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 Beer Barrel Polka by Lew Brown and Wladimir Timm.
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

Moonshine

Haer'Dalis stretched upon the soft quilt, feeling very contented with the world as he watched Aerie's shadow play upon the ceiling, the elf flitting about the room getting ready for the evening's celebrations. She was at the end of the bed now, rooting in her pack, dressed in only in her fine white slip, her hair still pinned haphazardly out of the way from when she had taken her bath and seemingly unconcerned by the scars at her shoulders she would have once gone to any lengths to hide.

'I'm so glad I had my yellow dress cleaned –are you changing as well?'

'No, this sparrow is comfortable in his current plumage.'

Aerie paused in brushing the creases from her robes to send him a pointed look. 'I always liked your blue tunic –and I know for a fact it's clean.'

But the tiefling would not be persuaded, however delicately.

'Truly, Aerie dear? I shall bear that in mind. But as for tonight, I am happy as I am- we bards make our own occasions.'

'Oh, do you now?' she laughed as she pulled the yellow gown over her head and straightened out the skirts to sit at her dresser and make a start on her hair.

Haer'Dalis just smiled. Things were so different now. Aerie was different and yet the same, so confident in herself, so sure of what she wanted and how she intended to pursue it, and their reunion was so much better than he had ever imagined it could have been, the bard each day finding new ways to delight in her. She had shown him the magic she had been studying in his absence: a complicated branch of rune magic quite alien to his own more impulse based abilities, her face aglow as she had explained the possibilities for it and the insights the old witch, Yundra, had offered when Aerie had shared the fruits of her studies.

But perhaps the greatest indicator of the change that had come to their relationship was what she had asked him of his time away from their company: namely, nothing. He had told her on that first day of his stay in Baldur's Gate and she had been content enough with that, the elf unconcerned with what he had done there and who he had met, and for once it had been he who had been pressing for information, asking her what she had done and telling her of his experiences of the Gate, keen to lessen any breach this time apart may have placed between them. And for the first time in his life, he could see a future for them and for the simple fact they no longer needed each other; two independent creatures free and happy in their own lives and paired merely for the sole reason they each both desired to be together.

If all went well, Fritha and her Imoen would soon be reunited and he and Aerie would be free to do as they pleased. The call of Sigil was echoing in his blood once more, and this time he would not be returning alone.

At the dresser, Aerie had finished combing out her hair, the reflection of her face sending him a smile as she moved to re-pin the swathes of golden tresses.

'I think I will wear my hair up tonight.'

'Good, too few get to appreciate the fairness of your neck.'

A thudding on the door cut off any further compliments though, Fritha's voice quite audible through the wood.

'Hurry up, you two - stop kissing and come downstairs.'

Aerie was laughing in to her jar of pomade, Haer'Dalis watching her warm amusement with a smile.

'Ah, the merry little raven; I still find it difficult to believe she has paired herself with our dour knightling.' He gave a pained sigh, 'Such an ill-suited match.'

But Aerie was shaking her head, putting on her earrings as she countered mildly, 'I don't think so. You did not see what he was like; you weren't here-' Her reflection frowned, 'Oh, I did not mean-'

'I know you did not,' said Haer'Dalis, forestalling her regret, 'And you are correct, I was not here. I missed much of what happened.'

Aerie smiled, rising from her chair to sink onto the bed next to him, her eyes soft as she leaned in. 'But you are back now, and that is all that matters.'

Haer'Dalis would have agreed with her, but he suddenly found his lips quite otherwise occupied.

xxx

The common room was busy, tables surrounded by lively knots of mercenaries, merchants and others who had their families in those they travelled with, the maids pausing here and there to share a drink and a tale with their patrons. Valygar let the bright din hang about him unheeded, he and Anomen drinking in companionable silence as they waited on the others, Jaheira and Minsc complementing each other in tunics of rust and green respectively, the pair at the bar talking to Hendak, the aged gladiator looking more animated than usual as he nodded and laughed at some comment of the druid's.

Valygar turned back to his drink. The street beyond the windows next to him was dark and much busier than it would have usually been once the sun had set, people hurrying past on their way to friends' homes or taverns. This was the longest he had spent in the city for a while and the first Feast of the Moon he had spent in Athkatla since his parents had died. He did not usually celebrate the day, finding no pride in reliving the cursed follies of his ancestors, but it was better to be there with this company, however new, than clattering about his estate on his own, his few servants given leave to return home to their own families.

He recalled visiting the house just the previous day, stood in the kitchens, the young cook Mab before him, flushed and defiant as she had almost insisted upon staying there to keep him company, determined he was not to be alone. But he had told her he already had plans about city and in the end she had finally relent to go home and visit her sister. Valygar knew she favoured him, had known ever since she had joined his family's service as a scullery maid so many years before. She was a nice girl and he was not of the beliefs that the nobility and common citizens should "keep to their own", but he had made his decision on this a while ago now, and her hopes were not something to be encouraged. It had been different when Suna had lived. They had shared a mutual understanding that there were some duties which took precedent over their hearts and the oath to end Lavok had still been hanging over his family. But now she was gone and so was the necromancer, and a chance to end the Corthala curse once and for all was too great an opportunity to pass up. He owed it to all those who had been hurt by his family's corruption over the centuries and he would not fail them.

Valygar raised his cup for the last dregs of ale and then thought better of it. He wished his thoughts had not returned to Suna so soon; it felt as though he was dwelling on her. He had already indulged himself that afternoon out in the forests, knelt beneath the trees for over an hour just thinking on her and his mother and father and the many other good people who it seemed magic had stolen from him. There was no god to hear his prayers even if he had the inclination to make them, though he wished in that moment he had had Suna's faith, if only so he could feel closer to her. She had worshiped Mielikki and quite ardently too, though she had never once pressed or even questioned his own beliefs, claiming everyone had to follow their own path in that mild calm way of hers which was always sure to stir his love for her.

'Are we still waiting on the others?' came a voice at his side, and Valygar glanced up to see Jaheira and Minsc, Hendak now busy serving the patrons who were gathering at the bar. 'Ah, and here is one of our stragglers now,' the druid continued and Valygar glanced back to follow her gaze to the stairs Fritha had just tripped down.

She was not wearing the gown she had worn to Deril's, but she looked pretty nevertheless, dressed in a dark red tunic, a pattern of golden oak leaves embroidered about the neck and a wide amber sash tied about her waist, her belts and boots freshly polished and complementing her hair, which was down and falling about her in shining copper waves.

