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

Author's note: Not a lot to say really, but 'tis the season and all that, so thanks for reading and Merry Christmas.

Remember me

It was late afternoon, another day of walking almost behind them, the sky above a brindled blue grey and hazy in a way that made it difficult to tell the clouds from sky. Fritha spent a while trying though, gazing up through the canopy as she walked at the back of the group with Haer'Dalis in silence. There had been a distinct atmosphere over the camp that morning, the previous night's argument still fresh in everyone's minds and more than a little of this coldness was being directed the bard's way. He himself seemed impervious to it, and though Fritha would have liked nothing better than to believe his mild smile and spend her time alone as she had the day before, she was feeling very much inclined towards Haer'Dalis at the moment and walked with him all the way, sharing talk and stories with a blitheness she certainly did not feel. He had brought her sword back to her after all, something which had led to much trouble for him, and she wanted him to know she appreciated it, even if some of the others were less than happy.

'So,' came a voice and Fritha drew her gaze from the sky to the man next to her, Haer'Dalis smiling slightly as he gestured to the five figures they followed, 'do you think they have forgiven us yet?'

'Do you even care? Such matters are inevitable, sparrow; all things, even friendships, must fall to entropy in the end.'

He raised an eyebrow, looking mildly amused.

'You believe in my dark philosophy?'

Fritha shrugged. 'Haven't seen much to disprove it so far.'

Haer'Dalis laughed, lightly clapping her shoulder.

'Ah, we'll make a Doomguard of you yet!'

Fritha shook her head.

'No, I don't think I could embrace destruction; Aerie is right, it brings too much misery. And,' she continued, sending him a sidelong glance, 'for one supposedly sworn to hastening such things himself, I haven't seen much of it from you so far.'

Haer'Dalis smiled wryly, looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

'Ah yes, some of our faction are more devoted to this path than others. I have always found the world around me needs very little encouragement toward its own destruction.'

'Hear, hear!' laughed Fritha ruefully, 'Though I wonder why you would give Aerie the impression you were a heartless monster when that isn't actually so.'

The bard shrugged. 'The day had been a trying one and I was feeling bitter and venomous; first the knightling, then the druid needling me. And you, so sad and far removed from your usual good humour.'

Fritha took a moment to reply to this; she felt rather touched he would care.

'You're very sweet to worry, but you shouldn't; I'm fine,' she lied mildly. 'And you certainly shouldn't let it cause trouble between you and Aerie.'

'Ha! The dove and I need no help there!' Haer'Dalis shook his head, sighing deeply. 'Aerie is sweet and I love the care for others she carries in her heart, but her view of the world is so narrow as to stifle me. I wanted to shake her beliefs, show her another path. Different men need different philosophies and she needed a taste of the one that serves well enough for the man she loves.' He laughed bitterly. 'Or perhaps that should be loved.'

Fritha sent him a gentle smile.

'Well, I don't think Aerie muchlikes you at the moment, but I doubt such a quarrel would do any permanent harm to her regard –once she knows the truth of it, that is.'

'Truth, damn truth; I've not the stomach for it! Feed me falsehoods, dear girl, for I've always had a sweet tooth.'

Fritha laughed.

'The Neried and the Sailor, act one, scene… oh, I forget the scene.'

'Four,' he supplied promptly, 'but well done anyway. For one who does not care for the theatre you have a broad grasp of its works.'

'Ah, you have me all wrong, sparrow, it is the singing I like, not the acting. As for The Neried, that was always one of my favourites. The way it opens; the first song is so bright and rousing.'

Haer'Dalis grinned, drawing a deep breath before-

'Oh, good and merry folk of Salsport, who keep your sails so high,'

And Fritha felt herself smiling genuinely for the first time that day as she drew a breath to join him.

'Who never ever tremor under inclement weather, or any stormy sky.'

xxx

Anomen scanned the treetops as they walked, trying to catch a glimpse of battlements. Fritha had informed them when they'd left Trademeet that she had agreed to deliver something to Nalia's aunt, the group heading south west through the forests and they were due to arrive soon, something which was all too welcome as he considered the loud albeit tuneful commotion behind him. Anomen glanced back at a familiar laugh to see Fritha giggling away as Haer'Dalis sang a piece that was far too high for him, the man's soprano easily constituting some form of aural torture, the effeminate gestures he was making merely adding to the spectacle. For all Haer'Dalis's claims of friendship, Anomen felt the pair were growing very close since Nalia's abrupt departure and he was reminded forcibly of the scene that had greeted him the previous afternoon, Fritha stood in the bard's arms, and the squire did not like to contemplate what could have happened had he not arrived when he did.

