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. Nor do I own 'Say not the Struggle Naught availeth' by A H Clough.
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

Come in to the garden

They walked through the morning without halting, the marshland slowly giving way to forests once more as they travelled further north and they reached the grove at about high sun. The group paused for a moment before a place where the trees seemed to grow even more thickly, the only visible path onwards between two large ash trees, the branches bowing together to almost make an archway, their escort of druids pressing in about them as they passed beneath it. Cernd had, of course, lived there at one time and knew what to expect, though his companions were predictably astounded as they crossed this unseen boundary.

'It- it's so warm,' breathed Aerie, the elf gazing about her in awe and Cernd smiled, her wonder pleasant to see even under such grim circumstances. He glanced up, sunlight streaming through the leafy canopy, a clear blue sky visible here and there as the trees swayed in the warm breeze.

'It is a boon of Nature,' explained Rias with a smile of his own, 'The grove and the area around it remain as spring, that we might always have a place here to live in close harmony with the natural world.'

'Quiet back there,' snapped Lynd and silence descended over the group once more as they carried on their path, some even shedding their cloaks as they went, another half an hour's walk bringing them at last to the heart of the grove. They were brought to a halt on the edge of the large clearing and Cernd drew in a deep breath; it was all just as he remembered. An outcrop of mossy rocks stood at the far side, crystal clear water bubbling up from the spring within to cascade down into a small pool, a narrow stream leading from it to snake off into the forests they had just passed through. While to the east were the ruins that had stood there from time immemorial, a circle of huge square blocks in blue-grey stone, each carved with images and characters of some long dead tongue and bordering a deep pit where Cernd knew the ritual challenges were traditionally held.

And there, presiding over it all on a twisting throne of still-growing birch saplings sat a figure, her plain features glowing with all of Nature's beauty: Faldorn.
It looked as though the whole of the grove had been informed of their arrival, druids stood about the edge of the clearing in small knots, some Cernd recognised, others he did not, their quiet muttering humming in the air, though all fell silent as their leader spoke.

'So you have come,' Faldorn began, surveying their group slowly through a curtain of dark unkempt hair before her eyes came to rest upon him and Cernd straightened under her gaze. 'Ah, Cernd… I told Lynd to kill you if you set foot within a league of the grove, but you always did have a way of getting around people, didn't you?'

'Unlike you, Faldorn,' he answered coldly, casting about him pointedly. 'The grove looks much reduced in number. Tell me, where is Kaeren, and Umrith, and Ged? Have you had them murdered along with the people of Trademeet?'

'They fine as far as we know, Cernd,' came a deep voice and Cernd glanced across the clearing to find Pauden in amongst the others, leant against a tree, his leopard sat at his side. 'They left with a few others soon after Gragus fell. They did not agree with the path we were to take. I believe they are living as best they can in the marshland east of here now.'

Faldorn shot Pauden an angry look.

'They were fools just as Gragus was; their weakness was a disease that we are better off without!'

Cernd drew himself up, trying to will a calmness to his heart even as he felt the anger welling within him.

'Do not speak of Gragus! He trusted you and you used such to place a dagger in his back!'

'I challenged him within the bounds of the ancient laws and won leadership fairly. I am Great Druid now, Cernd; an abhorrence such as you is not worthy to even draw breath in my presence!'

Cernd felt his temple twitch and took a moment to draw a few deep breaths; the worst thing he could do would be to transform there, before them all and give credence to her claims.

'Yes, and what do you do with your title now you have it? There is only one abhorrence here, Faldorn, and it is your abuse of this grove! I know of the bonding. Even now you destroy the subtle balance here to serve your own desires for power.'

'This is the will of Nature!' she screeched, her dark eyes alight with a sudden wildness, 'The Earth Mother feeds me that I may fight for her. Trademeet is a blight upon this land and I will see it in ruins! And as for you, we here in the grove know of your true vile nature, but do your new companions know about the wolf they have so willingly welcomed in to their flock? He,' she shrieked as she threw an accusatory hand at him, 'is a werewolf.'

Cernd swallowed, waiting for the outcry. But nothing came and he risked a glance to the woman next to him, Jaheira looking from him to Fritha, the girl just shrugging indifferently as she turned back to Faldorn.

'And? He is certainly not the first one I have met. Some I have known were very nice and others were quite the opposite… just like people can be, if you think about it.' Fritha smiled slightly. 'I'm afraid you're going to have to come up with something a little more scandalous than that, if you're going to impress us, Faldorn.'

Cernd watched as the colour drained from Faldorn's face, her anger seemingly beyond words as her terrible revelation was proved mere triviality.

'Kill them!' she barked suddenly, Lynd already moving to obey as Cernd shouted for him to halt.

'Wait! Under the laws that govern all druids I demand the right to challenge you!'

Faldorn laughed scornfully. 'You are an abhorrence here, you have no rights.'

'Perhaps not, but I do!

Fritha snapped her eyes to the woman next to her, Jaheira stood tall and glorious in her anger, her eyes blazing as she continued.

'I, too, am a druid, of the Osif Woods conclave in Tethyr and I challenge your leadership of this grove as is my right.'

Faldorn stared down at her, her look measured and calculating before she nodded once.

'As you will it. I revel in the violence of the Challenges and I welcome this chance to end your miserable life.' She cast her gaze over the rest of their group, 'Know that anyone who steps in to interrupt the fight will be killed instantly.'

Fritha nodded her agreement as those about her muttered theirs, though she knew for a fact that if Jaheira was about to fall there was no way she would just be standing by to watch, whatever Faldorn's threats. The druid rose from her throne, Lynd and a few others moving to attend her as members of their own group pressed in around Jaheira, Minsc helping her out of her armour while Cernd kept up a constant mutter at her ear on Faldorn's fighting style. Fritha sent the woman what she hoped was an encouraging smile through the press before turning away, moving over to the pit's edge, the old stones still bearing the dark stains of previous fights.

With Faldorn invulnerable outside of these challenges and Cernd unrecognised as a druid there, this was really the best way this could have turned out, and yet…

'Are you well, Fritha?' came a voice behind her and she turn back to find Nalia watching her, the girl's concern evident.