The man sat opposite him was clearly trying to wrestle his smile back from becoming a grin, Anomen murmuring some compliment as she drew to his side, Fritha quite unflustered as she smiled and thanked him.

'Oh, and here are the last of us,' the girl trilled as Aerie and Haer'Dalis appeared on the stairs, Fritha turning back to the table with a smile. 'Well, shall we be off then?'

xxx

Jaheira's stride faltered as two well-wrapped up children fled across her path to crouch in the shadows of the wall next to her and lay in wait to leap out on their friends. Though dark, it was still early enough for the local children to be about and the streets were busy, full of noise and laughter from them and their parents both, the occasional rattle of firecrackers making everyone jump. The sound was thought to scare away evil spirits, though it only seemed to heighten the general air of revelry.

Minsc and Valygar were walking just ahead of her, the Rashemi looking quite enthralled by all the commotion, while behind, Fritha was talking animatedly to Anomen, Haer'Dalis and Aerie arm in arm and, though she never would have admitted as much, Jaheira could not help but feel a pang of loneliness. She would have never really celebrated that day outside of the usual prayers for the family she had never known and the druids who had raised her, but the Moon Feast was considered a rest day in many places and she would have spent it with Khalid, just taking the opportunity to spend some time with each other, be they out on some task for the Harpers or just safely ensconced within some tavern or stronghold, and it would have been nice.

Jaheira started as an arm suddenly encircled her elbow, the druid whipping round to find Fritha falling into step with her, a glowing smile on her pale pretty face.

'So, you're looking very dressed up. I do like your tunic; is it new?'

'No… I just rarely have occasion to wear it,' Jaheira managed after a moment, much more herself as she added, 'Well, this is unexpected; would you not rather be at someone else's arm?'

She looked pointedly back to the knight who was now in conversation with the tiefling, Jaheira at least expecting the girl to blush at her insinuation, though Fritha just shrugged.

'He seems happy enough talking to Haer'Dalis and I have not seen you all day –how was your walk out?'

'Cathartic; my soul feels lighter, and…' Jaheira trailed off, unable to help a frown as the dull ache within her chest gave a throb of acknowledgment. Fritha smiled gently.

'And perhaps a little empty? I'm the same after a good cry, it's like all the worry has leaked out and just left a hole. But it passes. To be filled with joy -or other worries, depending what is to hand.'

'And how merrily you accept it!' the druid laughed.

'What else can be done? I was thinking the same this afternoon as I made my prayers for Gorion; life is such a fragile thing and the Fates are not known for their gentle touch. I suppose we must just walk the path laid for us and find our joys where we can –even if we know they are not to last.'

'Are you trying to wring more tears from me?'

'No,' Fritha cried, 'to cheer you! You may feel sorrow for those that have been lost, but you can still cherish what you had.'

'That you can,' the woman sighed, 'and when did you become so wise?'

Fritha laughed ruefully. 'It was the world's doing and quite against my will.'

'You always were a stubborn one, though I see your will has relented on other matters lately –what is between you and Anomen now?'

But Fritha merely shrugged again.

'I don't know; I've decided not to think about it and just take things as they come.'

Jaheira raised an eyebrow. 'You seem remarkably at ease with the thing.'

'Why shouldn't I be? I was at ease with him before he told me of his regard and he said he liked me for long before that –the only thing that is different is that I know of it now.'

The druid sent her a measured look. 'I see, and how much of this apparent nonchalance is genuine and how much is mere bravado?'

'Ooo, about half and half,' Fritha laughed, turning to look behind them once more, still smiling though there was a sadness to it now. 'Poor fool; why couldn't he have liked Aerie or Nalia? Everything would have been so much easier for him.'

The knight glanced up to catch them watching and was suddenly grinning like a loon.

'I think he seems happy enough,' said Jaheira dryly. Fritha laughed again and squeezed her arm.

The streets grew quieter as they left the slums, evensong long ended in the temple district, the myriad of stained glass windows depicting the saints and miracles of every faith dappling the dark paths and canals with colour as they made their way south to the Order's compound.

As one they trooped into the courtyard, Harn stood, not before the Great Hall, but at the doorway of the large building to their left which Fritha knew housed the squires' dormitories, the knight welcoming them heartily inside and showing them through to an office where the shy Squire Marc was waiting to take their coats. Fritha and Jaheira lingered there, helping Marc get some semblance of order to the mess of cloaks and coats that were piled on the desk and chairs, the boy politely answering Fritha's questions about what he had been up to since they had last met, seemingly less reticent now he was no longer before a crowd.

At last, Marc seemed satisfied with the makeshift cloakroom and he led them along a wide stone corridor and into a hall that likely served as the refectory, the two long tables stacked to one side to make room for the scatting of smaller tables and chairs, the majority grouped about the two fireplaces that were roaring merrily at either end. Knots of people were already gathered about the room, about two dozen at first glance, the company mostly men though Fritha noticed a few other ladies were present.

As for her own companions, Minsc and Valygar were already in conversation with an older knight Fritha did not recognise and one she most assuredly did, Cadril looking pale and handsome in a fine grey doublet. Aerie and Haer'Dalis were not far from them, laughing with the radiant Irlana, while Anomen was speaking to one of the young squires who was moving about the room with a tray of cups. Fritha smiled, that room a field of shining faces, everyone sharing wine and talk -And then Marc shut the door behind them with a muted bang and everything stopped.

Fritha did not recognise many of the people about her, but they all seemed to know who she was. She glanced to Jaheira, the older woman raising an eyebrow; it seemed that the Harpers's bounty notice, and certain aspects of Fritha's heritage revealed therein, had finally made it around the Order. Fritha glanced over to the others. They looked to have noticed it too; Haer'Dalis frowning in his bemusement while Anomen's was face already like thunder.

'Do you recall the Ducal Palace dinner?' muttered Jaheira. Fritha snorted and, for a moment, she was back in that grand bright hall, sat at the end of that long table and trying to concentrate on her carrot soup as the whole room seemed content to stare at the top of her head, the air about her buzzing with rumours.

Fritha shrugged imperceptibly; the soup had still tasted nice.

'Fritha,' greeted Irlana in her high melodious tones, the young woman hurrying over to welcome her in, a well-dressed gnome but a pace behind her, a cup in each hand, 'and the Lady Jaheira too, is it not? Welcome, both of you. This, as you know, is my friend, Cyrando.'