As for that day, Haer'Dalis had been keeping very much to himself since last night's quarrel, something Anomen would have liked to attribute to some shame on his part, though he knew it was not so. Fritha, of course, had always been loathed to let anyone suffer alone, however deserved, and had seemed resolved to keep him company. Anomen frowned to himself. Though the girl had not said she had agreed with the tiefling last night, she had not been anywhere near as appalled as Anomen would have expected, and the lack of protest that the tiefling's abhorrent views received from some quarters had been quite disturbing. Another reminder perhaps, that in a group of tree-worshipers and faithless, he and Aerie were the group's only moral compass. Anomen squared his shoulders unconsciously; he would not fail them.

As for the pair themselves, Fritha and Haer'Dalis had been walking together at the back of the group all day as quiet as mice; that was, until they had started singing. And that had been the beginning of what Anomen had considered to be a very long few miles as they walked the last hour or so to the keep, the pair behind them taking it upon themselves to sing the entire score of the usual thirty strong cast of The Neried and the Sailor between them.

They had sung the Mermaids' Aria, which Haer'Dalis had performed disturbingly well. They had sung the Sailors' Chorus with which Fritha had had quite a bit of trouble but only due to all her giggling. And they were now on the final madrigal as they stepped into the large clearing in which stood the keep, pale grey stone against a gloaming sky.

'With merry soooong,'

'With merry song and laughter gay,'

'We celebraaaate,'

'We celebrate their wedding day,'

'With merry song and laughter gay,'

'We celebrate their wedding day,'

'Their weeediiiing day!'

The final note seemed to hang a moment in the still air, the silence it faded to somehow filling Anomen with a sense of foreboding. Fritha was laughing lightly with the tiefling, looking pink and breathless, her smile fading as she turned and let her eyes drift over the stone battlements above them, and it seemed the air turned colder as she set off across the drawbridge.

'Come on.'

xxx

The guards recognised them from before, the men showing them into the courtyard where a maid with a head of brown ringlets took them through to the kitchens, the girl leaving them instantly to go and inform Nalia's aunt of their arrival. The kitchens were warm compared to the cool dusk outside, a good fire roaring in the grate while around the scrubbed wooden table a handful of servants were sat preparing the evening meal, overseen by a stout old woman who was sat in a sagging armchair by the hearth, her grey hair braided and coiled about her head. She had yet to notice them enter, half-turned and speaking to the man behind her as she was, his arms full of firewood and Fritha recognised him as Daleson, the Keep's old groundsman.

'That should be enough now, Daleson, I should imagine.'

He nodded once, about to reply when he noticed them crowded in the open doorway, the old woman turning to them as well.

'Well, look who it is,' she greeted warmly, standing up to welcome them inside, 'the good folk who came with the young Lady Nalia to rout those trolls so long ago. I am Elise, the cook here. You lot shift yourselves,' she ordered to those about the table, 'let the good folk sit down. Abbey, put some tea on, there's a good girl. So,' she continued as she sank stiffly back into her chair, 'what brings you all back here?'

Fritha sank onto the newly vacated bench, the displaced servants now stood about a high workbench on the other side of the kitchen, apparently absorbed in their work once more, though she could tell by their occasional glances they too were waiting to hear her answer.

'We have been asked to deliver a letter to your mistress.'

'Really now?' Elise confirmed, leaning forward eagerly, 'It wouldn't have anything to do with that Roenall boy, would it?'

'You know we're not supposed to be talking about that, Elise,' came Daleson gruffly from where he was now sat by the hearth. Elise just snorted though.

'Bah, what are they going to do, turf me out? I've been here longer than any of them including the good Lord de'Arnise, Gods keep him. I am half glad he is not around to see the shame and misery that Roenall boy brought to his lands.' She shook her head; seemingly, both angered and saddened by what had happed there. 'Things were fine for the first tenday, everyone just repairing the damage those trolls had done and working on getting things back to normal. It was only after his parents left him to run the place alone that things changed. The boy put the tax up, to cover the repairs on the keep, so he said. Then not a month after, when we had all that rain, a blight hit the farmers who tenant the lands here and half their crop of winter potatoes was lost. They sent their representatives asking for help and he would not hear them, would not even grant them an audience, the arrogant swine! And then there were the people he kept bringing here,' she turned in her seat to send a dark look to the old man behind her, 'You can't say you turned a blind eye to them, eh, Daleson?'

'No, I don't suppose I did,' he answered gruffly.

'People?' came Aerie and Elise turned back to them nodding grimly.

'Aye, people, all with the same sad, broken look. We weren't allowed to talk to them and they'd only ever stay the night before they'd be shipped off again come the morn. Peter tried to ask about them and he was out of here so fast his feet didn't touch the floor. The rest of us knew to keep our tongues then.'

A round of nodding followed this, the servants sending each other knowing looks and Fritha could almost feel how it must have been there under Isea, the heavy oppressive silence over the keep, no one daring to even breath through fear of losing their livelihood. As for the people, she had a pretty good idea who they had been, her mind draw back to that opulent study and the programs from the Calimport slave auctions. Fritha frowned.

'And what did the Lady Delcia say about all this?'