'Ah, you know,' Fritha shrugged. They both knew the worries that came with knowing a friend was soon to be in danger and she saw no need to voice them, instead changing the subject to one in which she could perhaps be of help, 'Are you still cross with me about this morning?'

Nalia shook her head sadly. 'No, dearest, I never was. I am angry at myself more than anything. I always thought of myself as such a strong person, but these last few days have shown me I'm really just like every other cosseted noble.'

'You're not, don't say that,' Fritha cried, hating to hear her sounding so defeated, 'This life, the travelling and the weather, it gets to everyone, you know. The only reason I'm not whinging a bucketful every single moment is because I have to set a good example for the rest of you.'

Nalia smiled slightly, her manner becoming graver as she went to speak again

'Fritha, I-'

'Come,' shouted Faldorn, the woman already in the pit, a thick quarterstaff in hand. 'It is time!'

Fritha turned from Nalia, her stomach clenching painfully as she watched Jaheira descend the uneven stone steps to join the shadow druid. Fritha didn't usually think of Jaheira as short. Indeed she was tall for a half-elf, but even so, she looked very small as she moved into the pit below her, Faldorn standing at least half a head taller. The other druids and her own companions had gathered about the pit to watch as well and Jaheira glanced up, scanning their faces, Fritha smiling slightly as she found hers and the druid gave her nod of acknowledgement before the woman dropped her gaze back to Faldorn, rolling her shoulders and readying her own iron-bound staff as she waited for Lynd to give the sign.

'And… begin!'

There was a flurry of movement, Faldorn instantly on the attack, bringing her staff up sharply to strike out at Jaheira's chest, Jaheira dodging backwards and raising her own stave to push the blow to the side before lunging towards her with a thrust of her own, the butt of her weapon narrowly missing Faldorn's jaw as the shadow druid drew back and Faldorn looked mildly surprised. She had clearly thought this would be an easy victory and Fritha felt her hopes rise slightly at her over-confidence, the two women now circling warily, each waiting for the other to make the next move. Faldorn broke first, the air filling with the loud crack, crack, crack and the gasps and shouts of the crowd as the pair traded blows, each trying to land a hit, Fritha only half-aware of those around her as she watched them fight; Minsc shouting in Rashemi, Aerie watching everything through splayed fingers.

Jaheira blinked the sweat from her eyes, trying not to let their sting distract her as she watched the women opposite for any slight movement that would herald an attack, the women circling each other once more. She had been taught to fight by the druids of her own conclave from a very early age and had practically grown up with a staff in her hand. But Faldorn's skill was exceptional as well, the power behind her blows more than a match for Jaheira's own agility and the druid could feel herself growing tired.

Faldorn struck out at her again, Jaheira moving to parry the blow, catching it awkwardly against the lower portion of her staff only for Faldorn to quickly redirect the swing, and pain exploded through her leg as it connected with her knee.

Jaheira stumbled, knowing that her ability to dodge any further attacks was all but finished; if the fight didn't end now all would be lost, and she followed through on her stumble, feigning a much greater injury, the druid staggering forward a step as though she was about to fall to her knees and pretending to catch her weight on her staff. A hush seemed to fall over the crowd as Faldorn raised her stave for the finishing blow, and Jaheira caught a glimpse of Fritha in the sea of faces above her, the girl resolute in her fear, her sword already half-drawn, though her intervention was not needed. Jaheira suddenly adjusted her weight to spring forward, her knee screaming as she smashed the end of her staff into Faldorn's throat, the woman's head snapping backwards as she fell dead.

It was as though a sigh of relief shuddered through the land, some dark weight Jaheira had not noticed before suddenly lifted from her heart and the grove about her looked all the more beautiful for it. She leant back against the pit's side breathing heavily and there was a rush for the steps as her companions all moved at once, racing to her side, Fritha instantly leaping over the wall above to land lightly next to her.

'Ah! You won! You won!' she cried, overjoyed and clearly unconcerned about any possible treachery from Lynd and the others.

'Fritha, calm down, you-'

But any further admonishments were lost as the girl flung her arms about her neck and she was swamped in a elated hug. Jaheira smiled in spite of herself returning the embrace, and for a moment her worries were forgotten too, everything well in the world.

xxx

'Ah, I'm in heaven,' sighed Aerie from where she was sat reclined against the broad trunk of a beech tree a little way back from the stream's edge, the elf supposedly mending one of Minsc's shirts though she looked to be doing little more than enjoying the sunshine at that moment in time. Minsc himself was sat a short way further along the bank, laughing and talking with Fritha who was stood in the stream itself, her trousers rolled up above her knees as she rinsed a tunic, their chatter an unintelligible mixture of Rashemi and the local Chondathan.

Nalia smiled faintly, giving the pot before her another languid stir with the stick she had found, slowly agitating the mixture of clothes and water within and engulfing her with the fresh sharp scent of soap.

It had been Fritha's idea. They had made camp in a smaller glade a short way from the main clearing, Aerie's talk whilst they were doing so of having nothing clean to wear after so many days of travelling prompting Fritha into organising some, what she had termed, 'well-overdue laundry'. And so the four of them, for Anomen had already disappeared off into the forests and Haer'Dalis had returned to the main clearing to study the ruins there, had gathered up Jaheira's cooking pot, Fritha's soap and all the clothes they could carry and made for the stream, Fritha leading them almost to the edge of the grove before they'd stopped and begun their work.

Nalia dropped her attention again to the pot before her. She knew she should probably be stirring it with a bit more vigour for the best results, but after last few days, it was just so pleasant to be there, warm and dry and comfortable, that she couldn't quite muster the will to do anything more than sit and enjoy their surroundings. She glanced to Fritha, the instigator of this industry, the girl stood in the stream with the much more arduous task of actually washing and rinsing the soapy clothes Nalia was passing to her in batches. Though for all that, her friend was showing the work much more enthusiasm than she was, the ranger seemingly telling her names of the clothes in Rashemi as she went.

'And this one?'

'That I think would be a kozulk, though we have a longer kind of tunic too, usually lined with fleece which we would call schrod'ka.'

'Hmm, kozulk. Oh, and look at that, a hole in the sleeve –What's sleeve, Minsc?'

'Rekif.'

'And button?'

'Geyt.'

