Author's Note: Slooowly getting back into this. Playing BG again certainly helps, especially now I've got Angelo Mod and Nalia Romance out of my system, and need a little break from BG2 anyway... :)

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The time is right to put my arms around you

You're feeling right

You wrap your arms around too

But suddenly I feel the shining sun

Before I knew it this dream was all gone

-- Daft Punk, Digital Love

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The afternoon sun was high in the sky as they continued west, after a short respite for lunch. They'd spent the night at the Jovial Juggler in Beregost, sharing a dormitory with several other travellers to Xan's dismay. Despite this, Nuila had still managed to make her way over to him, politely asking if he'd mind her curling on the floor next to his bed in order to share his reverie.

He'd insisted she take the bed as her own, and he'd spent the night on a mass of cloaks and blankets, his hand reaching up to hold hers through the night. He'd still felt the hard timbers of the floor, though, but it had been worth it; so much so, that he'd abandoned all hopes of leaving her company, once again.

Her reverie had been slightly different to usual. She wasn't in Candlekeep, this time; she'd been on a beach, the waves lapping gently at her feet as she stood there, staring out to the sea. Imoen had been present, as well -- and, soon enough, the two girls had started to run around together, laughing and shrieking.

Two older men had watched them, keeping a careful eye on their actions. Xan knew one to be Gorion, from Nuila's earlier memories, but was unsure of the identity of the second. Later, she'd told him that it was Tethtoril, and the day had actually been organised to get him out of the library and into fresh air for his health. Luckily for the girls, Gorion had decided it would be a good day for all of them; and so Xan was able to witness as Imoen sneakily placed a large pile of seaweed into Tethtoril's hood, somehow managing to remain unnoticed, while Nuila found and brandished a small, orange crab, only letting it go when the creature managed to nip her fingers.

He looked over to her; she'd been walking with him since they left the town, that morning, and had only left his side for the briefest of moments. She hadn't spoken much, however; though he, himself, had made no real effort to begin a conversation either. Instead, there was a comfortable and companionable silence between them; and whenever their eyes met, he would be rewarded with a smile.

Ajantis was telling Imoen about his plans to return to Athkatla. He was hoping that his travels with Nuila would provide him enough experience and valour to be nominated for his test, and then, if he passed, he would be eligible to become a Paladin Knight for his Order. He looked more alive and animated as he spoke of his duty and beliefs than Xan could remember seeing him before; Imoen, however, didn't look overly enthralled.

"Of course, all this is in the future," the squire was saying hurriedly. "I would not abandon the Lady Nuila to her quest, and I intend to follow her until its conclusion. If she permits, of course," he added, directing a look over to the elven girl.

"I'd be happy to have your company," she replied warmly. Xan felt a twinge of annoyance. He berated himself for it, though -- after all, they could use all the help they could get, and the squire was an adept fighter.

Ajantis beamed back to her, then directed his attention to Branwen. The warrior priestess was walking quietly to one side of the group, surveying the surrounding plains with interest. "What of you, my Lady Branwen," he said. "Do you have any plans for the future?"

She shrugged slightly, then used one hand to flick her golden hair back, and away from her face. "I have not yet thought that far in advance," she said thoughtfully. "For now, I am content to have avenged my own dishonour, and Tempus guides me to fight onwards at your sides until the matter is completely ended. And then..." She sighed. "And then, I do not know."

Ajantis nodded sympathetically. "Perhaps... I mean, if you would like to, you could... accompany me to Athkatla, possibly... there is no Temple to Tempus there, but I know of many who share your beliefs, and... And... I would be around... if you needed a guide..."

Imoen giggled inanely, earning herself a harsh look from Nuila, Xan noted. Branwen just looked at the pink-haired girl curiously, then bowed her head to Ajantis.

"I will consider it," she said neutrally, though the look of relief that crossed the squire's now pink face was unmistakeable. Xan also noted the barest hint of a smile on her lips. "It would be good to travel more in these lands, and I have no objections to accompanying you to your city."

"Well, it's not actually my city," Ajantis began, moving closer to talk to the priestess as he reminded her of his family in Waterdeep. Imoen took the opportunity to slink away from them, moving over to walk beside Nuila. She elbowed the elven girl, and jerked her head backwards. They both looked back quickly, then dissolved into random giggling, holding onto each other as they walked. Try as he might to ignore it, Xan couldn't help his curiosity. He quickly stole a glance behind them.

Tiax was there, muttering to himself as usual, and stalking along with the agitated gait of someone who'd much rather be somewhere else. But what seemed to have amused the girls was the fact that upon his helmet, draped up and over the horns at either side, and sitting well above the line of his vision, was a chain of flowers of the most vibrant colours Xan could imagine, all neatly woven together.

How they got should have been anyone's guess, though by the conspiratorial whispering happening at his side, and the memory of Imoen's pranks on Tethtoril, Xan had a fairly good idea of whom to suspect. Almost subconsciously, he felt his hands rise to his head, checking his hair for any unwanted decoration. He was relieved to find nothing.

