Disclaimer: I do not own 'Shadows of Amn', the 'Forgotten Realms' or any characters therein. Wizards of the Coast do, at my last check. Lucky them.
I do, however, own Fritha and certain other characters and plot points. Basically, if you don't recognise it from the game, it's probably mine.

– Blackcross & Taylor

Sune's favour

They finally left the house as the bells struck four and there the group parted, Aegisfield and his men heading north to make a full report to his superior at the Council Buildings, while the women went south back to the slums.

Fritha sighed, feeling very tired and faintly sick, though glad as well; glad that they had stayed and seen it through to the end.
It had been hard. The search had turned up two more coats and a cloak all of the same pale leather, though little else of note and they still had no clue as to why Rejiek had been performing such atrocities, or for whom. But in spite of this, she had left the house with a sense of completeness, that her part in the chapter could be closed now; not forgotten, but not to be dwelled upon as a matter unfinished either.

Speaking of matters unfinished, she really should start applying such wisdom to other aspects of her life as well, Fritha considered, her thoughts turning to the bard as they so often did when unoccupied. She did like Haer'Dalis and she should not be so reticent about it. Life, as she unfortunately seemed to be reminded on a daily basis, was short, and surely it was time to make her feelings a little clearer, rather than all this hanging back twisting her sleeves.

Fritha drew a measured breath as the sick feeling surged again in her stomach though for a different reason this time, the druid obviously unaware of the difference as she glanced to her, concern evident.
'Are you still feeling queasy?'

Fritha shrugged.
'A bit. To be honest, all I want to do now is get back to the inn, change my clothes and spend the evening with you and the others in the tavern.'

Jaheira nodded her approval.
'Yes, it would be best not to dwell upon things. Ah, here we are.'

Fritha glanced up as they rounded the corner, the inn halfway down the street and she felt her spirits rise a little. Perhaps Haer'Dalis would already be there and after her wash, they could sit together and maybe talk some more about music. She had dug out her score of Walk of the Magi the night before and was looking forward to hearing his opinion on the piece. She smiled at the thought, nodding politely to the guard as they approached the tavern door, Fritha pushing it open and there she stopped.

Some may have thought that the murder of her father, becoming the target of bounty hunters and being tortured by an insane mage would have brought her to the conclusion earlier. But it was only then, as she stood in the doorway watching Aerie, the elf in robes of deep saffron and already seated at a script strewn table with the bard, her hair combed out and spilling like spun gold over her shoulders, that the realisation dawned on Fritha.
Life was cruel.

She sighed tiredly, her previous resolve to be more open with the bard little more than a memory as she watched the pair talking excitedly, heads leaned in close, while Nalia sat opposite them with a bored look.

'Fritha! What is-?' came the druid behind her, clearly questioning the delay until she noticed them too. 'Oh, I see.'

Jaheira sent her a shrewd look, but Fritha said nothing and the woman finally sighed to continue, 'I am going down to the bathhouse. Are you coming?'

Fritha shook her head.
'No, I think I need a drink first.'

Jaheira frowned but nodded once, giving her shoulder a firm squeeze before heading off towards the stairs and Fritha trudged over to the table, the three glancing up with clear shock at her appearance, Nalia on her feet before she could draw breath.
'Gods, Fritha! What has happened to you?'

'We found the murderer.' Fritha shook her head darkly. 'It wasn't pretty.'

'Here,' Nalia continued firmly, pushing her own chair towards the girl while Aerie hurriedly tidied away their scripts and poured her some wine. Fritha sat heavily, nodding her thanks as she downed the cup in one, Nalia still fussing at her arm.

'Dearest, you look positively faint! Would you like something stronger?'

'I- I've a herbal draft that might help…' added Aerie with a worried frown, hand already halfway to her bag.

'No, no, this is fine,' Fritha sighed, giving them a wan smile as she reached for the bottle to refill her cup. 'Come sit back down, Nalia. Honestly, I'm fine. How went your delivery?'

Nalia sighed, but sat as she was asked.
'Fine, fine. Can you believe poor Minsc carried a shrine idol all the way from the promenade to the government district, only for the noble there to tell us he needed the thing re-delivered to the temple of the Lathander back in the south of the city. Here,' Nalia smiled, brightening slightly as she passed her a large purse heavy with coins, 'our payment. I charged him a small fortune for the inconvenience.'