'Well, she never said anything thing to us, but I've a feeling she had words with the boy and was told to mind her own. She was not happy with how things were being run, but what could she do? She is allowed to stay here by grace of the boy Roenall, or his father more is like. She is as much a prisoner of circumstance as the rest of us.'

Elise shook her head, sad for a moment, before she slapped her hands onto her knees and brightened, clearly trying to disperse the air of melancholy her words had brought.

'Ah, but such times I hope are behind us. The boy Isea returned to his Athkatlan house, oh, over a fortnight ago now, as he usually did for the middle three days in every tenday to attend to his businesses there, only this time he did not return… They tried to hush it up, but we found out anyway; arrested and for piracy and slaving no less!' She gave a bark of bitter laughter. 'If I could have believed it of anyone, it would have been him! His father, the Lord Roenall came back here for a while to run things in his absence, talking to the local farmers and some of the servants about what had been happening and perhaps he did not like what he found out, because he left soon after. Now everything is run by his steward, Bernart, who keeps to himself and to his room for the most part and I can't say I'm sorry in either case!'

There was a round of quiet laughter at her triumphant look that was cut off suddenly as the door opened, the brown-haired maid appearing once more.

'I have spoken to the Lady Delcia, m'lady; she will meet with you in the solar.'

The maid beckoned to her and Fritha followed the girl as she bustled up the stairs and along hallway after hallway. Fritha could see no sign of the damage wrought by the trolls, the corridors she was led down more opulently appointed than she suspected Lord de'Arnise would have had them, as though even the memory of the siege could be erased with enough fine rugs and tapestries.

'Here we are, m'lady,' came the maid before her and Fritha glanced up to see they had arrived, the polished dark wooden doors of the solar looming before them.

The maid knocked twice before opening them to show her inside, Lady Delcia immediately obvious, the old woman's white wimple a sail upon a sea of green. She was sat stiffly on an ornate wooden bench that had been draped with a mantle of dark blue velvet, and Fritha could tell she had not been there long by the way she had not yet succumbed to the chill and wrapped it about her. She looked older than Fritha had remembered her, but just as austere, the woman sending her a cold look as she waited for the maid to bob a curtsey and disappear, shutting the doors behind her.

'So…' Delcia began crisply, 'you have returned…'

Fritha nodded once, more than ready to have this audience over with, and promptly passing her the thick square of parchment.

'Yes, I have a letter from your niece, m'lady.'

Delcia's demeanour changed instantly, the cold façade slipping as she raised a hand to her chest.

'Nalia? She- She is alive? I had heard rumours…'

'Yes, m'lady, she has joined an Illmateran orphanage just north of Trademeet.'

A moment for this to register, before the woman straightened in her chair, eyes blazing.

'She would not have even left here, had it not been for your doing! Here,' Delcia snapped, making to hand her a small purse, 'take this and go!'

'Keep your gold!' Fritha spat, resisting the urge to knock it roughly from her hand, 'I delivered that because she asked me to, no more. A good evening to you.'

She turned on her heel ready to march out, though she did not get one step before Delcia's voice halted her, the woman quieter than before.

'Nalia- she told me it was you who convinced her to visit me the day after the keep was won…' Fritha turned back in time to see Delcia smile and shake her head. 'She can be so stubborn sometimes; takes after her father like that…'

The woman sighed, her face showing a regret that came from rash decisions made in anger, before she straightened and the aloofness was about her once more, though her attitude seemed much change.

'I thank you for the message. Tell Charlotte to make up the guest rooms in the West Tower- that is, if you will be staying the night.'

Fritha dipped a polite bow.

'M'lady.'

Fritha turned to go again, the rustle of parchment behind signalling the woman had turned her attention to the letter when-

'Oh, wait!'

Fritha turned back to see Delcia leaning forward, her outstretched hand holding another square of fine parchment.

'Inside it, a note for you.'

xxx

Fritha stepped out into the hall and drew the door shut behind her without a glance, all her focus on the smooth square of folded parchment she held, her name written upon one side in a familiar flowing hand and she did not notice someone was before her until they spoke.

'You all right there, m'lady?'

Fritha glanced up with a start, instantly pushing the letter into her pocket as she came face to face with, not the maid but, Elise, the old cook.

'I thought I'd come along to make sure you were all right, m'lady,' she confessed as they set off back to the kitchens together, the woman glancing warily behind her as she added, '-the Lady Delcia can have a bit of a sharp tongue when she sets her hat that way.'

Fritha shook her head, trying to summon a bright smile, all the time very aware of the parchment in her pocket.

'No, no, the lady was most courteous; she has invited us to stay the night.'

Elise's woolly eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hair.

'Staying are you? By, what did you do, offer to raise our good dead lord back to the living?'

Fritha shrugged, not entirely sure herself.

'Nothing really, just brought a letter from her niece.'

