern. There might be a way to escape there -- after all, King Ixi-thingie said we could go to the Underdark from here -- so there has to be a way somewhere, and I haven't seen it yet -- have you?"
Anomen sighed and his shoulders slumped slightly. "No," he admitted.
Imoen gently reached out for his hand, relieved when he didn't resist her taking his into her own and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Then we can have a look around and decide what we need to do," she said, her voice hushed. "I don't want to help them any more than you do, but I don't really want to be their next feast, either."
The knight nodded, offering a weak smile as he moved slowly away from the wall. "Then, we shall head to the exiles, shall we?"
"Might as well," she smiled, letting his hand go as she wandered ahead. "Sometimes you can find a suitable solution in the least likely place!"
"Imoen?"
She paused, looking back to him. He was giving her another puzzled look and he fidgeted before he managed to speak. "The cloak..." He cleared his throat. "I mean, why did you want to keep my cloak instead of taking the magical one?"
She grinned back to him. "Didn't you hear the beholder? Because it's yours, silly." She almost laughed at his genuinely lost expression.
"I... I don't think I understand..."
"Sure ya do! Look -- this cloak is pretty an' useful an' all, but... well, you gave yours to me when I didn't have much else, and we'd not even really been introduced. And that meant a lot, you know? It meant more... well, more than finding something in a dusty chest."
"I... I see." He nodded slowly, walking over to be by her side again. Gently, he took her hand back in his and offered a warm smile, which she was only too happy to return. Then, together, they walked on, back into the passages of the cavern.
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She smiled slightly as she remembered how their relationship had grown closer, without either of them actually doing anything much to prevent or encourage it. Being forced to be allies in order to survive was a tactic she considered using in any books she would one day write, especially any which tackled the feared relationships game! Mind you... that was almost like admitting to herself that she was in a relationship... which she wasn't entirely sure was true. It was like... there was something there, but it was unspoken, unmentioned. Almost as if it was forbidden or best not to think about -- which of course was ridiculous, because they were both adults. She shook her head slightly -- no, it was probably because they'd been so busy learning about each other in the past tense, that they'd neglected, rather, to acknowledge anything that might... possibly... have been developing. She bit her lip.
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"You want us to jump?"
Imoen looked over her shoulder nervously to make sure they were alone, then shook her head at the worried looking knight. "No, silly! Look!" With barely concealed pride, she showed him the rope she'd managed to remove from the sahuagin Prince's belt without him even realising. "But we have to be quick -- they'll soon realise we're not actually following them..."
Anomen nodded, taking one of the ends of the rope and tying it securely to a nearby column. He tested the knot a few times, then, seemingly satisfied, nodded to the girl grimly.
"After you," she grinned.
"I thin-"
"No time to think!" she exclaimed, almost pushing him into the hole before he could get a proper grip on the cord. "I'll be right behind you!"
She could hear him muttering as he began his descent -- slowly at first, then picking up considerable speed. When she was sure she wouldn't get in his way, she clambered down too, holding onto the rope for dear life as it swung from side to side.
"Are you all right?" came his concerned voice, from somewhere in the darkness below her.
"Yep! Doin' just fine!" she lied, slowly inching her way down. She'd not got far when she heard the sound of voices getting louder and louder. Inwardly she cursed.
"Any sign of the bottom?"
"Not yet. Why?"
"Oh, nothing important! Fish-people might be coming back, but you know..." She picked up her speed slightly, trying to catch up with her companion, but her rope-climbing skills were not all they could be. The cord slipped in her grasp, burning her palms dreadfully as she shrieked and plummeted down into the depths -- straight into Anomen, who somehow managed to grab her and cling on, despite the force of her landing.
"Wow, you really do live up to being a knight in shining armour," she remarked weakly. She couldn't see his expression, but she knew he'd either be grimacing or grinning. She didn't have time to wonder which it was, as she desperately reached out to grab onto the rope herself again, trying to ignore the pain in her hands. The voices above them were hissing furiously, and Anomen wasted no time in looping his arm around her, regaining his footing and grip on the rope, and then allowing them to descend with a modicum of control.
Within moments the rope jerked dangerously. "They're cutting it," he noted through clenched teeth -- Imoen could only imagine the exertion he was under. Quietly she murmured a spell, allowing a haste cantrip to take effect on them both as the knight continued to try his best to see them to the ground safely. She wondered if the rope would be long enough -- it hadn't looked like much when she'd discretely taken it from Villynaty's belt, but it had glowed with a slight hint of magic as they'd began to unravel it, becoming far longer than it initially had been.
She gulped slightly, realising how far they may have to fall. And then it came -- the rope seemed to disappear into nothing, and they were tumbling down through the darkness, caught in each others arms. The ground met them before either had realised what was happening, and Anomen grunted heavily as she landed on top of him. With a horrified shriek, she clambered off, her pack slipping from her back in her haste.