Fritha smiled, the girl's expression as heartening as the gold.
'Nalia, that's wonderful, thank you. So is Minsc back here with you now?'

The girl shook her head.
'No, the temple asked him to stay there and help them set up the shrine. It was heavy work and he was willing, though I would have thought he'd be back by now,' she considered with a slight frown, glancing to the door as though hoping he would walk through it at that moment and Fritha turned back to her wine, taking another sip as Haer'Dalis spoke up.

'So, my raven,' he began, leaning back in his chair with an interested look, 'what is the chant with your mad murderer? Did the promenade provide the answers you sought?'

Nalia and Aerie both looked rather cross he had asked her, but just Fritha shrugged.

'Yes, in that the berries smelt of tannin and we'd already found leather on the last victim. We visited the tanner on the bridge and though our evidence was tenuous to begin with, once we found his cellar was full of skinned bodies I must admit to feeling pretty sure he was our man.'

The girls looked horrified, though Haer'Dalis remained silent, gaze dark and contemplative as he watched her.

'Disturbing,' he said finally, though he did not sound too concerned, 'he was clearly touched by something dark.' He sent another thoughtful glance to her. 'And our raven returns from it all unscathed, of course.'

Fritha opened her mouth, about to agree, to lie and shrug the whole thing off as she usually did when she stopped, suddenly realising that there was very little hope of deepening her relations with the man if she insisted on keeping everyone at arm's length. She drew a deep breath.

'Actually, no, not really,' she said finally, the bard looking mildly surprised by the admission, though not pitying or contemptuous and she felt slightly reassured.

'But, I'll be okay,' she added with an absent shrug, taking another drink as she continued. 'The murderer's dead and bodies really were the least of what we found anyway.'

'What do you mean?' asked Nalia, looking alarmed.

'He-' Fritha swallowed as her stomach began to churn fiercely. 'Well, he was tanning the skin he had taken and making things from it.'

'By Baervar!' cried Aerie, the colour draining from her cheeks, Nalia looking little better for this revelation. 'Gods, how awful!'

Haer'Dalis looked shocked as well, though much less horrified, his eyes lit with a dark fascination.
'Things? Such as?'

Fritha swallowed again, the words sticking in her throat, though she forced herself to continue.

'Well, clothes, he- he was making clothes, but for the amount of skin he must have taken, they did not account for all of it, so who knows what else he could have been making. He had special tools for working it all, knives and the like, separate from the ones in his workshop and-'

'Oh, please, don't go on, I can't bear it!' cried Aerie suddenly, Fritha glancing up sharply to find the elf white and tearful.

'Aerie, what is wrong?' came the bard, turning to her with a concerned look, the girl shaking her head and Fritha felt quite sorry for her, the elf's reluctance to explain further evident.

'I, well,' Aerie continued tremulously, eyes dropping to her cup, 'all the talk of knives and, well… it just reminded me of when they had to,' she faltered, her voice dropping to barely a whisper, 'r-remove my wings.'

Next to her, Nalia choked on her drink as she simultaneously tried to swallow and gasp and Fritha felt her jaw drop; she never thought Aerie would actually tell him. Aerie was either oblivious or ignoring them though, her gaze still fixed on her cup, while Haer'Dalis just looked painfully confused.
'Your wings?'

Fritha watched Aerie flush, almost looking as though she regretted her admission, though there really was nothing to be done now and she seemed to realise it too, her voice coming tentative and quiet.
'Y-Yes, I am an avariel, a-a winged-elf, though I was captured as a slave some years ago and my- my wings were lost to disease.'

'Aerie,' he breathed, looking genuinely horrified, 'I- I had no idea. And all this time I called you dove and, well…'

Haer'Dalis trailed off with the same stricken look he'd worn when he'd thought the troupe were dead and Fritha felt a strange emptiness wash over her. She stood, her voice sounding strange in her ears.
'I should go and change.'

Haer'Dalis glanced up as though to speak, but she had already turned to leave the table, Nalia rising an instant later and managing to catch her arm at the foot of the stairs, the girls concealed in the flurry of patrons coming down for dinner.

'Fritha, dearest, oh, confound her!' the girl cried, the words coming jumbled and rushed in her outrage, 'what in Ao's name is Aerie doing bringing that up, of all things. The only reason she told us was because she was overcome in my cellar!'

Fritha shrugged, wishing she had just gone straight to her room and never even spoken to any of them.