'Ooo, I like that one. Geyt, geyt… What about hem?'

'Hem? What is this?'

'The bit that's turned inside to keep the open edge neat. See?'

'Ah, orsac, I am thinking… I am man of swords, young Fritha, not sewing, I do not know these things in either tongue.'

'All right, all right; what about… soap?'

Nalia smiled, giving the pot before her another lazy poke, the clothes within squelching in the cloudy water, the sound bringing back unwanted memories of the marshland they had just left; the marshland they would once more be trudging through tomorrow. Her smile faded. It was as though a cloud had suddenly moved across the sun, a melancholy dread filling her as she thought of their journey to come, of their walk back to Athkatla, of a whole winter of this misery.

She was glad to be helping people, of course, putting an end to bandit groups and saving towns, but it all felt so indirect. Trademeet was no longer under attack, yes, but children were still left hungry and injustices still prevailed for the common citizen. Something more had to be done; something deeper had to change within the very structure of their society.
Nalia sighed, feeling her plans were all pointless anyway. She had no way of implementing them from where she was then; no path outside the one laid before her.

There is always your keep…

Nalia felt her face flush and dipped her head lest anyone notice. She never thought of her keep outside of guilty daydreams, a warm thought for when she lay unsleeping in those bitter nights of camping. But still the idea lingered and grew. If only there was some way of getting her keep back then she could really set about changing things for the better! And she could extend this aid to her friends as well. She would gladly have them all there with her, her aunt's sensibilities be dammed, and they would always have somewhere safe and comfortable to stay while they made plans for their next expedition. Her keep was only a good day's travel from the city proper; close enough for Fritha's theatre and any searches for work.

Nalia sighed again, giving the clothes before her a despondent stab. But it was all merely a dream, just as she had assured Fritha days ago. Isea would not be tried for months, even if the authorities had found enough evidence to do so. And then he would have to be found guilty and then,the courts would have to rule in favour of restoring her keep to her, Lord de'Arnise's wayward daughter. In her mind, Nalia saw an image of herself stood before the magistrates to plead her case, her robes muddy and travel-worn, leaves sticking from her dirty hair and she couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry.

'Well, what's this?' came a voice before them and Nalia swallowed both to glance up and see Haer'Dalis stroll into the clearing, a leather-bound folio under his arm, 'Our leader has turned laundress! She looked so neat and nimble O, a-washing of her linen O,' he sang brightly and Fritha laughed.

'Yes, not quite caterpillar to butterfly, is it?' she grinned, straightening to push damp curls from her face with her forearm and Nalia couldn't have disagreed more. 'It's very enjoyable though,' Fritha continued blithely, 'you can lend a hand if you like, sparrow.'

Haer'Dalis smiled and shook his head. 'I believe my skills will be better employed elsewhere, my raven, though I would happily surrender you a pair of tunics if you can spare the soap.'

Fritha glanced to Nalia who nodded once and the girl turned back to him with a shrug.

'All right then, hoy them over.'

Haer'Dalis tossed her the clothes with a smile, moving to gently stroke Aerie's head as he sat next to her, taking a moment to kiss her lightly. Nalia had noticed the bard was paying Aerie attention of more affectionate nature lately and she wondered if Cernd's addition to their group wasn't to blame. Aerie certainly looked to be enjoying the change though, the girl glowing as he finally drew back and opened his folio to begin drawing.

Fritha was already back at work, bent double as she rinsed something, the girl catching her watching to send her a friendly wink and Nalia smiled slightly; whatever happened in the future, at least she would always have this.

xxx

Jaheira smiled to herself, closing her eyes and making no move to duck as she felt the leaves of a low branch brush her face, the lingering ache in her knee doing nothing to mar her feelings of contentment as she walked through the trees, Cernd at her side. The others of their group had left soon after Faldorn's defeat, eager to make camp and get some rest, though Jaheira had stayed with Cernd in the main clearing, talking with the other druids about what was now to be done. Lynd and a few others who had apparently shown an enthusiasm for Faldorn's harsh regime had disappeared very soon after she'd fallen and hopes were high among the remaining druids that those members who had been driven out by the shadow druid's tyranny would soon be returning to the grove.

An older druid named Verthan had been placed in charge as a temporary leader while a new Great Druid was chosen, the old man's eyes shining kindly as he'd slyly intimated that if she agreed to join their grove, she would get his recommendation for the honour. Jaheira smiled, knowing she could never stay there, however beautiful; her place was out in the world.

In the main clearing a wild boar was already spited and roasting over a fire pit, the druids preparing a feast in celebration of the grove's restoration, her and Cernd's offers to help being genially refused, Verthan merely setting them the task of inviting their companions to the gathering and they had left to return to their camp only to find it empty. For a moment, they had been at a loss, until a helpful young druid told them she had seen four of their company walking southwards with armfuls of dirty clothes in tow and Jaheira had known exactly where they would have disappeared to, she and Cernd striking out eastwards to meet the stream that had its source in the main clearing before following the flow of water southwards through the forests.

Jaheira glanced to the canopy above her, enjoying the way the light dappled the leaves, though she paid for her lack of concentration, her foot twisting on a root and she hissed as pain shot through her knee, Cernd sending her a concerned glance.

'It is still troubling you? You should let someone have another look at it –I am sure you would not be short of volunteers after your actions here today.'

'I did no more than you would have done, no more than what should be expected from any of Nature's servants,' she dismissed, slowly straightening and happy to change the subject as they continued their path. 'So have you any plans to remain here in the grove now it is freed? I believe many here would wish you to stay.'

Cernd smiled too though the gesture held a wry air, gazing up at the canopy as they walked.

'Yes, and just as many cannot wait to see me leave. You must sense it; they are constantly on guard, as the rabbits in the field.'

Jaheira glanced to him with a frown.

'Just because you are a werewolf?'

'Yes and no… I was not always like this, neither a servant of Nature nor a werewolf. Though I had always held Nature close to my heart, it was not until my twenty seventh year that I first came to live at this grove as a druid. I had just been infected with lycanthropy but months before and my more beastly side was all too apparent. Gragus welcomed me in though, even knowing what I was.'

Cernd smiled absently as he remembered his mentor.