"Gosh! I'm so sorry Anomen! Are you all right?" She grabbed a few leaves from one of her pockets and murmured the words to another conjuration, bringing a faint torch into existence beside them. The knight was lying on his back, his eyes closed, and his hands covering a part of his chest. She was about to speak when she noticed his lips moving in silent prayer.
Sure enough, a faint white glow soon surged from his fingers and covered his ribs. She'd seen other clerics do it often before, but she felt enormous guilt -- he'd healed the exact spot that she'd landed on. He seemed to notice her concerned look and offered a weak smile, rolling onto his side slowly as he checked himself over for any other sign of injury.
"I am fine," he eventually announced. "And you? Your landing was..."
She grinned. "Softer than the ground, that's for sure," she said. "Sorry about that."
"Not at all," he assured her, standing up slowly as he looked around at the dark cave around them. When he looked back at her, there was a trace of amusement in his eyes. "After all, it's what any knight in shining armour would have done, is it not?"
She chuckled. "I don't know. Most paladins that came past Candlekeep were old and stuffy," she noted, bending down to pick up her bag. She winced as her palms burned with the contact, and the priest was immediately by her side, holding her wrists as he examined her injuries.
"It's fine," she said, trying to wriggle her hands free. His grasp was tight -- firm, but still gentle, and he was giving her a look of genuine worry.
"You would not have told me?" He seemed hurt.
"It's nothing," she shrugged. "We're in the Underdark -- I don't want you wasting a valuable spell on me-"
"It is not wasting," he muttered quietly, closing his eyes. The familiar sound of his prayers soon surrounded her, and only a few moments later, her hands were feeling decidedly better.
"Thanks," she said, somewhat abashedly. He was still holding her wrists, and they had ended up standing very close together. His face was barely a foot away from her own, and she could feel his breath...
Imoen! She was shocked at herself, but somehow, her hands resisted her initial thoughts of pulling them free. Instead, she stood there, slightly dumbstruck for a while, then picked her gaze up from her palms and looked into the large brown eyes that were smiling down at her.
Then, suddenly, he'd freed her; and was stepping back, clearing his throat and looking nervous. She idly scratched her arm, looking around at the two paths into the gloom, trying to think of anything that would take her mind off what she'd just felt.
Because she could hardly believe it, but she would have sworn... that her heart had skipped a beat.
She felt her cheeks turning bright red at her internal admission.
For the love of Mystra, Imoen! she chided herself. You're not a teenager!
Garrick had never made her feel like that. Sure, she'd been flattered by his attention and enjoyed his company while it lasted, but... no. She'd definitely, absolutely, decidedly, unquestionably, undoubtedly never felt like-
"Ah, ehm. Hmm."
He was looking highly flustered and was carefully avoiding her gaze. She wondered if appeared that was as well, mentally noting how she was standing, and the way she was still scratching at her arm. Any more of that, and he'd have to waste another healing spell on her...
"Soooo." she agreed.
"Yes." He nodded, then plucked up the courage to look over at her. Quickly she diverted her own eyes. Imoen! Slowly she looked back at him.
"I... I think..."
She shook her head to stop him, and clumsily started to move towards him. When she was close enough, she let out a deep breath. Act nice and relaxed, now, her helpful instinct told her. She nodded slightly and smiled up to him, leaning over to the side to incline against the wall.
Except the wall was further away than it had appeared and she found herself being helped back to her feet by him. Once again, she was dangerously close, but this time he wasn't darting away. Once again, their eyes met.
Her heart was beating more rapidly than she could ever remember, but all she could think, was, 'Drat! Why here? Why the Underdark of all places!' She was quite pleased to notice that Anomen didn't seem to have such reservations, as his head moved slowly closer and closer.
And then they heard the voices and the footsteps.
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To her right, Ajantis shifted in his saddle and grumbled something about the length of the wait. They were in a rather grand looking courtyard -- though her mind had barely been on her surroundings for the entire trip through the streets of Athkatla, she had managed to notice the house where the young knight had grown up. It'd appeared to be one of the smallest in the district, though this was just an observation and not a judgement. The state of disrepair, however, had dismayed her; she wondered how Anomen must have felt to see his home -- the one he'd spoken of so fondly before -- being run into ruin. It had been nothing like the majesty she was now faced with.
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"It was always a warm and loving home. My father employed a housekeeper called Hester when Moira was born, and she got along famously with my mother." Anomen was smiling wistfully as he stared into the distance, surrounded by memories only he could see. Imoen sat quietly, listening to him as the fire crackled softly before them, providing a little light in Adalon's cave.
"There was always a pleasant aroma wafting from the kitchen. More often than not, it would be ginger or cinnamon -- Mistress Hester was a talented cook as well as keeper, and she trained Elspeth, a young girl we had in our employ as parlour maid, most of her secrets. When my mother died and my father's estate began to fail, Elspeth secured employment in another noble house as their cook. I was glad to hear that she was living comfortably when I last enquired to her health."