'Perhaps it was as she said, all that talk of the murders bringing back the memories of it,' she reasoned dully, the faintly sick feeling she had carried with her since the house now stronger than ever. Nalia snorted, but Fritha could believe it, especially when she considered how easily memories of the dungeon surfaced for her.

'You cannot honestly believe that! She could have said anything, made up any excuse for her reaction, but she did not.' Nalia frowned, fixing Fritha with a dark gaze. 'You may not be willing to fight for Haer'Dalis's attentions, but that doesn't mean she isn't!'

Fritha sighed tersely, feeling her jaw clench.

'Nalia, I know you don't like Aerie so much at the moment, but I really wish you would not portray her so, because it makes me think I should be defending her and I really don't feel like it right now! Oh, sod this!' she burst out, suddenly sick of even thinking about the bard, 'I'm going for a wash.'

xxx

Fritha sighed, her legs unreasonably heavy as she trudged up the last few stairs and into the hallway. She had always be very aware of the fact that Haer'Dalis could well have been flirting with her for the mere entertainment of it, especially when he seemed happy enough to tease her with talk of his dove. But, now it seemed likely that real feelings did lie beneath the cavalier demeanour, and ones that did not appear to be intent upon herself.

She thought back to the look he had given Aerie when she had told him, so intense and full of feeling, and Fritha could not recall a time when he had seemed so moved by anything. She shook her head darkly. He preferred Aerie, he had to.
He could have just been concerned about her…

Fritha scowled, knowing she was no closer to the truth of things than she had been that morning and feeling more than irritated by it.
Oh, why bother with this useless questioning? What did any of it matter? Especially since at that moment in time she would have gladly swapped the whole damned headache for a hot bath and a night's untroubled sleep.

And what does that say about the sincerity of your feelings? something in the back of her mind whispered, though she was given no longer to consider this, one of the doors suddenly opening to reveal Anomen, dark blue cloak about his shoulders and key in hand, the man starting as he turned to lock his door and finally noticed her.

'Fritha!' he exclaimed, closing to her side in one stride and she anticipated his concern.

'Don't worry, Anomen,' she interrupted, holding up a hand to placate him, 'I'm fine.'

'But, what on Toril has happened to you?'

She sighed, steeling herself to relate the story yet again.
'Jaheira and I found the murderer. His house, funnily enough, was full of skin.'

'Skin?' Anomen's brow creased with a frown not meant for her. 'He was storing it? For what reason?'

Fritha shook her head as the memories resurfaced, her head pressed to the floorboards, one hand stretched into the darkness under his bed, fingers brushing something soft, almost downy…

'He was a tanner by trade,' she finally answered with a deep breath, considerable effort going on not being sick again, 'he was making it into clothes.'

Anomen looked no less than horrified.
'Helm's mercy!' he breathed, staring at her as though he could barely believe what she had said, 'why would anyone do such a thing?'

Fritha shrugged, a slight bitterness creeping into her voice.

'We don't know. He's dead and his accomplice escaped by boat. We spent the last few hours searching his house with some of the city guard, but apart from bodies and leather, we found nothing to give any indication as to why he was doing what he was doing or where his colleague could have gone.'

Anomen nodded once, his resolve reassuring.
'Well, at least the monster is dead and the city safer for it. And are you well, Fritha?' he continued more gently, his brow furrowed once more, 'you look pale.'

She snorted humourlessly, wiping a finger across her grimy forehead.
'I'm surprised you can tell what colour I am under all this.'

But he persisted to look concerned and she gave him a wan smile

'I'm all right. I've been better, but I'm all right. You go to meet Lirsand's friend?'

He nodded and she smiled, wishing him well and the two parted, Anomen disappearing down the stairs as she rooted gingerly in her bag for her key, finally escaping to the solitude of her room.

Fritha did not wish for a trip to the bathhouse, not when it was likely Jaheira would be there as well, ready to press talk from her, and she could not be bothered to summon a maid and wait while a bath was brought up to her room. And so Fritha settled for stripping to her underwear to stand before the dresser, filling the washbowl from the plain cracked jug of water already there and washing herself as best she could, her skin bristling in protest as the cold soaped cloth was scrubbed up over her arms.

It was not so bad though. Covered though her arms, face and feet had been, the rest of her was quite clean, her clothes bearing the worst of the gore. Fritha glanced to the pile in the corner where she had thrown them. She would have to take them over to the laundress later, though she would wait to see if the others had any as well; Jaheira surely would.