'He taught me how to control my wilder nature, even through the moon's cycles, keeping an even temper and a serene heart the key to his teachings. But there were some things that could always push the calm lessons of my mentor from my mind and Faldorn was one of them. I told you we did not see eye to eye on many matters, but the truth was I hated her and her feelings toward me were no less malevolent. My lessons to control my lycanthropy meant I had to spend a lot of time with our leader and she believed he favoured me and my council over the others. Though Gragus led this grove, he always encouraged free discussion within its members. We would talk of how best to serve Nature with the changing times and expansion of man, Faldorn's martial stance leading she and I to arguments more than once, though Gragus could usually stop things before they got out of hand. But he could not be there always...'

Cernd trailed off a moment, a shadow passing across his eyes.

'I do not know whether she noticed I found it hard to control myself when I was angry and wished to shame me, or whether she just hated me enough for her to need no hidden motive, but we were arguing one day and she began to goad me. She accused me of manipulating Gragus, said I was an abhorrence to the grove, to Nature Herself, that my work as a druid was false, that I had only become a druid because with my lycanthropy I could not fit in with normal people anymore. She hit a nerve and I am ashamed to say I lost my temper and my control and my beastly side took hold. I transformed and attacked her. She was not badly injured in the end, but I do not know how much that was due to the intervention of Lynd and a few others. I changed back soon enough and my regrets could not have been more sincere, but the damage had been done. Gragus did not order me to leave, in fact he asked me to stay. But there were many who disagreed with him, and Faldorn raised enough support that it could have split the grove in two. I left to prevent that.'

'I see,' Jaheira said after a moment, unsure of what else to say. Though she did not hold with the idea that lycanthropes were in anyway an abhorrence to Nature, Cernd's outburst would have raised her concerns for the safety of the grove as a whole. Would she too have been siding with Faldorn at the time? Jaheira shook her head, such questions as unanswerable as they were pointless. 'So you'll return to the Grand Druid then?'

Cernd dipped his head to one side slightly, as though considering the point.

'Perhaps… though if I am honest, I would prefer to travel a while with your group if I can; I sense great things in your wake and where better can one serve the Balance?'

Jaheira nodded once, hearing this request to broach the subject on his behalf.

'I will speak with Fritha, though you must understand that with the winter approaching and work becoming harder to find, she may see you as more of a burden than a benefit.'

Cernd nodded his acceptance, his voice mild as he returned his attention to their path.

'Yes, she is a very interesting girl… very mature for all her youth.'

'You would think, wouldn't you?' muttered Jaheira dryly as they finally came upon their companions, laughter and singing mixing with the sound of rushing water. Haer'Dalis, Minsc and the two girls were on the opposite bank, laughing as they clapped out the beat, while Fritha stood in the water singing in Alzhedo about an octave higher than sounded comfortable, and doing some very enthusiastic Calimshite dancing to go with it. She could not help but look odd, but then, Jaheira considered as she watched Nalia laughing brightly, that was probably the idea. Fritha stopped as she saw them though, smiling brightly.

'Hello Cernd, oh and Jaheira too, anything you want washing?'

'Hello friends,' greeted Cernd as Jaheira instantly began rooting in her bag to throw her tunic and a pair of linen trousers; just because she would never have bothered with it herself, did not mean she would turn down the chance of clean clothes. At her side, Cernd smiled and shook his head.

'I have nothing, thank you, but I do come bearing a message. There is to be a feast this eve to celebrate the restoration of this grove and we are here to escort you to it.'

Fritha smiled glancing to the others sat on the bank above her. 'You heard the man; I'll be along once I've finished here.'

A flurry of movement as everyone packed up and made to stand, Aerie smiling brightly as she shouldered her bag.

'We'll see you soon then -are you coming, Nalia?' she questioned to the girl, still sat on the bank and looking torn. Fritha smiled.

'Go on, dearest, you've finished your work; go and save me a place.'

Nalia smiled slightly and nodded, letting Aerie link arms with her as they moved off, Fritha's voice calling after them on the warm air.

'Oh, and if you see Anomen, tell him to come visit me if he needs anything washing.'

xxx

Anomen walked slowly through the trees, the bracken brushing his legs as he passed. He had been out in the grove for the last hour or so now, alone save for his thoughts. The others had been in high spirits after Faldorn's defeat, all laughing and talking as they'd made camp, but Anomen had not remained with them for long. Their happiness when he himself felt so despondent was hard to bear, the fact his ill-humour was quite undeserved on their part making him feel even worse, and he had soon left to suffer his melancholy alone.

And so that had left him there, just walking aimlessly through the grove, trying to find a little peace. His worries on his upcoming test were like a plague on his thoughts though, only the hours of sleep giving him respite from the heavy knowledge that the judgement that would likely bring an end to a lifetime of hopes and hard work was looming. Talking to Fritha that morning had helped, for the girl could always be trusted to give sound council, but there was still nothing neither she nor he could actually do about the situation.

It had felt as though he could have walked about there forever, the unchanging forests holding a timeless quality until his wandering felt almost dreamlike. But at last he had stopped, kneeling beneath the trees to make his prayers, taking a little longer over them than he would have usually and at last he had felt, if not better, certainly ready to return to the others. He moved past the last few trees, stepping into the small clearing where they had made their camp to find it all but deserted, the bard there and stooped over his bag, a folio in his hand.

'Haer'Dalis, where is everyone?'

'Ah, Anomen, there you are and just in time it seems. We are invited to join the druids at a feast held in celebration of the grove's restoration.'

'Oh, I see,' Anomen muttered, his resolve to rejoin them all suddenly wavering. 'And what have you been doing with your afternoon?' he continued for want of anything else to say, gesturing to the folio Haer'Dalis held.

'This sparrow? Oh, I have just been watching the women washing.'

'You- you were what?'

'Yes, I even made a sketch, see?' he grinned, holding out a rough drawing of the three girls, a moment of tranquil domesticity captured forever in the fine charcoal lines. 'Fritha said to send you along if I saw you; she is there still.'