---

Apart from Tiax, they'd all been in generally good spirits, so no one had been paying much attention to their surroundings. The gnome, however, had been shouting at Imoen about the floral addition she'd made to his outfit, and, Xan suspected, it was those shrill shrieks that had alerted the bandits to their passing in the first place.

They were surrounded almost immediately by human men who stank of sweat, ale and grease, all wielding rusty looking swords with viciously sharp edges. None of Xan's companions had moved for their weapons for one simple reason; the bandit leader had grabbed Nuila and put his own sword firmly against her neck.

To say he felt helpless was an understatement. The conversation passed by him like a fog; he was barely aware of the men demanding money and iron from them, and Nuila insisting they had little to give. She wasn't completely lying -- they had some coin, but not very much, and they had scarce iron in their weapons and mainly leather armours.

"We'll jus' have te take what ye have then, won't we?"

Xan forced himself to concentrate. The leader was leering at Nuila as he stood behind her, his hand slowly snaking its way up from her waist. She was standing completely still, her eyes half-closed. The others were watching her, waiting for a signal to attack.

"Search them!"

The men closed in on the group, hands reaching out to grab bags and weapons. Ajantis and Branwen looked over to Nuila with almost pleading expressions, both resolutely refusing to let go of their bags as the men rounded on the two warriors first. Then, another man faced Tiax, and reached for his helmet.

"NO!" the gnome screamed, causing the men to pause in their actions and look over to the cleric. "None shall touch Tiax's possessions without his express permission being granted beforehand!"

One of the men laughed nervously. Another joined in, and then they were all laughing, confident in their unity. One of them roughly grabbed Tiax's bag, trying to wrestle it from the gnome's determined grip.

Their leader was laughing too, his sword arm relaxed. Xan closed his eyes, and murmured. The resistance was limited; the man was becoming his to control.

"Now!" he hissed, beckoning Nuila to break free while he struggled to force the leader's arm away. She only gave him a quick glance before doing as he instructed. The bandit's control resurged, briefly, as she wriggled in his grasp, the sword was brought back up again sharply -- but then Xan broke down his defence completely, and he dropped his weapon with a cry. Nuila darted free, screaming for the others to attack.

Tiax was only too glad to oblige, smacking the nearest guard across the face with his mace. "Why must Tiax be subjected to such insolence? When Tiax rules all, none shall dare manhandle him... unless they are pretty ladies; with noses even more resplended than Tiax's own!"

Xan ducked away from the skirmish, his moonblade in hand as he approached the bandit leader. He swallowed hard; it was always difficult, he realised, to make the final blow like this. In the fury of battle one didn't have the time to think, to contemplate. As it was, Xan's blood felt cold as he stood there, preparing to strike a mortal blow.

A hand on his arm stayed his sword, and he turned to see Nuila there, a trickle of blood running down her throat. She wasn't looking at Xan, however; her eyes were boring into the unconscious bandit leader, and her expression was cold. Behind her, his men had fallen to the others. He was the only one left.

"Is he..." she asked.

Xan shook his head. "He will awaken. And then he will find new men and new victims."

She nodded slowly. "We could-"

"Nuila..." He kept his voice as gentle and as low as possible. "The town and any authority it may have is far behind us. We cannot take him to Gullykin as I doubt the halflings would have the appropriate facilities to put him to trial. There is no other way."

"We could... we could go back, perhaps..."

"And delay our journey more? He is a bandit, Nuila. He has more than likely killed innocent travellers, stolen their possessions. You might think that he deserves to be judged by the authorities, but he was ready to kill you there. I felt him fight my spell, and had he been successful you would be dead."

She nodded slowly, but still didn't look up to him. "Yes... yes, you are right."

He reached out, taking her arm and guiding her away. He nodded to Ajantis as they passed; the squire was standing ready, his sword in hands. Xan was glad he had the sense to wait until they'd moved well away before he brought it down.

---

The rest of the march was subdued, though Nuila stayed beside Xan, walking closer to him than she had been before. He spent the time wondering what was going through her mind; she'd been so sheltered, she was so idealistic. How hard was adapting to this life proving for her?

There were no other incidents, though; they reached the halfling village and introduced themselves to the mayor. He was very happy to see them, explaining that Jaheira and Khalid had ventured south to the ruins of an old bridge to investigate the possibility that it was involved in some way with the attacks that Gullykin had been suffering from. In the interim, they were shown to a low-ceilinged tavern, and Nuila had been gently coaxed back into her smiling self by Imoen; the pink-haired girl having found a roll of paper and a stick of charcoal, and having had proceeded to draw various comical depictions of their companions -- mostly Tiax, who had then huffed and threatened, waggling a finger before stalking away somewhere.