'Well met, young lady, and to you also madam,' Cyrando greeted, handing her and Jaheira the wine cups he held.

'I was so pleased when Sir Harn said you would be coming, Fritha,' continued Irlana brightly, 'We were just about to start up a few rounds of ombre; will you join us?'

'You go,' Fritha offered to the woman next to her, 'I should speak to Anomen.'

Jaheira followed her eye to the still scowling knight and nodded once, allowing Irlana to lead the way, Fritha happy not to notice the whispered exchanges and furtive glances as she crossed the room with a smile.

'Hello, Anomen, why so displeased?'

Anomen was still frowning, though she was glad to see his look soften slightly as he turned to her. 'Do not pretend you have not noticed it, Fritha.'

The girl shrugged mildly. 'Look at it this way -you're the one who went on a murderous rampage just the other day; perhaps they're all gossiping about you.'

But Anomen was not inclined to see the funny side, it seemed. Fritha sighed, feeling bad for him.

'Oh, Anomen, don't take it to heart; it's to be expected. They likely know I'm a Bhaal- er, one of the Children now.'

'It should not make a difference!'

'Well, it doesn't to me,' Fritha soothed, 'Does it to you?'

'You know it never has!'

'Well, if I'm not concerned, and you are not concerned, then does what anyone else thinks really matter?'

But it did clearly for the knight, Anomen sending one last poisonous glare at those few who were still imprudent enough to be looking her way, before stalking off into the back of the hall to speak to Harn. Fritha sighed again, wondering if she was not going to end up regretting her decision to allow the man closer before she had even really begun to try. Anomen needed to get used to things like this and quickly. Being the child of a dark god was not all about people out for your blood, there was a lot of more subtle unpleasantness, too, attitudes and prejudices that, for the most part, you merely had to accept.

Fritha shot a frustrated look to the ceiling. All she asked was one day where she did not have to argue or soothe or kill someone.

'I have heard They respond better to worship than to withering looks, my lady,' came a voice behind her, polite and kindly and warm with a smile and, despite her current troubles, Fritha whirled with a swelling sense of delight as she realised just to whom it belonged.

'Sir Keldorn!' she cried, the old paladin stepping forward, taking her free hand as they made their obeisance.

'My Lady Fritha, you are keeping well, I hope?'

'No!' she laughed, 'But what of you? I haven't seen you about here for a while, not even at Anomen's inauguration.'

The old paladin dipped his head in a slow nod, something about his face darkening.

'No, I have been spending more time at home of late. It was brought to my attention that I have been neglectful of my family over the years. It came down to one choice, between my duties as a follower of Torm and my duties as a husband and father.' He smiled gently, 'I believe I have made the right decision. But speaking of Sir Anomen, I hear tell that he has managed to earn more than just his knighthood in your company.'

Fritha felt herself colour and took a gulp of wine to compensate, nearly choking in the process. Keldorn smiled kindly.

'There is no need to be discomfited, my lady. I understand that to most people he can seem brash and callow, but he is young and there is much good in him. I am glad, Fritha, but not entirely surprised, that you were the one to see it.'

Fritha mumbled uncomfortably into her cup. Not only was she extremely embarrassed, she now felt awful as well, because a small part of her thought 'most people' might have a bit of a point.

'But why are you here, Keldorn?' she continued with a deft change of subject, 'I would have thought you would be spending the evening with your family.'

'Indeed, and I will be. But I promised my wife I would look in on my squire, Stephan.' Keldorn gestured to the corner where a group of young boys were knelt playing cards and Fritha recognised young Marc among them, the boy laughing and teasing his fellows as he won the hand. 'Stephan has no family close by, coming from Cormyr as he does. I invited him to the Firecam household to share in our celebrations, but he said he would not intrude –think he is better off here with his friends.' Keldorn smiled, turning his attention back to the room as Irlana arrived at their side.

'Ah, hello, Sir Keldorn, perhaps you and Fritha would like to come sit with us; we had too many for cards in the end, so another group of us are about to share stories of our ancestors.'

Keldorn politely refused her offer, stating he would not be remaining much longer himself and the girls excused themselves from his company, Irlana leading her over to where a group of chairs were set about one of the large fireplaces, Aerie already sat with Cyrando and a few of the younger knights who looked to be of a comparable age to her, the men standing as she and Irlana approached.

'Now, who is to go first?' came Irlana, when all were once more seated. Cyrando instantly turned his wide friendly smile on Fritha.

'Come, lady, you must have a story or two of your ancestors to share with us.'

Fritha shot Aerie a look, an eyebrow quirked and the elf had to turn quickly, hiding her snort in her cup as Fritha continued, those squires gathered about her looking at the same time, nervous and wholly rapt.

'A story of my father? I am afraid Gorion was a quiet man and did not speak much of his life before I came to know him. Perhaps another would be able to give you a tale.'

'Very well, then,' nodded Cyrando just as amiably, turning to the young man opposite, 'perhaps you would oblige us, Sir Nesam?'

xxx

'I see you are still sulking over here,' said Jaheira to the broad-shouldered back before her, the shadow of the pillar they were stood in not masking his indignant look as Anomen whipped round.

'I am not-!

'I understand, 'she cut in gently, 'It is… difficult when your own do not accept those close to you. But do not let a uncertain beginning colour the whole evening. See, they have warmed to her, as they should. This could have all been much worse.'

Anomen followed her nod to where Fritha was still sat with Aerie and a few of the younger knights, the company laughing as the swarthy Sir Nesam entertained them with some tale.

'Yes… Perhaps, I should join them.'

And Jaheira watched as he left the dark corner, sensing the presence at her back even as the familiar voice rumbled, 'Keeping the peace?'

Jaheira sent Valygar a weary smile. 'It seems to be all I do some days.'

Anomen shook himself, determined to shake off his annoyance as he reached the group, Fritha glancing up with a smile as he arrived behind her chair.

'Ah, Anomen,' greeted Nesam, 'you have come to join us. Good; we were just trying to cheer Allid here with a few tales of woe.'

And Allid did not look too pleased about it either, the pale man rather pink in the cheeks as he frowned into his cup.

'Tales of woe? Would that not have the contrary effect?'

'No, indeed, for if one cannot solve a problem, it is surely the next best thing to sympathise with it. Allid has recently lost the favour of his lady-'

'Nesam!'