'Aye, well, that'll have done it,' said Elise wisely, 'She's missed the young Lady Nalia more than she'd admit to in a thousand lifetimes. West Tower, did she say? Right, I'll send Charlotte up there then to get the fires lit. Now, we don't usually use the main hall anymore since the Roenalls left. M'lady Delcia takes all her meals in her room…'

'I'm sure we would be happy to join you in the kitchens for dinner, madam,' offered Fritha after a moment. The woman nodded, clearly hoping for this and looking pleased her insinuation had been heeded.

'Good, good, saves me a lot of bother, I can tell you. Here we are, m'lady.'

She pushed open the door to the kitchens and stepped back to allow her to enter first, Fritha moving back over to the table to tell the other's of Delcia's offer, the knot of servants who had been idly chatting by the fireplace suddenly returning to their previous industry as Elise stalked in, the woman genially barking out orders as she passed them on her way into the pantry.

xxx

Fritha leant back against the high curved edge of the large copper bath she was sat in. The room about her was not her own one at the keep, but a dedicated washroom, all tiled floor and walls with the facilities on hand to collect and heat the large qualities of water needed for bathing. The maids, or Abbey and Charlotte as she now knew them, had kindly prepared a bath each for her and Aerie when she had asked about it, the girls even offering to stay and attend them as they washed, something she knew was usual enough in noble circles, though Fritha had assured them they would manage fine on their own. She glanced to the girl in the bath a few feet from hers, just a pale golden head above the shimmering water. She and Aerie hadn't really spoken since leaving Trademeet and now Nalia had gone Fritha realised just how little her and the elf's friendship had actually advanced, especially since Haer'Dalis had joined their company and that rift had been opened between them.

Fritha sat slowly, trying not to splash too much water over the sides as she knelt up, taking up the soap to continue her washing. There was a large mirror leant against the wall opposite the fireplace and more out of curiosity than any real vanity, Fritha turned to catch a glimpse of the reflection of her bared back. As she had thought, the last of the scars Irenicus had given her had faded now, her shoulders as smooth and unmarked as they had ever been; all she had left were the memories.

'Your skin is lovely,' came a voice behind her and Fritha sat down with a start, sloping water across the tiled floor. She had quite forgotten she wasn't alone and she turned to find Aerie looking embarrassed. 'Oh sorry, Fritha, I didn't mean to look, I-'

'It's fine, Aerie, I hardly care,' Fritha dismissed casually, very aware her words were contrary to her reaction.

'I don't like most people looking at me undressed either,' the girl continued quietly, her gaze dropped to her hands. 'There- there is scarring where they took my wings.'

Fritha sighed, feeling suddenly old. 'I'm sorry, Aerie.'

The elf just smiled though, her eyes untouched by the gesture.

'I know it's silly to even think about it, but sometimes I wish they weren't there. Do- do you have a lot of scars, Fritha?'

Fritha sighed again and more deeply this time as she leaned back against the bath's beaten copper rim.

'No… I don't have any, not one.'

Aerie turned to her sharply.

'None? But, you-you must have. I know you've been wounded…'

'Well, yes, and you should have seen my back when we first escaped that dungeon: it looked like a street map of Calimport. But I don't scar; however bad, however deep, they just fade away without a trace.'

'But how?'

Fritha swallowed though her voice remained even.

'I don't know.'

Aerie turned away again and she heard the elf sigh.

'I wish I was like that.'

Fritha smiled faintly to herself.

'Be careful what you wish for, Aerie, everything has a price.'

Silence descended once more between them, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the lapping water. Fritha looked down at a handful of shrivelled fingers. This bath had not been the relaxing experience she had been hoping for and, despite the fire, the water was cooling fast.

'Well, I think that's me about done,' she said finally, carefully stepping from the bath to quickly dry herself and struggle into one of the robes the maids had left for them.

'Oh, are you finished?' came Aerie, starting as though in a dream, 'I am too; I can help you comb your hair out if you would like.'

Fritha thanked her and it was only moments later they were both robed and sat before the fire, Fritha cross-legged while Aerie knelt behind her, both working to detangle her mass of wet curls, and Fritha was just beginning to find some of the peace that had so far eluded her when-

'Do you think Haer'Dalis thinks about them? My scars, I mean.'

Fritha felt an unpleasant sense of unease creep over her at the intimacy of the question, voice quiet as she answered.

'I- I don't know… Aerie, what is wrong with you two at the moment?'

'Oh, I don't want to talk about it,' she sighed tersely and Fritha sighed as well.

'Fine.'

Another long pause between them, the pair working in silence, Fritha's pace somewhat increased; Aerie was in an odd mood and, selfish though it was, Fritha wasn't sure she wanted to be alone with her much longer.

'Did you know he apologised to me for our quarrel the other night?'

Fritha blinked owlishly. It took a moment for her meaning to register, the girl feeling rather caught out by Aerie's tone; she certainly didn't sound happy with the bard's contrition.

'Oh, well, I knew he was planning to; when did that happen?'