Then Imoen had left them as well, eager to explore the settlement and quick in accepting Ajantis' offer to walk around the perimeter as the sun set. The squire had taken upon it, himself, to provide extra help towards watching for any more raiders -- the mayor had explained that kobolds were the culprits, and Xan had instinctively shuddered -- and Branwen was already out there, training some of the younger halfling guards how to use a sling.

Before he realised what was happening, Nuila was sitting down, brandishing the parchment and the stick of charcoal. She smiled, and a chill crept down his spine. She'd targeted him.

"Will you play, then?" she asked, unrolling the scroll without waiting for an answer. At his silence, she managed to look up to him questioningly.

He swallowed hard, and nodded. She beamed with delight.

"You'll know how to play, of course," she said matter-of-factly. "I'll draw the grid-"

He cleared his throat. "Not as such, no."

She paused, having drawn one neat, straight line. "Not as such... what?"

"I am not familiar with how one plays this... game."

"Oh." She paused for only a moment, a thoughtful look on her face as she regarded him. Then, a shrug. "It's very easy," she explained, drawing another line, parallel to the first. "One of us chooses to play noughts, and the other plays crosses, and we fill in the spaces on the paper."

"And the aim?"

"Well, the winner manages to get three of their symbols in a straight row," she said, finishing her drawing. To Xan it looked only like a box with lines extending too far from the corners. She seemed pleased with her efforts, though. "It's not as easy as it sounds," she warned, seeming to note his dubious look, and misreading it for qualms over the satisfaction of playing the game; then she scratched a cross into one of the outer boxes.

He merely hmm'd at her, accepting the charcoal as she proffered it. At her expectant look, he inscribed a tidy circle into the centre square. It was placed almost perfectly in the middle.

She accepted ownership back of the charcoal, and a dainty cross was placed in another of the unfinished boxes to the side of his nought. The stick exchanged hands once more.

He watched her, unable to completely hide his amusement. She was so... engrossed in the game, that her eyes appeared glued to the paper, as if anticipating his next move. He barely glanced down to see where he was drawing, quick to pass the turn back to the girl so he could just watch her for a little longer.

She squealed in delight, her cross ending his hopes of achieving a diagonal line, while setting it up for two potential lines of her own down the two perpendicular sides of the grid. She gave him a triumphant look as she presented the charcoal to him with a flourish, and giggled as he sighed with resignation, taking his turn dutifully despite the outcome being known to both.

She was quick to fill in the last cross of her line, scoring through her crosses to signal her success. Then, with shining eyes, she looked up at him. "Again?"

---

He raised his hand to cover his mouth subtly, watching her from the corner of his eye. They'd played... he'd lost count, he realised, but it been well over a dozen more games, and Nuila had failed to win another. Now she was frowning in concentration, almost poured completely over the parchment as she watched for him to make a mistake. None was forthcoming.

A sigh from her signalled yet another draw, and he forced himself to wear his normal look of indifference as she threw herself back in the seat. She regarded him carefully.

"You learn quickly," she mumbled. Then a large grin crept across her face. "That was fun, though. Imoen usually cheats."

Xan's eyebrow rose in puzzlement. "She... cheats? At this game?"

Nuila nodded, absent-mindedly playing with a lock of her hair. "She'll get me to turn around to look at something and when I look back, she's managed to rub away my cross, or switch papers, or something."

He nodded slowly. "And you... you never cheat, I expect."

She gave him an indignant, but friendly, look. "Certainly not! And if you're implying that I cheated to beat you..." She paused, then peeked at him slyly. "Of course, I was the only one to win a game, so that means I beat you fair and square..."

He gave a snort of mock derision, hesitating for a second before he reached out to draw the parchment closer to him and picking up the now discarded charcoal. Nuila watched him with interest, slumped back against her chair in a lazy manner as she relaxed, a few halflings going about their business in the background. He guided the stick across the parchment lazily, his mind drifting in the warmth and peacefulness. Soon he had a rough depiction of a floral meadow, a lone, robed figure standing in the middle with flowing hair, and a smile on her face...

"May I see?" He started. Nuila had moved around to sit on the bench by his side, and was peering over his shoulder with apparent curiosity. He flinched as he looked more carefully at his drawing -- it was obviously meant to be her, but she didn't seem to be in a position to take no for an answer. Slowly, he moved aside.

"Oooh," she said, her eyes widening as she took it all in. "You're very good." Her hand reached out, and one slender finger gently traced down the drawn figure. "Is that... me?"

He nodded, silent as she grinned delightedly. "You can keep it, if you want. It was just a... rough... sketch..."

"Really? Thank you!" The parchment was laid, briefly, on the table, and her arms went flying around him. He thought back, remembering the last time she'd been this close; and how he'd missed the chance to hold her in return. And so he closed his eyes as tight as he could, inhaled for courage, and placed his arms, loosely, around her waist.

He had to fight hard to wipe the dreamy half-smile from his face when they did, eventually, part.