'And we were hoping some tales of similar heartbreak would console him, but none here seem able to oblige us. Perhaps you have a story of love lost to cheer us with?'

'Well, ah, not really,' Anomen muttered, not sure he would share it even if he had. Nesam sighed deeply.

'Oh, poor Allid, it looks as though you will have to suffer alone.'

Allid just rolled his eyes and took another mouthful of wine.

'Well,' began Fritha hesitantly. Anomen felt his attention jerk to her. 'Well, I may have a tale… I will tell it if it will bring you some measure of ease.'

But Nesam did not even wait for his friend's reply, dark eyes shining as he leaned forward to press eagerly 'Go on, lady.'

Anomen felt his stomach stir with unease, not sure he wanted to hear this though unable to draw himself away and he watched as Fritha lowered her gaze, her eyes distant as she stared into the fire.

'This all happened, oh, long ago now, back in Candlekeep where I was brought up. It was the summer, my fourteenth summer, in fact. I remember the day so clearly, I was out in the gardens when it happened. The bees humming were in the lavender and the air was warm with the scent of flowers and hay from the barn, when this peace was broken by the clang of the gates. I turned in time to see it rattle from the darkness of the gatehouse, the sunlight falling upon the horse-drawn wagon that supplied the Keep with parchment, food and other necessities. The merchant was sat upon the bench with his dark-haired son and I could feel that first blooming swell of my heart as my eyes fell upon… the most beautiful sunhat I had ever seen.'

Nesam snorted into his wine cup, the two men either side of him laughing raucously, Aerie trying to stop giggling long enough to scold, 'Fritha!' As for Allid, he was hardly as diverted as his friends, though he could not hide his smile as Fritha continued wistfully.

'Oh, it was so lovely. All wide straw brim with a huge yellow sash about the crown; how my heart longed for it. Well, I begged Gorion to lend me the coin to buy it, promised him I would spend all my free time in chores and scribing for the rest of the year -I would have promised him the sun and moon if he would have but presented me with that hat! But, he did not understand; said I was young, that I did not need a hat yet and when I was a bit older I would realise, too, that what he said was for the best. I tried to find another way, but what could I do? I would go down to the merchant's wagon each day to gaze upon it and try to imagine some way that I could but make it mine; the idea that come tenth-day and that hat would leave my life forever was unbearable. But tenth-day came and leave it did. Beth, the cook, tried her best to console me, told me there would be other hats, but I could not hear of it; my heart was broken.'

'Oh, dear,' came a smooth voice that was sure to make his hackles rise, Anomen's good humour evaporated in an instant as Cadril joined their company, 'who has been breaking poor Fritha's heart? Why, Anomen, I never realised you had it in you.'

'Allid has lost the favour of his lady,' supplied Nesam promptly, much to his friend's chagrin.

'Nesam! Must you tell the whole of Athkatla?'

'Come now, Allid,' appeased Cadril, giving the man's shoulder a commiserating slap, 'there is no shame in it. Do you plan to try and win her back?'

'I already did but she is adamant. She says we hardly see each other as it is, for she is at school in Waterdeep for half the year and I am away with my knight.'

'Oh, it is a problem for those who have chosen this life. But some ladies seem to feel the joys outweigh the detriments.'

He glanced pointedly to Fritha, clearly expecting her input here, the girl growing steadily pinker as she fumbled for an answer. 'I, well, I-'

'Oh dear,' rumbled Harn, the old knight appearing behind Aerie's chair, Irlana at his side, 'what has made the Lady Fritha so red? I hope you are not teasing her, young Cadril.'

'No, indeed, sir, we were just speaking of Allid's lost lady.'

Allid dropped his head into his hands with a groan, Irlana's pretty face downcast in her compassion.

'Oh, Allid, I had heard of your misfortune. I understand it is difficult, but I am sure the lady would not have come to the decision lightly and not without great pain. Perhaps when she has finished her schooling and you have been knighted you may meet again and find your feelings for each other are quite unchanged for this parting.'

Fritha beamed. For all her own jests, it had been Irlana's kind words that had been the real help here, Allid smiling properly for the first time all evening. Nesam gave his friend's back a friendly slap.

'There you go, Allid, take heart. Now how about a dance to put the rest of us in good spirits?'

'Can anyone play?' asked Irlana.

Cadril shrugged. 'I've my viola and doesn't Squire Marc have a lute?'

'Indeed, he does!' confirmed Harn proudly, turning to call, 'Marc, come here please.'

Fritha watched the boy glance up from his cards and, a moment later, he on his feet and trotting obediently over to them, eyes wary under the sandy thatch of hair.

'Yes, my lord?'

'Marc, go fetch your lute; there is to be dancing.'

The boy paled instantly. 'Ah, sir, I-I really do not think I can-'

'Nonsense, m'boy,' cut in Harm, giving his shoulder a firm and, what he seemed to consider heartening slap, 'you play well enough. Now go and fetch it that we may begin.'

Fritha felt her eyes follow the boy as he walked dejectedly to the back of the hall and disappeared into the stairwell, her own stomach tight in sympathy. She was sure he'd be fine once he got started…

The voice in her head snorted. Coward!

'Fritha, where are you-?' Anomen began and she suddenly noticed she was stood, as well.

'Another drink,' she explained, downing an almost full cup and coughing as she set it on the table next to him, her stomach feeling no less tense for the sudden weight in wine sloshing about within. Anomen caught her hand, his eyes downcast.

'I will not ask you to dance if you do not wish it,' he murmured and Fritha felt her insides groan.

'Anomen… it's not that, I promise,' she pleaded, gently easing her hand from his, 'I'll just be a moment.'

The stairs led, as she had expected, up to the dormitories and a few exploratory wrong-turns finally found her in what she assumed were the younger squires' quarters, a long plain room, two rows of beds along each wall, a stout chest at the end of each. The lamps were unlit, though moonlight poured in from the tall windows, staining the world an inky blue. Marc's bunk was only a few from the door, the boy knelt before his bed, the case lain upon it and thrown open. Inside, she could see a short-necked lute similar to the one she had first trained on in Candlekeep, and she felt her stomach drop as the boy turned around and she noticed he'd been crying.

'Hello Marc.'

'Oh, h-hello, my lady,' he stammered, his voice falsely bright as he rose and hastily wiped his cheeks, 'are you lost?'

'No… is that your lute?'

He nodded forlornly, all pretence gone as he returned his gaze to the instrument.