Her wash over with, Fritha emptied the ruddy water out the window and pulled a pair of clean trousers from her bag. The crisp black linen felt fresh and pleasant as she pulled them on and she was halfway into a dark blue tunic of the same material when a knock sounded at her door.

'Come in.'

The door opened and even with half a tunic and a mass of ginger curls over her eyes, Fritha could recognise the long freckled face peering around it.

'Hello Nalia.'

'Fri- oh, forgive me,' the girl apologised, turning to close the door behind her and taking a good deal longer about it that she would have usually. 'I did not think you would still be changing.'

'It's not a problem,' Fritha answered absently, still straightening out the shoulders of the tunic and smoothing it down, turning to the dresser as she continued. 'If you are here to talk about the lovebirds, then I'd really rather not.'

Nalia sent her a pained look, crossing to sit on the bed.
'Oh, Fritha, I cannot tell you how cross I am with Aerie about this. I don't care what you say, it really was unfair of her.'

Fritha merely shrugged, sitting to unpin her hair and take up her comb, her hair oil next it and untouched in her despondency.
'If it was deliberate, which I am disinclined to believe it was. Can you not even consider that perhaps I am right and it was as she said, the talk of the murders awakening upsetting memories for her.'

Nalia snorted incredulously.
'The only thing Aerie was upset about then, was the way Haer'Dalis was looking at you.'

But this revelation did not awaken the same warm thrill as it had the night before… well, maybe just a glimmer.
Fritha sighed deeply. Her affection had felt so fair and sincere to begin with, but all this fuss and worry seemed to be corrupting the thing, twisting it into something far more calculated and narrow-eyed.

Fritha paused in her brushing and glanced to the mirror before her. Anomen had been right, she was pale. She shook her head.

'Let us abandon trying to divine why Aerie told him,' Fritha continued, stalwartly ignoring the girl's frown as she glanced back to her, 'and look at the fact she actually did. She must really like him, Nalia, I mean, really like him.'

But the girl shook her head, standing from the bed to move behind her, her face joining Fritha's in the mirror, stern and determined.
'The choice is his. That is what you said, is it not? But he has to know he has a choice, Fritha. Just- just go back down to the table, take his hand and just say, Haer'Dalis, I am pleased that you are with this group.'

Fritha felt her stomach lurch unpleasantly at the mere thought.
'No, no! It's too soon. I can't. Perhaps in a couple more days, when things are clearer.'

'Clearer?' repeated Nalia with a confused frown, 'Fritha, you do like him, don't you?'

Fritha opened her mouth to answer and suddenly stopped. Yes, she did like him when he was there with her, joking or talking about music or her theatre, but then he would turn and be just as engaging with Aerie. It wasn't that she was particularly jealous of the attention he showed the elf, but Fritha had hoped that when she met someone that they would just like her and her alone, and she felt there was something very sad about having to fight for someone's attentions.

And then came the issue of what to do if she actually caught him! Like Haer'Dalis though she did, Fritha was still all cold reluctance when it came to ideas of anything more intimate, and she could not help but worry that if she rushed into a relationship through fears of losing him to Aerie, they may both end up regretting it quite soon afterwards.

'Dearest?' prompted Nalia again and Fritha sighed with frustration.

'Yes, no, oh, I don't know! He makes me feel- but then there's Aerie- and I've got to remember the group- Oh, so many conflicting feelings! It's like I'm going mad! I wish I could just take them all out of myself, just put them in a jam jar in my bag until all this is over with!'

Fritha sank forward with a groan, laying her face upon her folded arms, her hair spilling about her to curtain her off from the world. A voice at her shoulder, tentative, concerned.

'Fritha, dearest… are you crying?'

'No, I'm bloody not!' Fritha burst out, straightening with a ferocity to whirl on the girl. 'Why am I even bothering with this? He's liked her from the beginning! He never saw me as anything more than the living embodiment of his Doomguard philosophies. Even his name for me serves as ample clue.' She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. 'Raven. A pretty epithet. The bird that lives on carrion and makes its life in the death of others; he has the measure of me, all right.'

She groaned again, her frustrations spent, dropping her head onto the dresser and barely registering it as the comb was taken from her unresisting fingers.

'Here, let me,' came Nalia softly, as though coaxing a child and she felt hands gently gathering the hair back from her shoulders, the faint scent of almonds filling the air as she felt the girl smooth the oil down her hair and begin to gently comb it through.