'He came to my room just after dinner, while we were waiting for the water to be heated,' Aerie answered, her voice rising with her temper and Fritha felt herself trying not to wince, the elf's brushing becoming more vigorous with every stroke. 'He told me about his true feelings as Doomguard, that he had just exaggerated his beliefs for argument's sake!'

'Oh, well-'

'He said that he had been angry that I was being so narrow-minded about it all!'

'Well, you rather ha-'

'And when I had been trying to sympathise about his beliefs too, after his mother and everything.'

'Aerie, this is really none-'

'I can't believe he would just lie to me like that!'

'Aerie-'

'And is it not bad enough he embraces such destruction?'

'Aerie-'

'Doesn't he see the misery it causes?'

'Aerie!' Fritha shouted, pulling away from her as a particularly vicious stroke of the hairbrush brought tears to her eyes. Aerie stared down at her, seemingly surprised, before realisation dawned and her face fell.

'Oh! Oh, Fritha, I'm sorry,' she cried, sitting back to raise a hand to her face as she began to cry and Fritha turned quickly, gently easing the brush from her hand and putting an arm about her.

'Oh, come now, Aerie, it's all right,' she soothed, waiting until the girl had calmed slightly before she continued. 'Aerie, I really don't understand why you are getting so upset about this. You knew he was of the Doomguard when you met him, you can't now expect him to change all that he is.'

Aerie pulled away from her roughly.

'I did not know that his being a Doomguard meant he was working to hasten the world's ruin regardless of others' suffering!'

'Now, Aerie, he's already told you he doesn't really believe that.'

'So you don't care that he advocates destruction and evil and-'

'Aerie, calm down…' Fritha soothed, taking her arm again, 'there is no more or less destruction in the world for whatever Haer'Dalis believes of it. I know he thinks the universe is unravelling, but what does it matter? I doubt either of you will live to see whether he's right or not.'

'He says our love is doomed to end as well!' Aerie cried, her voice wavering with angry tears. Fritha smiled slightly.

'Well, then all you can do is prove him wrong.'

Aerie sniffed, nodding her head.

'I know, and what you say makes sense, but what if he's right? This, what Haer'Dalis and I have, it is so different from what I was expecting. I didn't think it would be like this when I was younger. I thought that once I had met someone, found love, that it would be perfect. But it is not. I feel so distant from him and we are so very different; I can only look at our future together and see the troubles to come.'

'Oh Aerie,' Fritha laughed gently, giving her shoulders a squeeze, 'I'm going to ban you from reading anymore of those silly romance stories if this is what's going to happen. Love is not perfect; it would not be half as wonderful if it were. It is something that has to be worked at and nurtured, that is why it means so much to those who have it. I don't doubt there will troubles to come for all of us in the future, but that does not mean your love will be a casualty.' Fritha sent the girl a stern look. 'And Haer'Dalisdoes love you, of that I am sure, he just finds your views a little… stifling sometimes. Have you actually sat down and spoken to him about his philosophy? It is quite hopeful in its way: they only believe in destruction as a source of rebirth, this flawed universe ending to make way for another free of imperfection. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes only greater and brighter than before.'

'He told you that?' Aerie questioned and Fritha nodded, the elf continuing crossly, 'See, he will talk to you, why not me?'

Fritha shrugged, knowing she may well regret this.

'Well, perhaps because he knows I will just accept anything he says, without anger or censure.' She sent Aerie a shrewd look. 'You wish to rail against death and destruction, fair enough -he doesn't get angry with you for it, does he? Aerie, do you love him?'

'Yes, of course I do,' she sighed tersely, though it lacked her previous anger. Fritha sighed as well, standing to move over to her clothes and begin to dress.

'Then I am really not sure what else you need to know.'

xxx

Jaheira stretched slightly, feeling warm and almost sleepy as she watched the fire burn lower. After dinner she had found herself suddenly alone, the girls predictably disappearing off for a wash, Anomen retiring to his room to make his prayers, while Minsc and Cernd had gone for a walk about the small grounds behind the keep before the light failed completely. Cernd and Minsc had rather hit it off that day, the druid very interested in Boo; the creature, for all its appearances of being just an ordinary hamster had apparently lived a surprisingly long time.

They had invited her to join them but she had refused, the maid, Abbey showing her to the library where four deep armchairs and a bench had been set before the newly lit fire and there she had been settled ever since. That Jaheira was truly at home out in the natural world was so, but that did not mean she could not occasionally enjoy such moments as this, sat comfortably before a fire surrounded by books and opulence. The room was small but not cramped, bookcases against two of the walls while a large writing desk stood before the only window. It reminded her of the few occasions she had visited Candlekeep, and she wondered if Fritha would see the comparison too, Jaheira given no more time to consider this as the door opened and the two girls appeared, both long-faced and red-eyed.

'By Silvanus, look at the state of you both! Have you two been howling over another one of those books?'