'It was my father's. He could play very well. I- I was given it when he died. I can play!' he added defiantly, as she would think him a liar, or worse, that his knight was. 'I play for Sir Harn all the time, but… it is just when I know other people are there, it is as though my fingers don't know where to go anymore.' He dropped his head, his voice a miserable whisper, 'Harn will be so ashamed of me.'

Fritha sighed, sinking onto the bed next to his and he moved to join her.

'It's probably because you're too focused, trying too hard. Sometimes thinking cuts the link between your mind and your fingers; you have to feel the music.'

Marc glanced to her. 'You play, my lady? Which instrument?'

Fritha swallowed, the two sides of herself screaming at each other so, she could barely hear her reply.

'A long-necked lute, though I first learnt on one of those…'

They both turned back to the bed opposite, the strings gleaming like spun silver in the moonlight.

'My lady,' he breathed, seemingly scared she would disappear at any moment, 'will you…?'

'Are you sure you want me too? It might be better for you to get it over with and- oh hush,' Fritha soothed as he began to cry again and it struck her how young he was, barely ten winters; she was sure Harn meant well, but why put such pressure on the boy? And who was she to be telling him it would be better to get it over and done with? She was over twice his age and she could still count the number of people she'd played for on one hand! Though it seemed that would soon be about to change…

Fritha sighed, gently rubbing the boy's back, the knot in her stomach tightening.

'Marc, we will do anything you wish.'

xxx

'Oh dear, did I perhaps say something to upset your lady before, Anomen? She quit our company most hastily just as soon as the dancing was mentioned.'

Anomen returned Cadril's look of false concern with a cool frown.

'Do not trouble yourself, Cadril, Fritha is fine.'

'I am glad to hear it. I hope then to see you and she take to the floor upon Squire Marc's return –I had heard the lady greatly favours dancing.'

Anomen coloured. 'I-ah-'

'Well, I cannot stay here to talk,' Cadril cut in; he'd had his fun, 'I must fetch my own instrument.'

Anomen watched him leave with narrowed eyes; how he hated the man.

Fritha reappeared a few moments later, her hand clutching a cup of wine so tightly her knuckles were white, though she seemed relaxed enough as she returned to her seat, chatting brightly with Aerie who had already been asked to dance by Nesam. Anomen watched the pair with a frown as others jostled about him. It seemed the whole room was on its feet, the news there was to be dancing spreading quickly and many couples had gathered at their end of the hall in anticipation, the centre of the long hall already clear and just awaiting the dozen pairs of lively feet. Cadril was back now, stood just a across the hall, his viola lain on the table next to him as he checked the tension in his bow, though he still spared the time to send Anomen a smirk.

'I have my lute, milord.'

Anomen started from his brooding to see Marc before him, nervous but smiling as he showed his knight the instrument. Harn nodded and Anomen could not be sure, but he could have sworn he saw the slightest glance pass between her and the boy as Fritha clapped her hands together and cried audibly, 'A lute, how wonderful!'

'Do you play, my lady?' Marc asked, all innocence, the girl dipping her face shyly as she demurred, 'Oh, not for a long while now.'

Harn seemingly needed no further provocation though, sweeping in and beaming generously.

'You must play for us, lady, I insist -Marc.'

The boy stepped forward meekly and Anomen watched as their friends exchanged dark looks, unable to suppress their collective astonishment as Fritha did not make her customary and adamant refusals, but mildly took the instrument he offered.

'I gave you fair warning,' she laughed, though her smile seemed a little tight as she rose to take her place on the chair next to Cadril and check the tuning.

Marc had shuffled back to stand with his friends out of the way, looking positively faint with relief, and it suddenly struck Anomen that being a hero wasn't just about saving cities and averting wars; sometimes it was a very small thing that no one else would notice, but that someone would remember for the rest of their life.

At last, Fritha glanced up from the instrument and Anomen caught her eye, the girl sending him a smile, albeit a nervous one, as she struck her first tentative chord.

'A bransle, anyone?'

The couples took their places and soon that long hall was echoing with a sprightly melody, the air thrumming with the beat of two score feet all falling in unison as they travelled the complex patterns of the dance. It was strange, that mundane hall where he had once taken his meals suddenly transformed by the two rows of dancers, their brightly-coloured clothing softened by the lamplight as they all moved as one. Aerie was easily spotted, her golden head weaving in amongst the others as she tripped through the steps with Sir Nesam, Haer'Dalis sending her a smile as he danced similarly with Irlana, Jaheira still stood pointedly on the edge beside Valygar and Minsc, though she had been asked to the floor more than once.

Anomen was hardly paying much attention to them though, his gaze on Fritha as she played, the man unable to stop smiling as he watched her fingers fly across the frets, her eyes closed and face contorting with the occasional wince as she no doubt berated herself for some missed beat or flat note, though he could never hear the error. The dancing proved more popular than there was space to house, the reduced numbers of ladies meaning partners were in short supply too, and the pair played six rounds together, allowing all who wanted one a chance on the floor, before they stopped for a break.

Fritha had gone straight to the back of the hall, presumable to top up her cup, Jaheira already at her side and pressing for an explanation as Anomen moved to join them.

'What on Toril was all that about?'

'Sorry?' Fritha replied innocently, the woman's wholly incredulous snort prompting her to quickly hiss, 'Well, I could hardly refuse, could I? I really don't know why you're making such a fuss.'

Jaheira frowned, unconvinced, though clearly unwilling to pursue it further whilst in company, the woman marching back to rejoin Valygar and Minsc.

'Fritha?'

The girl started, looking relieved when she turned to find it was him. 'Oh, hello Anomen, did you dance?'

He ignored her question though, stepping closer to continue in an undertone, 'I noticed what you did… for Marc…'

She looked for a moment as though she would deny it, when a smile lit her face, the girl laughing giddily into her sleeve as she leaned in conspiratorially.

'Oh gods, Anomen, I thought I was going to be sick! That first song,' she shook her head, 'my heart was trembling like a frightened bird. If Cadril hadn't been there to keep time, I don't know what I would have done.'

'You play very well,' he said with sincerity, but she shrugged the compliment away.

'No, no -not this evening, anyway. Too much wine beforehand –see, I'm on milk now,' she added, showing him the contents of her cup, 'and Marc's lute has more strings than I'm used to –it's been years since I've played on a ten course. But for all that, I was really starting to enjoy myself once I was over my nerves. I suppose I shouldn't be such a coward; I'll have no excuse not to play in future now.'