Anomen flushed, knowing his first assumption reflected more badly on him than it did the bard and he left Haer'Dalis still grinning widely, the squire following his directions east to the river. It seemed they had settled quite far out and the walk was calming, his previous frustrations with the tiefling fading as he went, the only sound the bright chatter of the water, until, at last, he heard another more familiar voice join its song. Anomen slowed his pace, pushing through the undergrowth, the singing growing louder with every step until he came upon her, Fritha stood in the middle of the stream, her trousers rolled up past her knees and singing at the top of her voice as she rinsed something in the water rushing about her calves.

'Early one morning, just as the sun was rising, I heard a maiden singing in the va- ah! Anomen!' she exclaimed shrilly, glancing up to notice him finally and frowning as she coloured, 'Weren't you ever told it's rude to sneak up on people? I could have been doing anything.'

'Like singing?' he inquired with an innocent smile and was rewarded with a wet tunic to the face.

'Fritha!' he snapped, throwing it back at her and she caught it with an easy laugh, stooping to rinse it again.

'So, do you need something washing? I've done everyone else's, though I warn you now, I don't do hose.'

Anomen let his pack fall from his shoulder and bent down to search through it a moment.

'Well, I have a tunic and some shirts, but I will wash them myself.'

Fritha raised an eyebrow.

'Does the training of the Order include laundering? I'm impressed.' She smiled wryly, beckoning to him, 'Here, throw them over; your willingness is noted, but there is hardly any point in us both getting cold and wet.'

Anomen hesitated a moment before he admitted defeat, kneeling to pull the clothes from his bag and hand them to her with a sigh. Fritha smiled, wading over to him to take them up and place them in the pot she had set on the large flat rock at her feet, the girl using a stick to agitate the contents for a moment, before removing the sopping clothes and emptying the remaining soapy water on the opposite bank. Anomen watched as she stooped to rinse the first. She was flushed from her previous work, her hands pink from the cold water while damp curls were plastered to her temples and neck, and she looked quite pretty in a domestic sort of way.

'There, beautiful,' she sighed, holding up a tunic, its colour much richer then when it was wet, the girl wringing it out and throwing it land on the pile of damp clothes next to him before blithely starting on the next. 'The soap I've got is working quite well and the beating helps- it's only mud for the most part after all. Of course, it would do little on any heavier bloodstains, but not much does. Fermented goblin urine is the best for that, though I don't carry any with me in case the bottle breaks in my bag.'

Anomen just nodded, unsure as to whether she was joking or not. She glanced to him.

'You're very quiet this afternoon…'

'Am I? I suppose I am just dwelling on matters to come, though it is nothing we have not talked over before.'

Fritha took the hint and mildly returned to her washing without further questions. He watched as the girl scrubbed enthusiastically at a grass stain, sighing with a deep contentment when it finally rinsed clean.

'Ah, I think I was made for more domestic tasks. I get such satisfaction from the shine of a pot or a line of freshly washed linen; surely I was born to it.' She glanced to him, noticing his frown to add, 'You can't tell me there aren't scores of housemaids dreaming of adventure and glory at the right end of a blade.' She sighed, wringing out the last of his shirts and dropping it into the now empty pot. 'Grass is always greener, eh?'

She held a hand out expectantly and he helped her onto the bank, her fingers cold in his, the girl gathering the rest of the damp clothes into the pot and swinging it onto her hip as she moved off through the trees.

Fritha smiled, enjoying the feel of the grass under her bare feet, springy and pleasant as she moved about a glade they'd found just a few paces from the stream, hanging up the damp clothes as though the trees had suddenly started putting forth tunics instead of fruit. These last few days had been hard, slowly watching as Nalia became increasingly withdrawn and miserable. At least the magics of the grove had allowed a brief respite from the harsh weather and Fritha knew she should just enjoy it while she could, but it was no good. She knew it was only a few more hours before they would have to leave again and Nalia's melancholy would be tearing at her heart once more. Fritha drew a breath, pushing down her worries and taking pleasure in her work, determined not to let them ruin her time there.

'I think you giving up this life to become a laundress would be rather a waste of your talents, my lady,' continued Anomen as though there had been no pause to their conversation, his tone warmer than it had been, the man taking the shirt she was holding and hanging it over the branch high above her, seemingly without a thought. 'For one who has little over a year of formal training, you have skills that would leave many in the Order envious.'

Fritha gave a snort of laughter.

'Oh yes? I seem to recall an instance just yesterday where they were rather lacking.'

'That your sword broke was hardly any fault of yours and you survived the misfortune unscathed,' Anomen pressed and Fritha shrugged, watching a scattering of starlings playing under some nearby ferns. She knew she should just agree; just thank him for the compliment and move on, but part of her so wanted him to understand that the ability to take up arms did not always come hand in hand with the desire to.

'I suppose… I never really saw the ability to fight as much of a skill. Not like being able to sing or play or dance -not that I can do much of those things either,' she added hastily, feeling herself going red at how conceited she had sounded. But Anomen just smiled slightly.

'Your modesty is not necessary; we both know you have talents there -though it is your skill with a blade that I believe is your true gift.'

She could tell he considered his words were no small compliment and Fritha sighed, forcing a smile.

'So the skills decide the vocation, is it? If we're working by that theory I should definitely become a laundress, I wash clothes a lot better than I fight,' she laughed, hanging up another tunic but Anomen merely frowned.

'You should not joke about such things, Fritha, the idea of you wasting your abilities to become something so mundane is ridiculous.'

Fritha shrugged mildly. 'You think? Well, I was never known for my sense. Besides, this is my life; it should be my choice if I want to become a laundress and keep cats and marry a baker.'

'A baker?' repeated Anomen, looking no less than appalled.

'Well, I like bread and bakeries tend to produce a lot of washing,' she reasoned with a laugh that the squire did not share.

'I had no idea you held such lofty aspirations, my lady,' he muttered sourly, unexpectedly cross. Fritha sighed.

'Oh Anomen, they're just daydreams, I know that I probably wouldn't last a tenday as a laundress before I was bored to tears, but it can be nice to dream of the different paths your life could have taken, don't you think?'

Anomen made a noise somewhere between humourless snort and sigh.

'I have but one dream and it fades before me as each day passes.'

'Then I would have thought having another couple to muse on would be all the more welcome,' she muttered matter-of-factly, tired of his ill-humour when she herself was struggling to keep cheerful.