They were silent for a long while after that, Fritha eventually straightening in her seat to let the girl comb more easily; just sat, elbows resting on the dresser and chin cupped in her hands as she watched Nalia in the mirror before her. The girl was seemingly absorbed in her work, her slight frown of concentration deepening now and then with some knot or tangle, until the comb ran smoothly through a dozen or so times and she finally was satisfied.

'Thank you,' said Fritha quietly, finally breaking the silence and turning to the girl behind her. 'I'm sorry about this. I must sound like a proper little harpy. I should be happy for her… for them.'

'For them?' Nalia repeated, taking her shoulders as though to press her confidence into her, 'Haer'Dalis likes you, I'm sure of it. He just…'

She trailed off with an uncomfortable look and Fritha smiled ruefully.

'Likes Aerie as well. Yes, I know.'

Nalia's grip tightened on the comb, her look suddenly earnest.
'Fritha, it's not too late. Here, I'll dress your hair, you can put on your embroidered tunic and we can go down together-'

'No, no, no,' Fritha cut in firmly, shaking her head, 'I'm far too old, busy and, dare I say it, sensible to do anything of the sort. Quite apart from the fact I don't feel I should have to, it would be like getting him to compare a thoroughbred Cormyrian racehorse with a lame donkey.'

'Fritha!' cried Nalia, amused and appalled in the same breath while Fritha laughed ruefully. 'You obviously embroidered that tunic for a reason. Why are so set against the idea of wearing it?'

Fritha frowned.
'It's not wearing it, it's wearing it for him.'

'But why?' came Nalia again and Fritha sighed, smiling slightly.

'Do you really want to know? Because I'm a coward, Nalia. A wretched fearful coward. And quite apart from the fact the idea of even kissing Haer'Dalis at this moment in time petrifies me, I just don't think I could bear the idea of letting him know I liked him only to be rejected. But,' she continued, her voice strengthening slightly, 'it seems Sune as well as Tymora favours the brave, and for all her tears, Aerie is behaving with a lot more courage than I am in this.'

She glanced back to her reflection, wondering how she could still look so normal when she felt so melancholy.

'I just wanted to be friends first. I just wanted to be myself and see if anything was to slowly grow between us as we travelled and worked together. I wanted him to like me, as I like him. But it seems his regard is split, and none too evenly either, I'll warrant, and I have to fight for enough things in my life without adding affection to the list.' Fritha shook her head, smiling ruefully. 'Ah, I've already lost, haven't I?'

Nalia sent her a sad look, seeming unable to refute it and Fritha nodded once, twisting her hair up and pinning it as she stood.

'I'm going to the theatre; do you want to come too?'

'No, no, I should wait here for Minsc.'

Fritha nodded, stepping into her sandals and belting on her sword.

'I'll see you later then. My key's on the dresser, just lock the door as you leave, will you.'

Downstairs, Haer'Dalis and Aerie were still at the table in silence, the account of Aerie's past horrors no longer occupying them it seemed, though whether because they had run out of things to talk about or it was simply no longer necessary once Fritha had left the table, the girl did not know. The elf glanced up from her cup as she approached though, looking drawn, and Fritha wonder briefly if she did not regret how things were progressing.

'Ah, my raven,' came Haer'Dalis as she passed, standing to hail her, his look concerned behind the smile and she considered she had never seen him greet anyone quite so politely. 'Are you back to join us?'

Fritha shook her head, slowing her pace but not stopping, a bright smile plastered to her face.
'Fraid not, I've got things to do over at the theatre. Perhaps I'll see you both later.'

Haer'Dalis looked as though he would have questioned her. So did Aerie for that matter, but Fritha's feet had carried her past and out before either could voice a word to halt her.

Outside the air was cool and light, the first chill of autumn in the breeze and at last she felt able to breathe. She stood there a pace or so from the door, unmindful of the passers-by as she drew deep grateful breaths. Rejiek's house had put a lot of things into perspective; reminded her that, however hard it was watching someone eclipse you in another's affections, there was still much to be grateful for.
She was alive, she was free, she still had all her skin…
That wasn't funny

No, but life generally wasn't and it had never stopped her laughing before. One last deep lungful, the scent of the great unwashed and her own hair tickling her nose, and she was off, walking smartly down the street towards the bridge.