She laughed again, Cadril calling across to them.

'Ready for another round, m'lady?'

The girl beamed and excused herself to settle next to him, the dancers reassembling as the music resumed once more.

They must have played for another hour or so, if the time for their breaks was included, the last dance ending with much applause for their two musicians. Cadril had immediately packed his viola away. but Fritha had other plans, it seemed, and Anomen did not really see her for the rest of the evening; something Cadril had been quick to point out, though Anomen did not care. What more joy could there be? Him sat about the fire with the others swapping tales, while a mere glance away would find Fritha where she had been since they had finished playing, the girl sat in a quiet corner with Marc and showing him various positions and tunings, adjusting his fingers now and then as she murmured encouragements. And what Cadril thought about anything suddenly no longer mattered.

The hour was late now, the hall looking much larger than before now half the guests had retired for the evening. Anomen was leant in the shadow of one of the stout pillars enjoying a moment of quiet before he returned to the others. Everything had changed over a such a short space of time and he felt if he did not take a moment now and then to just stand and enjoy it, the feeling would pass him by. The fireplace at the far end of the hall had been allowed to burn down, though Nesam was busy adding more wood to the other, those who were clearly in the mind to make a night of it, pulling their chairs closer.

'So you have finally won the lady.'

Anomen sighed inwardly, straightening to turn and find Cadril wearing his familiar smirk.

'I must say though,' the knight continued with that same insincere concern, 'she seems rather reticent of the thing- you have been courting long?'

Anomen shrugged. 'No, not particularly.'

'Ah, I see. That must explain it then. I am surprised though; you seemed wholly indifferent to the lady when we last met. Still, what is it the bards say? Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows. But I suppose a life on the road is fraught with hardships which may bring together those who would otherwise find little pleasing in each other.'

Anomen snorted, almost amused by the poorly veiled attempts to rile him. In each other –ha! The man was clearly finding it difficult to understand what Fritha saw pleasing in him! Anomen smiled into his cup; well, he certainly could not tell the man.

'I surely could not comment, Cadril.'

The man nodded airily. 'Indeed. Fritha seemed reluctant to elaborate too –I tried to ask her of it, but you know young ladies, so shy of baring their hearts.'

'Perhaps they find they have to be; some men are not so gentle with them.'

'Anomen, here you are; I was looking for you.'

He glanced up, Fritha before him, her cloak about her shoulders.

'You are leaving?'

The girl nodded. 'Yes, if you don't mind?'

'No, no, of course not, I shall escort you back.'

Fritha shook her head with a smile. 'There is no need, Anomen, the others are coming as well. Aerie wants to go to the circus and I think Jaheira just wants to go to bed.'

Anomen wondered if there was a hint here he should be catching.

'Oh, perhaps, I should-'

'Anomen, stay here, if you wish. I was not telling you so you would feel you had to join us.'

Anomen nodded once, smiling through his discomfort, well aware that their parting had an audience. 'Well, I will see you later then, Fritha.'

'Yes,' she faltered, just as awkward, 'Well, enjoy the rest of your evening, won't you?'

'Oh, I shall.'

'Well, indeed…' Fritha glanced briefly to Cadril's prying form, seeming to decide something and she suddenly closed the gap between them, a hand upon his arm for balance as she leaned up to his ear to murmur, tender and still quite audible, 'And do try not to make too much noise when you come in, my love.'

A shy little smile, all lowered gaze and knowing lips, and she was gone, tripping lightly over to where the others had gathered before the doors. Next to him, Cadril's brow was low with the disgruntled frown that Anomen himself was more than used to wearing in his company. He grinned. Gods, she was a cunning one! His wonderful, wicked Fritha.

xxx

Outside, the air was cold enough to take the wine from her blood, Jaheira pulling her cloak about her more tightly as they set off back to the slums, Valygar at her side as they followed the others, Aerie twittering on about some squire who had asked for her handkerchief as a favour he could carry into battle, Fritha already laughing loudly.

'I can't see anyone being inspired by the contents of my handkerchief.'

'Fritha!'

'Well, did you give it to him?' the girl questioned. Aerie blushed slightly and shook her head.

'It wouldn't have been appropriate.'

Haer'Dalis sent her a disappointed frown. 'Oh, Aerie, how could you deny him? Just think of how romantic it would have been: him far from home, facing untold danger for the good of these lands, yet able to take comfort in his memories of the beautiful maid he once met whenever he wiped his nose.'

'Haer'Dalis!'

'Well, my birds,' the tiefling continued, still chuckling to himself as they drew to a halt at a crossroads just south of the slums, 'I feel a parting of ways is in the air. Who is coming to the circus?'

Minsc, Fritha, Haer'Dalis and Aerie apparently; the group taking the street east and leaving Jaheira and Valygar to return to the Coronet in companionable silence.

The tavern was quiet now, a few patrons hunched low over their drinks, the only ones still in the common room and none of them looked like they planned to go anywhere soon. The maids had been allowed to return home to their families and only Hendak was serving, the dim lamps hung behind the bar catching on a head of short bristly hair that was more silver than blonde, the man looking tired and worn even for his impressive physique, though his face seemed to regain some life as he noticed them enter.

'Friends, I did not expect to see any of you before the dawn –would you have cup with me to celebrate the day?'

Valygar glanced to her in question and Jaheira shrugged; she was not so tired that she could not spare the time and Hendak left the bar, the three taking seats about the nearest fireplace. They drank a round together, just talking of the tavern and their plans for the next few tenday before Valygar excused himself and headed up to bed. Jaheira eyed the dregs of ale that rested in the bottom of her cup, tired but not enough so to move from the warmth of the fireside and take herself up to that cold empty room.

'Here,' said Hendak, perhaps sensing she was not ready to leave and rising stiffly, the man crossing to the bar and reaching over it to return with a large bottle of amber liquid and two small glasses.

'To the dead,' he toasted as he poured them out and passed her a glass, 'may they rest in peace and leave us to find our own.'

The spirits were sweet with a sharp aftertaste of oranges, the liquid warming her throat as she swallowed.

'So strange,' Hendak continued, as he refilled their glasses, 'a feastday where one thinks of those past. We do not celebrate this day where I am from –and I am pleased for it; I do not like to think of what family of mine are left saying prayers for me. Better they forget.'

'Do you never consider returning to your homeland?' asked Jaheira, taking a sip of the sweet spirits.