Anomen's eyes snapped to her with a livid look. 'You would laugh at my plight?'

'Why not? I laugh quite merrily at my own,' she quipped bitterly, sighing again as she shook her head and took a conciliatory step towards him. 'I'm sorry, Anomen, you know I'm not laughing at you. Why don't you just tell me what's wrong?'

But Anomen merely snorted, turning his face away. 'To what end? There is nothing either of us can do.'

Fritha threw up her hands in defeat, stooping for another shirt. 'As you'd have it then, I haven't the patience for this today.'

Behind her, Anomen drew a sharp breath.

'The patience? Oh, your pardon, my lady, I did not realise my troubles were such an inconvenience for you!'

'Anomen,' she cried, a hand moving unconsciously to her hip as she turned to face him again, 'You know I didn't mean it like that. We were getting along fine but a moment ago; why are you now getting so angry over nothing?'

'So it is just nothing now, is it?' he snapped, 'Of course, I should have known any worries of mine would be beneath your interest.'

Fritha drew a deep breath, resisting the urge to scream.

'Are you trying to drive me mad? Enough,' she sighed, forcing herself to calm down as she turned back to her washing, 'I am not going to fight with you about this, Anomen.'

But this only seemed to anger him further.

'How can you stand there so? Just fussing over your laundry, so cold-hearted, so unfeeling!'

Fritha snorted, her voice blithe even as she felt the words' sting.

'Yes, yes, wicked callous Fritha. I've heard it all before and from far more impressive sources than you, Anomen. Pass me that shirt, will you?'

She glanced back to find him staring down at her, his face flushed, before he turned abruptly on his heel and marched from the clearing. Fritha sighed deeply, fetching up the shirt herself and arranging it over the bush before her. Cold-hearted? Sometimes she rather wished she was.

xxx

Anomen marched onward, unmindful of the darkening sky or his increasing hunger as he pushed through the undergrowth. What in the Nine Hells was wrong with him! One moment he and Fritha had been smiling and talking pleasantly enough, the next he was all riled up and trying to pick a quarrel with her. And that look in her eyes as he'd left, the same one she'd worn when they'd argued in the swamp, so tired and resigned, as though she just could not muster the will to care anymore.

He did not know why he'd become so angry, just that when he had said many in the Order would have been jealous of her talents, he had included himself. Imagine the skill he would have now after all his years of training had he been gifted with her natural abilities. And there she was, merrily dreaming of distaff and drudgery. And marriage to a baker! Anomen felt his jaw clench. He was fairly sure she had just been exaggerating then to prove a point, but still the image of her stood next to some corpulent red-faced man, with starched apron and flour in her hair had been a galling one.

But, however annoying, it had been no excuse for his subsequent behaviour. He knew he should just go straight back and apologise, but his shame was such that he could not bear to face her. And so he carried on walking, haunted by thoughts of their fight and his test both, and by the time the night finally drove him back to camp hours later, he felt as though he could have recognised every tree in the grove.

The camp was little livelier than when he had first come upon it though, the three girls reading quietly by the light of assorted lanterns and werelights, while Haer'Dalis sat, his folio resting on his bent knees as he drew. All glanced up as the squire arrived though, Fritha going pointedly back to her book.

'Ah, and Anomen returns as well,' greeted Haer'Dalis, 'Have you been at the feast, knightling?'

'No, I was making my prayers,' he answered promptly, knowing it was a white lie that would save him from any further explanation.

'I thought you might have been,' said Aerie with a smile, her glance to Fritha almost imperceptible, 'Here, I saved you some food.'

Anomen smiled slightly and nodded his thanks as she passed him the three leaf-wrapped bundles, her kindness quite unexpected.

'You missed quite an evening,' continued Haer'Dalis genially, giving Aerie a fond smile as he spoke, 'Many of the druids who left here under Faldorn have already returned, so it was quite the gathering when we left. Minsc and our two druids are still there, but the girls were eager to get back to their books.'

Anomen merely nodded again, in no mood for any conversation and everyone drifted back to their own tasks, the girls continuing their reading while Haer'Dalis worked on a composition from the sketches he had made earlier, the sweep of his stylus and the rustle of paper the only sounds.

Anomen dropped his attention to his meal, peeling the leaves back to reveal a hearty mixture of baked meat, fungi and seeds, now cold but still quite appetising for it. He glanced across the fire as he ate. Fritha was sat on her bedding opposite him, already dressed in the heavy linen slip and pale green tunic she had slept in when they had all shared a room at the inn. He half hoped she would glance up so he could gain some indication of her mood towards him. She seemed absorbed in her book though and he watched her, her eyes flying over the page feverously devouring the words, a wide smile on her face and quite a bit of pink in her cheeks.

'Oh,' she sighed finally, straightening to fan herself with the book, 'This book is wonderful. Oh, I'm all of a flutter.'

Nalia sent her a conspiratorial and rather giggly smile. 'Is that The Pasha's Jewel you're reading now? Oh, I know what you mean; Hectus is rather dashing, isn't he?'

Fritha drew back, her nose crinkled in disgust.

'Oh no, not Hectus. Yuk! I was talking about Niryth.'

'Niryth! Fritha, he's an evil assassin!'

'Yes, but he's properly dishy. Besides, he's not evil, he's just misunderstood,' she countered, her voice trembling with laughter, 'He- he just needs the love of a good woman! I can change him!' she cried, swooning back onto her bedding to laugh merrily at herself.

Nalia and Aerie were laughing, Haer'Dalis shaking his head as he continued to draw.

'Fritha, really, you cannot get all giggly over the villain.'

'Of course, I can. But then,' she smiled, letting her eyes flick pointedly to Anomen, 'I am well known as a girl of doubtful morals.'

Anomen flushed and went back to his food.

'How far are you on with that one now?' asked Aerie and Fritha glanced to her, instantly sheepish.

'Er, chapter fourteen…'

'And you do remember that we all promised to stop at fifteen and swap again?'

'Swap?' questioned Haer'Dalis, glancing up from his work and Nalia nodded.

'Yes, we all just read a bit of each book and then swap. It means we can talk about what has happened and which character's we like almost straight away. It is more enjoyable that way.'