Aerie said nothing, but Fritha grinned broadly.

'Certainly have.'

They took seats opposite her, both combing out their hair before the fire, though Aerie did not linger long after hers was dry, the girl excusing herself to retire, leaving Jaheira and Fritha alone. Jaheira shifted slightly in her chair, her leg nearest the fire overly hot.

'I was just thinking how this place reminded me of another grand library.'

Fritha clearly heard her allusion, giving an appraising glance about her before shaking her head genially.

'No, not enough books. And none of the reading rooms were ever this comfortable. In the winter, that old miser Ulraunt wouldn't allow the fires lit unless ice was forming inside the windows.'

Jaheira smiled slightly. 'It sounds as though you would have changed a few things about your old home.'

Fritha gave a bark of laughter that faded to a wistful sigh.

'Ah, not for all the world. Though I can certainly see why Nalia would want to return here.'

'You still think of her a lot?'

The girl smiled faintly.

'Only in that briefperiod from sunrise to sunset. It is getting easier though. Whenever I start to miss her, I try to think of her there, warm and dry, getting to play with the children everyday. I can't help but be happy for her and perhaps I can even join her there once we have Imoen back. Ah, she draws ever closer to us; we've such a hoard to give to Gaelen when we return to the slums.'

Fritha smiled absently, clearly letting her mind drift off to some pleasant daydream and Jaheira swallowed dryly. Something else might be awaiting the girl's return to the city as well; Galvarey's last, and so far unheeded, request for another meeting pressing on Jaheira even more heavily now they had left Trademeet.

'Fritha, when we return to Athkatla, I, well-'

'Good evening, ladies,' greeted a voice behind them, Jaheira turning with a start to see Anomen stood over them; she had not even heard him enter.

'Hello Anomen, you found us all right then?' greeted Fritha brightly.

'Yes, thank you, my lady, one of the servants told me you were here.'

Fritha smiled.

'Good. Anyway, you were saying something about the city, Jaheira?'

Jaheira felt her stomach tighten, glancing from her to the squire before she finally shook her head.

'No. No, it can wait. Goodnight, both of you.'

Fritha watched her go, thoughts of Nalia brought to the fore again as she'd spent a blissful few moments imagining she, her and Imoen all living at the orphanage together. She shifted in her chair, feeling the square of parchment crackle in her pocket, still unopened, part of her wanting so desperately to know what it held, the rest of her wanting to prolong this moment forever, the letter's contents still undecided while the seal remained unbroken.

'Are you well, my lady?' came a deep voice and she glanced up to see Anomen watching her. She sighed, forcing a smile as she turned to him.

'Oh, yes, fine, fine. Just- no, it's nothing, just feeling a bit old today, I suppose. I'm sure I'll be better after a good night's sleep and if we set out early tomorrow, we can easily make Athkatla by nightfall.'

Anomen swallowed, hearing her unspoken reassurance that they would return to the city in time for his judgement.

'I think you might be a touch optimistic in your timings, my lady; the days are growing much shorter now that the winter approaches. Do not worry, the ceremonies do not even begin until noon.'

She looked at him, face unreadable in the firelight.

'When you become a knight,' she began eventually and he smiled at her very deliberate phrasing, 'will you have to leave us to serve the Order, to go on campaign or something like that?'

'I am not sure, my lady. They would be well within their rights if they wished to send me; I would have much less freedom than I do now. But I will ask them if I can stay with you. We do good work, I do not believe they would refuse me,' he finished with much more confidence than he felt.

'Good, we would be hard pressed to replace you,' she said mildly and Anomen smiled, the compliment quite unexpected, though his enjoyment was short-lived as the girl rose, swinging the weight of hair from her shoulders as she stood.

'Well, I should probably retire as well. Goodnight Anomen.'

xxx

The door was barely shut behind her before her hands were fumbling at her pocket for the letter, the girl instantly desperate to read it now she had decided it was finally to be opened. Fritha drew out the thick parchment square, her fingers almost trembling as she broke the red wax seal and began to read the familiar flowing hand.

"My dearest Fritha,

If you are reading this, then you are likely at the keep and my Aunt has relented to let you stay as I had hoped. She is a strict woman, but she does observe propriety and has even been known to show kindness when it comes to the hospitality owed to those who come in service to our house.

Though, I must add here that if this is not you, Fritha, but in fact you, Auntie, I take the opportunity to tell you you're an interfering old baggage who should be ashamed at opening others' personal correspondences!"

Fritha laughed wetly, delight and sadness both welling within her as she lost herself in thoughts of her friend, when a noise through the door at her back made her start. She knew instantly it was only Anomen, probably adding more wood to the fire by the sound of it, but it had brought her back to the world with a jolt and she suddenly realised she did not want to be caught so, there in the hallway. There was only one place she should read the hand of one she held so dear...