Hendak shrugged. 'To what? My parents were of an age when I was captured; they will be dead by now. And my two brothers will have moved on with their lives, found wives and have families of their own.' He grimly sipped at his glass, 'I am dead to that world.'

'And have you no prayers to make yourself?' Jaheira continued, the alcohol and her own embarrassment leaving her face hot as she suddenly realised the intimacy of such a question, though the man just shrugged.

'Prayers for the dead? Oh, yes, but more than could be made in one day.' He shook his head ruefully, perhaps reflecting on what his life had become, so far removed from what any man would have planned. 'So many dead. Each night they came to me, some terrified, others thirsty to prove themselves and each one I was forced to kill. It is a cruel thing, to make one man kill another. I considered sometimes to err, to allow myself to fall within the arena, but to what end? My victor would either die another day or rise to take my place. Hendak the Unbeatable. They used to say I had a charmed life -that I could have spat in the face of every man who said I did.' Hendak sighed, downing the rest of his glass and letting the sharp spirits rouse him from this melancholy. 'But you must forgive me, my bitterness is my own and I have much to be thankful for, too. I survived to take revenge and have my freedom now –it is more than many are given. And what of you, good lady? You have prayed for many this day?'

'A few. My parents, some friends… my husband.' Jaheira sank the contents of her glass, trying to dislodge the sudden lump in her throat. It all felt so unreal; just one year before she had spent the day with the man and now she was praying for his soul's peace. 'I'm sorry,' she mumbled, dipping her face against the few tears that had refused to be quelled and hating that she had to, 'his life was taken not long past; the wounds are still raw.'

'But you are still alive,' reminded Hendak quietly, dark eyes soft beneath the careworn brow. 'They stay with us always, the dead; why should we need a day to remember them? But we are the living and we must go on. You are a striking woman who brings much good to this world; your husband was very blessed.'

Jaheira smiled slightly, feeling tired and old, but nevertheless warmed by his words.

'We were both very blessed. Goodnight, Hendak.'

xxx

The cold awoke Anomen long before the dawn did. He had stayed so late at the Order, in the end it had made more sense for him to stay there than to make the way back to the inn and he had spent the night in the room he had been assigned upon his knighthood. But, his own room at the Order though he had, no one had been expecting him to use it and to say it was cold would have been a staggering understatement. No one had known to light the fire and he had seen little point in doing so last night, not the hour he had finally reached his bed, though he was regretting such a hasty dismissal this morning, Anomen huddled under his blankets, dreading the inevitable moment when he would have to venture out into the icy air.

It had been a pleasant evening, once he had let go of his anger and joined his fellows. He should not have lost his temper has he had -not because he did not think those who behaved so did not deserve it, but because he knew it did nothing save make things more difficult for Fritha. And though he did not agree with it, if all Fritha wanted was for those she knew and liked to accept her, then that should be enough for him, too.

Anomen gritted his teeth and finally summoned the courage to sit, throwing off the blankets and bearing a few moments stood by the plain wooden chair pulling on the frigid clothes he had been wearing the previous evening, before crossing to the washstand, the sound of singing outside drawing eyes to the small window next to him. A man and a woman, just specks on the paths far below him, who appeared to be continuing their revels as they made their way to the dawn service at temple of Lathander, the pair either still drunk or just in very good spirits as they weaved their way along the canal.

'Oh there's music and there's dancing and there's lots of sweet romancing. When they play the polka, they all get in the swing.'

It was something he could easily see Fritha doing and the thought made him smile; had there ever been a time when he had dismissed her exuberance as idiocy? Now it was such a joy to hear her laugh. What a pity he had come to such a change of heart as the girl was finding less and less to laugh about. And suddenly it was so clear he could not help but grin as he turned back to his room, the dawn sun warm through the glass.

xxx

Jaheira let her hand rest lightly on the banister, enjoying the smooth flowing grain of the wood as she made her descent into the common room. Though the sun had barely risen, the days were much shorter now and it was a little later than she would usually leave her room. Not that she had slept late –she rarely did, but she had taken her time over her packing and prayers, enjoying the simple routine of it. Fritha has been right and Jaheira was feeling much better than she had the night before; the emptiness within her was slowly filling with the anticipation of being out of the city and raising the last of the coin for Imoen's rescue.

She rounded the corner of the stairwell and stepped down into the common room to find it unsurprisingly quiet, the revels of the previous evening keeping most of the patrons in their beds. Something that she suspected a few of her own company would have preferred as well, all but she and Fritha already at their usual table, a large round box in the centre that no one was paying much attention to it in light of Haer'Dalis's theatrics, more than one smile about the group as he wailed and groaned.

'Oh, Aerie, I think oblivion has come for this poor sparrow.'

'Oblivion, really!' the girl laughed, already moving to pour an extra cup as she noticed Jaheira's arrival, 'It's just a hangover.'

Jaheira nodded her thanks as she took her seat opposite, lifting the cup for that first scalding sip and hiding her smile behind it as she turned to the bard, the tiefling hunched forward, a pale hand clutched about a cup of his own.

'Really, Haer'Dalis, I did not think you suffered from such vinous revels.'

Haer'Dalis just made some noise between a whimper and a derisive snort, Aerie frowning as she explained briskly, 'Yes, well, there are Balor demons who would feel the effects of what Haer'Dalis drank last night.'

The bard groaned and dropped his head into his hands. 'Oh, Aerie, where is that compassion you are so blessed with?'

'Saved for someone who truly deserves it,' she scolded with another laugh, 'Now drink your tea and stop making a fuss.'

'Here,' said Jaheira, straightening from where she had been rooting in her bag to throw a small parchment envelope across the table at him, 'take that with it –it should help.'

Haer'Dalis looked overcome in his relief, the man emptying the dried herbs into his teacup with trembling hands.

'Oh, Sweet Ptarmigan, I will sing your praises to the very Heavens themselves!'

'Pray don't.'

'Indeed,' agreed Aerie, 'we had quite enough singing last night. All the way from the Promenade with you no less than wailing some song about your absconded love –I had every sympathy for her by the third verse.'

Haer'Dalis said nothing, just groaned and sank his head down, trying to bury it in his folded arms. Aerie laughed.

'Oh, you were not so shy last night, my love. You with an arm each over Fritha and I we carried you between us, telling us we were your favourite girls, the jewels of Athkatla, and how you'd duel anyone who spoke against it.'