"What about Hester?" Imoen asked.
"Hester left only a few months after my mother died," replied the knight quietly. "One by one the servants and guards had to leave, as there were no funds to pay their wages. She did not want to go; she couldn't bear to leave Moira in the house alone, and I admit, I did not want her to go. Knowing she was there made my decision to join the Order somewhat easier -- though she could not always protect my sister, she was there for her more than I could be. Unfortunately, her new position took her away from the city -- away from Amn, indeed; and though she wrote to my sister often for many months, Lord Cor found Moira writing back to her one day -- and the correspondence ceased."
"Why?"
"It was demeaning for the daughter of a nobleman to write to a former servant in his eyes," sighed Anomen. "And what makes it worse... is that sometimes I think I would have agreed with him, if things had been different. Though now... now I am not so sure, and I try not to judge so harshly." He gave a small sigh and a rueful smile. "I'm not always successful."
"Oh, I dunno," she shrugged, giving him a slightly playful look. "I think you're very accepting. I mean, look at you with the Spectator, and all those sahuagin..."
The knight glared over to her as she grinned, and wrapped her arms around his own, resting her head on his shoulder. "Tell me more about your home," she murmured contentedly, trying to ignore Minsc's snores from the other side of the cave.
"I don't know what else to tell you," he admitted. "What was once a comfortable, warm and loving house... well, it changed. When my mother died, it became emptier as father let go of people. That in turn led to it becoming more and more run down -- Lord Cor was too deep in his cups to see the decay around him, and Moira could not afford to hire anyone to fix much of the disrepair. When I had a chance to visit him, I would try to help the remaining men into fixing the fences, repairing the walls -- anything that would make it easier for my sister to live in. But, of course, it was not the surroundings that were slowly eating away at her soul. It was our father."
Imoen squeezed his arm, showing her presence and support. Gently he disentangled himself, putting his arm around her shoulder instead and allowing her to move closer to him as they shared their silence beside the fire. Imoen was not at all surprised by the move -- unspoken as it was, their closeness did nothing but grow, though they'd taken no steps to signify any formal beginning of a courtship. Which is probably for the best, she thought to herself, somewhat sadly. Their current situation was not the best time for either of them to be distracted from their tasks, and they still hardly knew each other.
But, of all the people that she'd ever met, excluding Maiyn; Imoen felt like she knew no one better than she knew her young knight.
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Eventually a man appeared, tall and quite haughty in appearance. His clothing marked him as one of the household's menservants, but the fabric that had tailored his clothing was of a higher quality than many of the citizens Imoen had seen from the windows of the Order's Headquarters. He gave them a carefully measured look of disdain, and then sniffed slightly.
"My Lord Saerk wishes to inform you that Sir Anomen Delryn, son of the late Lord Cor Delryn, is not within this estate, and shall not be invited to visit the esteemed family at any time in the near future."
Ajantis sighed heavily. "Shall Lord Saerk not come to speak to us himself?" he asked.
The man sneered slightly. "Lord Saerk is a highly busy man, as I am sure you understand."
"And these are highly busy paladins, as I'm sure you understand," said Imoen with a hint of annoyance. The man merely gave her a dismissive look.
"As I said-"
A scream interrupted the flow of his affected voice, and several guards darted from their positions beside the door, heading inside. Ajantis leapt from his mount, calling for the others to follow him as he pushed his way past the butler and ran inside. Imoen was close behind them -- the cry had been that of a woman, and despite the servant's claim, she had a hunch that Anomen wasn't far away. Her heart felt frozen with fear as a thousand different possibilities rushed through her mind, and she tore after the paladins, down a long hall, and then up a magnificent staircase that led to a wide landing.
"This way," Ajantis announced, after only a moments hesitation. He flew down a thickly carpeted corridor, then through a set of magnificent oaken doors that had already been flung open. Inside were several of the house guards, and an older man that Imoen could only assume was Saerk. Flanking him were two men who bore uncanny resemblances; his sons. She looked around desperately for the source of the distress, and her heart sank -- at the far side of the room was a thin girl, no older than she herself had been when she left Candlekeep; looking frightened, trembling and crying.
Standing before her was a tall man, mace in hand, eyes ablaze with rage as he ignored the frenzy around him. Slowly his weapon hand was rising as his gaze remained intently fixed upon the girl kneeling before him, pleading for her life.
No… no! Imoen pushed her way past the horrified knights, making her way to the centre of the room. "Anomen!" she shouted, stumbling further ahead. "ANOMEN!"
It was enough -- he stopped; the anger in his eyes seemed to dull, his expression softened. He turned and looked over to her, seemingly oblivious to everyone else present.
"I-Imoen?"