Nalia's room seemed unchanged since the brief glimpse Fritha had seen of it at their last visit to the keep, though then it had had Nalia rushing about it after her fight with her aunt, furiously throwing things into a bag as she made to leave her home, seemingly for good. It was in the east tower of the keep and high enough to have been allowed windows of a decent size; Nalia had always liked the sun in the mornings, she had said it put her in the good frame of mind. The girl would have certainly been happy waking there; three arched windows lined the eastern wall, each glazed, with shutters and curtains on either side. A huge bed with deep blue hangings dominated the room, the austere opulence of the frame and canopy somewhat softened by the handmade patchwork quilt that looked as old as Nalia herself.

Against the northern wall was a bookcase, the majority of volumes on it reflecting Nalia's fascination with alchemy, while next to it was a dresser covered in bottles of scent and small ornately carved boxes; the two aspects of her friend's life sat neatly side by side. Fritha smiled faintly, crossing to the bed and sinking on to the covers before going back to the parchment in her hand.

"Anyway, assuming this is you, Fritha, well, I am sure you can tell by all my crossings-out that I just don't know what to say. As I write this I have yet to even leave my room, but I know our parting is immanent and, well, I just want you to know I miss you. I probably miss you even more terribly by the time this is in your hands. These words may seem empty knowing it was I who left you, but I mean them and I hope one day soon we will be reunited in more favourable circumstances, where our duties do not take priority to our hearts.

Ah, I could write for pages and pages in this vein, but I am running out of time (and parchment) so I must move on to the real reason for this letter. I suppose I could just tell you this before I leave, but I recalled what you said once about hating having your 'hopes built up only to have them crushed' (you always did have a flair for the dramatic, didn't you?) Now, I don't know where you will be when you open this, but it will make more sense if you are in my room.

If you look to the middle window there should be a chest beneath it, carved with scenes of animals."

Fritha glanced up, her eyes falling almost instantly on the wooden chest set beneath one of the arched windows, the twilight sky beyond already speckled with a few young stars. She crossed to it, kneeling to run light fingers over the smooth rosewood lid, the side panels richly carved, covered in work of wild animals and leaves all wrought in painstaking detail. Fritha allowed herself a smile at the sprinkling of whiskers on a sleeping leopard before she finally lifted the lid, the half-light falling over a myriad of silk and linen; gowns, petticoats and sashes neatly folded and packed within, a jewel-like mix of blues and greens and ambers.

"It used to be my old toy box when I was very small, but in more recent years it has become a store for all the old gowns that I've grown out of. Take as many as you please, dearest, it would do my heart good to think of you with them, letting them live as soubrettes rather than mouldering away as the old maids you once described. In particular, there was a dark green one that I would sometimes imagine you in, a little grand for the everyday, but perhaps you could convince that wayward bard to take you somewhere appropriate."

The letter still clutched in one hand, Fritha knelt up slightly, searching through the chest with gentle undisruptive movements until her hand finally closed about the dress Nalia had described, Fritha pulling it to the top and opening it out as best she could. It was a deep forest green, the raw silk holding a dull sheen that had a rich depth all of its own and from what Fritha could see, the style would not have looked out of place at the Ducal Palace. The gown was simplicity itself, a very full skirt pleated and gathered to fit a narrow bodice, the richness of the fabric and quality of the cut removing the need for any further decorations.

Fritha smoothed a hand over the material, the light catching at the silk as it moved, shimmering like the iridescent hide of a dragonfly. She dropped her attention back to the letter she held.

"Well, as you know now, time is all too swiftly passing and I've still yet to find you before I leave.

Know that you are in my thoughts and I remain, as ever,

Your devoted friend

Nalia "

Fritha ran a thumb lightly over the name, part of her wanting to read the letter over and over again and cling to that fleeting feeling that the girl was still in some part with her. But it was all in vain and she knew it.

Fritha closed the chest, pillowed her head on her arms and wept.

xxx

Cernd gazed up at the clouds that drifted overhead, the pale half moon giving them a silver cast as they passed across its glow. It would not be full for a few days yet and their group would be within the city by then, but even when the time came he had his herbs and meditations to help him cope with those worst three days.

Three days. The length of time it would have taken for them to reach the city.

Cernd pulled his mind away from this thought, dropping his attention to the grounds about him, the world seeming so much larger from where he was, sat beneath an apple tree in the keep's small gardens, the castle looming at his back while before him he could just see the forest's edge, the stout trunks like the silver columns of some great temple. The small grounds behind the keep were little more than an orchard and herb garden and he assumed the kitchens must have got most of their produce from the local tenant farms. He looked up and down the neat straight row of fruit trees, a contrast to the towering majesty of the forest that began again but a few yards away. Cernd knew well which he preferred but it was still good to be outside, the cold night air calming his heart like nothing else could.