'Aerie and Fritha did the carrying?' confirmed Valygar, 'Did you not volunteer your back, Minsc?'

The Rashemi nodded gravely. 'Oh yes, Boo always insists upon sparing maidens such labours if we may, but as soon as our bard was over my shoulder, such fuss!'

Jaheira sipped her tea with a smile. She could well imagine that being over Minsc's broad shoulder, upside down and jogged about would have done nothing for anyone, drunk or not, and Haer'Dalis was clearly in agreement, the bard looking almost green as he raised his head to croak, 'Oh, please, do not recall it to me.'

Minsc's laugh made the cups rattle. 'Ah, I have felt the same before now; too much Firewine has vanquished many mighty warriors of Rashemen. But if you feel its bite this morning, why not take a little more? A wedge dislodges a wedge, yes?'

'I really don't think more alcohol is the answer,' cautioned Aerie. Haer'Dalis ignored her.

'Does it work?' he asked, a wild desperation to his eyes. Valygar and Anomen shared a look and the knight shrugged.

'Sometimes… if you can drink it down.'

'And keep it down,' added Valygar with a smirk.

But Haer'Dalis was already leaning back from the table to try and catch the maid's attention. 'At this point, my hounds, I will try anything.'

Jaheira shook her head, still smiling as she gestured to the large striped box before them. 'So, what is this?'

It was Aerie who answered her.

'I don't know; Bernard said it was on the bar when he got up this morning though he did not see anyone deliver it. We haven't opened it –it's addressed to Fritha.'

Jaheira frowned, wanting to ask if anyone had checked it for magic or traps, but the question stuck in her throat. Why did even the simple surprise of a gift have to be marred by such worries? Still, without knowing its source, perhaps caution would be advised and she was just wrestling herself into suggesting it anyway, when Aerie glanced up and was suddenly calling across the tavern.

'Ah, Fritha, I'm so glad you're here; we were just dying to know what's inside.'

'We?' repeated Jaheira archly.

Aerie rolled her eyes. 'All right then, I.'

'What's inside what?' Fritha questioned as she reached them and Aerie pointed to the large round box.

'We just arrived at breakfast and it was here waiting for us,' the elf explained brightly, Fritha now eyeing it with a wariness that matched the druid's.

'How do you know-?'

'It has your name on it, see.'

Fritha lifted the small neat card from under the string, feeling rather on show. She had expected to recognise the hand as Higgold's but the script was angular and unfamiliar to her.

'Well?' pressed Aerie.

'I don't think it's from the playhouse.'

'We know that, girl,' Jaheira snapped with a lot more passion than Fritha thought someone who was apparently indifferent should have. 'If it were from the theatre, the boy Meck would have just brought it to your room. Now are you going to open it or not?'

Fritha glanced about at them all, strangely worried as she reached forward, untying the string and easing off the lid, her hands moving tentatively through the layers of thin paper within, until her fingers brushed against something familiar, and with a gasp she withdrew a beautiful straw hat.

'You!' she cried at Anomen who had managed to keep a straight face all that while, ignoring the others confusion as they both laughed together, Aerie giggling behind her hand as Fritha drew the hat back and made to hit him with it. She knew she should say something; scold or thank him, she was not sure, but she was so surprised, so pleased that she couldn't quite find the words.

Fritha glanced over it again, the simple lines and wide brim complemented by the stiff yellow scarf that circled it, tied to make a huge bow at the back, the tails trailing off the edge of the brim.

'Do you like it?' he asked, and she nodded, still unable to stop smiling.

'Yes, very much.'

'You bought it for her?' questioned Jaheira, staring back and forth between the pair, 'Why?'

But Anomen did not answer, turning instead to ask Fritha, 'Are you going to try it on?'

She obliged him, laughing gently all the while as she took out her hair and placed it on her head, very aware of how foolish she no doubt looked stood in the middle of the Coronet in tunic and sword and a large yellow hat.

Haer'Dalis leaned back in his chair, something of his old swaggering self back as he managed his first smile of the morning.

'Very good, my hound, very good; I could almost grow to like you.'

'But a sunhat in middle of winter,' pressed Aerie with a laugh, 'wherever did you find it?'

Anomen just smiled, his eyes still fixed on Fritha.

'Oh, you can buy anything in the City of Coin; something I am only just beginning to appreciate.'

In love, though she was, with her new prize, Fritha knew she could hardly take it with her to the Windspears, the girl returning to the theatre after breakfast to leave it in her office with Nalia's gown, her new lute, the majority of her books and other things too bulky to cart all the way across Amn. Anomen had joined her for the walk, the others finishing their packing before making the way over to the oslter to collect their pony with arrangements for them all to meet at the city gates within the hour.

Which was where they were heading now, the streets still quiet, though the sun was up, just cresting the eastern rooftops, a watery yellow behind the veil of misty grey clouds. Fritha stole a glance at the man next to her. She had noticed Anomen did not insist on escorting her anywhere anymore, did not even offer, the man just taking up his cloak whenever she prepared to leave, his confidence that she would not refuse his company both pleasing and unsettling at the same time. He glanced up to catch her watching him and Fritha smiled past her embarrassment.

'I know I have said this before, but thank you for my hat, Anomen.'

'You are quite welcome -is it as nice as the one you fell in love with?'

Fritha's great burst of unexpected laughter echoed along the street; she was quite unused to his teasing. 'Oh, yes, at least. And this one is all the better because now it's mine.'

A silence fell between them, just long enough for Anomen's mind to drift back to the previous evening and he realised suddenly that with a tenday of travelling ahead of them, this would likely be the last occasion they would be alone together for a while.

'Fritha…what you said last night, before Sir Cadril…'

Fritha nodded wisely 'Ah, yes… did he shut up after that?'

Anomen smiled. 'That he did… though you did not have to say anything; I do not care what he thinks.'

'Well, I overheard part of what he was saying to you and he kept trying to grill me when we chatted during breaks. The impudent wretch! Who is he to pass judgement on our relationship? On you?'

Fritha seemed to suddenly realise what she was saying and abruptly shut her mouth, her attention returned intently to their path, suddenly all discomfort and blush. It was the first time she had ever said anything about their relationship, even admitted there was such a thing and for such to be uttered in the same breath where she both disparaged his rival and defended him, Anomen could not have felt happier.

'What is it?' asked Fritha, the girl frowning as she noticed his grin.

'Nothing.'

'Well, stop smiling; it's disconcerting.'

But Anomen just laughed.