'That all depends on what you're swapping it for,' said Fritha, looking rather put out at having to give up on Niryth so soon.

'Come along,' laughed Nalia, patting the space next to her, 'come over here where I can keep an eye on you.'

And Fritha gladly complied, settling down next to her and stretching out to pillow her head on Nalia's thigh, the girl's lap brimming with copper curls as they both read.

'Well, I've finished with this one for now,' said Aerie after a moment, snapping her book shut with a not quite disguised keenness, 'are you at chapter fifteen yet, Fritha?'

Fritha sighed and nodded, reluctantly handing her own volume over to Aerie who took it up and began to rifle through the pages greedily, finding her place. Fritha dropped her attention dispiritedly to the book she now held.

'Which chapter are we reading up to for this one again?'

'Seventeen, dearest.'

Fritha frowned, muttering as she found her page. 'I don't like this one, there's too much kissing in it for a start.'

'It gets better, I promise,' assured Aerie absently and a silence descended over the clearing again until-

'Ah, ugh, disgusting!' shrieked Fritha, sitting bolt upright and snapping the book shut, 'I'm not reading any more of this; it's positively indecent!'

'Ooo, read it out!' said Nalia keenly. Fritha shook her head, looking delicately pained.

'I can't, it's too horrible.'

'Oh, let me…' Nalia sighed impatiently, taking it from her to find her page and reading for a moment before she too squealed, though she looked far more amused than her friend, the girl laughing merrily. 'Ah, can you imagine someone saying that to you?'

'Not if he wanted to keep his teeth,' Fritha muttered darkly, 'How did you read this, Aerie?'

Aerie shifted where she sat and primly smoothed her skirts, the elf going an uncomfortable shade of pink as Haer'Dalis sent her a highly-interested look.

'Really, it wasn't all that bad; you two are making a fuss over nothing.'

'Nothing?' repeated Nalia, glance back the page, 'What about, He stepped closer and she felt her eyes drawn to the-'

'No, stop it! No more!' cried Fritha shrilly, laughing as she clamped a hand over the girl's mouth. Nalia laughed as well, shutting the book to lightly tap Fritha on the head with it and give her temple a fond kiss.

'Bless you, you goose! Here, you can make a start on one of these if you really can't get on with that one.'

Fritha took the book she offered, her doubtful look as she glanced over the cover soon fading once she had opened it and she was still reading steadily over an hour later when Jaheira and Minsc returned to the camp.

'Ah, you're back,' smiled Aerie, glanced up from her embroidery; she had given up on her book a while ago. 'Oh, where is Cernd?'

Jaheira smiled, dropping her bag next to the elf.

'He is there still. Some old friends of his were amongst those who returned and he is still catching up with them.'

Minsc smiled as well, sighing deeply in a satisfied sort of way. 'Ah, a good evening this has been. Nature is restored and celebrations are made, though I will be glad to see my bed; Boo is already asleep.'

He gently opened his jerkin and proffered Aerie the deep pocket within, the elf giving a soft 'Ah' of delight as she no doubt looked down on the sleeping hamster nestled within.

'Yes, I was surprised you four left when you did,' continued Jaheira as she took a seat next to her pack, 'though by the look of Fritha now, I can perhaps see why. A good read, is it?'

'Hmm?' came Fritha, glancing up for the briefest of moments with clearly no idea of anything that had been said and Jaheira rolled her eyes.

'I will take that as a 'yes' then.'

'Goodness, you've nearly finished it,' laughed Nalia brightly as she shut her own book and leaned over to check on her friend's progress.

'Oh, I have not,' Fritha dismissed, barely tearing her eyes from the page, 'I'm about a third of the way through. Besides, it's only short.'

Across the camp Jaheira stretched out her back and moved to unroll her bedding.

'Well, short or not, I hope you aren't planning to finish it tonight. We've a day of walking ahead of us tomorrow and you'll need your rest.'

Nalia's face was a mask in the lamplight, the smile she had been sharing with Fritha suddenly rigid. Fritha's eyes flicked to the druid, before her own smile broadened, the girl instantly plucking a leaf from the forest floor to mark her page and shutting her book.

'She's right, dearest, we should get some rest. Come on, unpack your bedding next to mine and we can talk about The Pasha's Jewel before we sleep.'

Nalia nodded and smiled.

'Yes, that- that would be nice.'

Together they rose and moved over to where Fritha's blankets were already laid out, talking quietly between themselves as the others bedded down around them and the lamps were extinguished, night finally falling over the camp.

xxx

Anomen was walking once more through the trees of the grove, his gait steady even over the clumps of roots and ferns. But it was no purposeless wandering this time; he had a destination firmly in mind. He had not fallen asleep particularly readily the night before, his mind going over and over his argument with Fritha and when at last he had drifted into sleep, his dreams were strange and disturbing, the squire wandering the empty rooms and courtyards of the Order, until he finally came upon the girl in the Great Hall, though whatever he said or did, it was as though she could not see him.

And so, he had woken, troubled and ill-rested, to find shafts of warm yellow sunlight already pouring through the canopy above him, the glade they had slept in all but deserted, only Aerie and Nalia still lingering in their bedding, Nalia helping the elf comb through her hair. Cernd had brought the group bread and some of the cold leaf-wrapped meats for breakfast and the girls had saved him some. But he had waved their kindness away, asking only where Fritha was, the readiness with which the girls told him making him suspect their argument was still just between she and him.

Anomen caught a glimpse a familiar shirt through the trees up ahead and he knew he was finally there, the glade where they had hung the clothes the evening before, their assorted garments still hanging there, bright panes of colour against the green.

And there Fritha was, sat in the centre of it all, her hair loose and still wearing her heavy linen slip and the green tunic she'd slept in, the addition of her sandals her only concession to the fact she was in the middle of the forest rather than her room at the inn. Her face was dipped as she read from the book that had so consumed her the night before and Anomen watched her a moment. He hated it, that instant just before the apologies were broached, because with every quarrel he became more certain that a reconciliation was less and less likely and that he had ruined something forever. Anomen swallowed and steeled himself.

'My lady, I was won-' He stopped dead as she glanced up, her face pink and blotchy, her eyes red-rimmed and overly bright. 'Fritha, are you well?'