In spite of all his reasoning, he was nervous about his return to Athkatla, his imminent arrival at the city stirring up old memories, and they rose like clouds of insects when one walked through long grass, buzzing about his head tormenting him. He despised Athkatla just as he despised any city, with all its noise and crowds and not enough green to sooth the eyes. But for Athkatla, it was more than that. A part of him feared it, feared what he would return to and that unrest he felt made him hate the place all the more.

Cernd sighed, dropping his gaze to his hands, strong and gnarled and looking as though they should belong to someone much older than he.

He had been a different person back then, and though he had hated the city, it had been his home for nigh on thirty years while he had still been trying to be the man everyone had expected him to be, before his lycanthropy had forever decided the path of his life. He had had friends there too, good friends, and his thoughts turned as they often did on nights like this to Galia. Was she with another now? It was quite possible, for she was pretty enough, with those soft hazel eyes and that shinning curtain of long straight hair, dark and rich as ebony wood.

Leaving her had been the hardest part of all, and he could still see with clarity the sadly resigned look she had given over the rim of her cup when he had finally told her on that fateful morning as they had taken breakfast together at their old home. He recalled there had been a pause, the shouts of the merchants setting up in the Promenade below mixing with the cries of the herring gulls, before Galia had just nodded once and told him she understood, and they had finished their breakfast in polite talk, with her asking him when he planned to leave and where he would go.

But then that had always been her way, so mild and strong, prepared to accept whatever the Fates sent her without complaint. And so they had parted on good terms, or as well as could have been hoped for, with him taking little more than his belongings and leaving her the house and the business, their serving woman, Fennecia, agreeing to help with the work in his absence.

He felt a twinge as he wondered if they were there still, the pair of them running the pottery together. He could go and visit the place if he was that curious, though he knew he never would. But if he and Galia were to meet by chance in the city, would he be pleased by the encounter? It would be nice to see that she was well and happy, but in the end, it could just make things worse, dredging up memories and feeling that were best left in the past. Galia had been his wife for almost a decade, leaving her had been like cutting out a part of himself and yet he had still gone in the end; the yearning to serve Nature had been too strong.

It was as she had once said: it was not that he had not loved her; just that he had not loved her enough.

Cernd sighed again, shaking his head. Dwelling on seasons past like this would do nothing but worsen his feelings of disquiet. He had hoped that travelling with this group would have proved to be enough of a distraction from his worries, the few days journey to the city spent getting better acquainted with them all, but it had not been so. Nothing had felt quite right since they had left Trademeet, an underlying tension spanning the group and he could sense the unrest between them, as though something had been thrown out of balance. He had worried at first that as the newcomer it was his fault, but as time had gone on he had come to decide it lay elsewhere, though this was making the sharp arguments and long silences no easier to bear.

Even Jaheira, the one who had once been so welcoming, seemed ill at ease, though she hid it better than the others, and his mind was drawn to the golden-haired girl who had first caught his interest all those days ago. Aerie had barely spoken to him since leaving Trademeet and not through any lack of his trying either. He was sure the argument she had had with the tiefling the previous day was at least partially to blame, though she had hardly been responsive before then and Cernd had the feeling that whatever could have grown between them would not blossom this time.

And perhaps such was for the best too, especially when the group was already so fractured; the service of the greater balance was always his first thought.

In fact, the only man who seemed unaffected by this general disquiet was Minsc, the ranger as amiable and willing to talk as he had ever been. They had spoken much that day, his initial interest in the man's hamster companion sparking an unlikely friendship and Cernd had found they had much in common, both coming from cooler climes with a sworn duty to protect the fragile balance of those wilder places. The man had joined him out there for a short time too, the pair just walking about the grounds as they continued their discourse. Cernd had asked him about how he had come to be in that company, Minsc explaining of his Dejamma and the loss of his ward, Dynaheir, at the hands of the mage they hunted now. Though Minsc, like Jaheira, seemed happy to redirect their talk when his questions had turned to their leader and the man had excused himself soon after, leaving Cernd to settle in the orchard alone.

Cernd frowned slightly, feeling his nerves anew as he recalled the pale quiet girl who seemed to hold such an influence on those around her, whether realised or not. If he was honest, she was as much a reason for his wishing to travel with them as the one he had give to Jaheira. There was something unnatural about the girl. He had sensed it from almost their first meeting and unless he was mistaken, it was something some of the others did not want him to know more of.

She seemed different from the tiefling, but not in any way he could place. Perhaps she could trace dragon's blood somewhere in her ancestry, or possibly she was of the Fey. Whatever it was, the effects seemed all too plain to him. That group was such a strange mix of differing peoples and yet they all seemed linked to her in someway, as though her own Fate drew others into it, forever entwining their paths for then on. If such were true it was something anyone with a concern for the greater balance would wish to observe and he wondered again at the loyalty of some of the others; could Jaheira and Minsc, too, follow for this reason?

Cernd shook his head. Whatever it was, he had long ago decided quite firmly on the path his life would take, cutting more binding ties than anything this group could no doubt get him embroiled in. Whatever the Fates had in store, he would always follow his own path.