'Sorry?' she began with a sniff, moving to dab her nose on her handkerchief before seeming to realise herself. 'Oh! Oh, yes, I'm fine, Anomen,' she laughed, wiping at her cheeks and gesturing to the spot next to her with the slim volume in her hand. 'I'm just finishing this book. It was a sad story with a happy ending, so I pretty much cried the whole way through.'

Anomen nodded, sinking stiffly down beside her, still slightly unnerved. It wasn't so much her crying, as his reaction to it that was disturbing; surprising how, in those few moments where he'd thought she was upset it had felt as though his insides had suddenly been scooped out, leaving only worry and an unnamed guilt. Her laughter had faded by now and she, too, looked slightly uncomfortable, her eyes guarded being the lingering smile.

'Now you aren't here to have another shout at me are you?'

Anomen swallowed dryly, his face burning.

'My lady, what I said yesterday, I am sorry, I should not have spoken to you like that… Those things I called you, I do not- I-I have never-'

'Oh, no, no,' Fritha cut in, a strange mix of blithe and serious, 'let's not dredge it all up again, Anomen. You are sorry, I am sorry; let's just move on. I was just reading whilst I waited,' she continued brightly, happily changing the subject and gesturing to the tunics and robes that hung about them. 'Some of the clothes are still damp, but I've hopes they'll dry a bit better now the sun's up, because I washed all of mine yesterday and I'll be walking back to Trademeet like this if they haven't dried out in the next hour or so.'

She laughed brightly, clearly not worried by the idea, glancing to him with a slight frown when he did not share her amusement. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing, I- you just seem to forget our arguments so readily,' he explained; they still haunted him for days afterwards.

Fritha just shrugged though. 'Well, there's little point in dwelling on them. Besides, you and I can't seem to help but rub each other the wrong way, can we?'

She laughed gently and Anomen turned away with a sigh, feeling suddenly old.

'You speak of we, but I fear it is obvious where the source of this conflict rests. Another argument, another apology and yet another instance where it is painfully clear as to what the outcome of my test will be.'

Fritha sent him a measured look.

'You always have all the answers, don't you?'

'Well, how do you think the Order will judge me?'

'I do not know, but I believe things will unfold as they should.'

He smiled slightly.

'You sound like Simon. But as time goes on I only feel more certain I will fail… By Helm, four years I have served the Order, and the longer I am there the more I realise I am not worthy of their ranks. And I think of Sir Ryan, my mentor and Sir Blethyn who had me squired and even sweet Moira who stayed alone with my father in that house, so that I could remain at the seminary. How disappointed will they be when I am judged and found unworthy?' He sighed deeply and shook his head. 'I sometimes think it would be easier to just give up on it all now and spare myself the grief.'

'Say not the struggle naught availeth,' Fritha quoted gently, and he glanced up to find her watching him, her dark eyes kind and he felt his shame resurface as the rest of the verse echoed unbidden in his head. 'Besides,' she continued matter-of-factly, 'I really don't know why you are so worried about the Order's judgement; it can't be any harsher than your own. You have proclaimed yourself unworthy without even hearing what they have to say on the matter. Anomen, why do you have yourself convinced you're such a terrible person? Don't you see? It doesn't matter whether Order accepts you or not, if you don't ever accept yourself.'

'Accept myself?' he repeated, surprised she would advocated such a course, 'Just accept the anger and the hatred within my heart? I cannot, my lady. Even if impossible, I must strive to be better than I am.'

Fritha sent him a stern look.

'Accepting who you are does not mean you just give up and make do- but it does mean you're not constantly berating yourself for not being born a saint.' She shook her head, smiling slightly. 'You have to start trusting your own heart, Anomen; it is not quite so black you would paint it and this doubt you constantly feel does nothing save make you unhappy. Just let it go.'

'I try, but…'

'Oh, Anomen, you try too hard!' she cried, falling backwards on the grass with exasperated laugh, 'Not everything has to be a struggle. Here, close your eyes.'

Anomen sent her a confused frown but the girl had already closed her own and he had little choice but to follow suit.

'Now, what do you feel?'

He concentrated, the moments creeping by as he waited for some revelation to spark in the empty hum of his mind. He sighed, frustrated.

'I feel nothing.'

'Anomen,' she warned in a sing-song, 'you're trying to hard…'

Silence once again and after a few moments, Anomen was about to tell her it wasn't working, when she spoke.

'Well, I feel the sun on my skin.'

And all of a sudden, he felt it too. Something so ordinary that he hadn't even considered it, and yet there it was. A soft, comforting warmth that seemed to blanket his bare arms and face. He screwed his eyes shut, focusing on the feeling, afraid he would lose it again.

'I feel the sun on my skin and the breeze in my hair. I am surrounded by the life of the trees and the vastness of the sky.' Fritha continued, her voice quiet and soothing, drifting round him along with these usually disregarded sensations. 'You must remember these things, Anomen, when you get too focused on the narrow matters of men. You must remember these eternal joys the world can give us.'

'You sound like Jaheira.'

Fritha laughed lightly.

'Gods help me, I do, don't I? Well, I can take pleasure in wine and dancing and clean clothes, so I don't think Silvanus will be pitching up to recruit me just yet.'

He watched her a moment, just lain next to him with her eyes still closed, her hair spilling out across the grass in bright amber tendrils, one hand resting carelessly on her stomach while the other still held her book, a finger within, keeping her page. Anomen swallowed and found his voice.

'I- I should get back to the others, I've yet to pack.'

Fritha said nothing, just made an vague noise of assent and gently patted his hand, not even opening her eyes as he rose and moved off through the trees.

Anomen shook his head as he walked. His stomach, not so long ago unpleasantly empty, now felt as though it had been filled with live snakes.

Part of him did not like Fritha like this, so wise and reassuring. He found things much easier when she was constantly reminding him what an idiot she was. Because when you found yourself considering how kind and full of serenity someone was, it was only a short step from there to considering how pretty they were. And how small and delicate their mouth looked when they weren't laughing their head off. Or how bright and clear their eyes seemed when they were narrowed with giggling.

He glanced back, half-hoping to catch another glimpse of her, but the trees had closed in behind him and the glade was gone from view.