Viconia sat in her favorite chair in her small home just putting the final touch to knitting a pair of baby-socks. Putting down her pins, she lovingly stroked a hand over her swollen belly. Her seventh child would be born soon.

'Bang!' sounded from upstairs, and two giggling girls ran down, a boy in hot pursuit.

Ah, such fine kids they were, short of Drow, of course, but they had the tell-tale skin and hair of their people... Too bad their noses were so big.

"Kids, don't run in the hallways!" Viconia shouted, but smiled in spite of herself.

"Momma!" her son Joost sniffed. "Marietje and Mariken have stolen my dolly!"

"You're a boy, you're supposed to play with swords, not dollies!" Mariken, her youngest daughter shot at her son, a plump and sensitive boy.

"Joost can make that decision on his own," Viconia said sternly. "Now, give him back Mister PrissyPants, or there'll be no turnip after dinner for you."

"Awww, mom!" Mariken whined.

"Quiet!" Viconia said. "I think I hear your father coming home."

"Honey," Jan shouted as he walked into the room while Viconia bent down to be kissed on the cheek, "I'm home!"

"AIIIEEEEEEEEEE!!!" Viconia found herself sitting upright in bed, bathing in sweat and near hyperventilation as her fearful eyes darted through her large room at the Trademeet Inn.

"S'up, Vic?" she heard the tired voice of Imoen call out. On the other side of the large bed, Imoen lay on her stomach, muttering into her pillow. Still, Imoen was not willing to sleep alone, so Viconia allowed her to sleep in her bed again tonight. There were only a few rooms available at the Inn, so they all had to made do anyway. Minsc, Jan and Dynaheir were stuck together as well, as were Keldorn and Korgan, but Viconia knew that Laska wouldn't mind sharing a room with Rose.

"Oh, Tymora," Viconia rubbed her eyes and ran her hands through her long white hair, before plopping backwards on her pillow. "What a horrid, horrid dream."

"I know just how to fix that," Imoen said and sat upright. Biting her tongue softly while she waved arcane gestures, the willed a decanter of milk standing at the foot-end of the bed to pour a glass. Afterwards, she willed her magic to levitate the glass, while a jet of flame shot from her fingers and hit the bottom of the glass. A few seconds later, she slowly allowed the glass to float to to Viconia's waiting hand.

"It seems you have improved," Viconia said as she eagerly drank her milk.

"Vic," Imoen giggled after Viconia finished her milk. "You've got a milk-mustache."

"You never saw that," Viconia half-snarled as she wiped the milk from her upper lip.

"But..."

"YOU NEVER SAW THAT!" Viconia stressed.

"Pffff," Imoen snorted. "Iffy..."

"Exactly," Viconia muttered.

"Vic?"

"Yes?"

"Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"You're talking to me right now, aren't you?"

"I meant, talking with you for a moment."

"What? Don't tell me you need to go to the bathroom again."

"Hey, I only asked you because it was dark and I needed someone to heal me if I slipped over the mat!"

"You asked because you hate the sight of me sleeping peacefully. Who goes to the bathroom thrice in one hour?!"

"No, no, it's just because I drank too much orange-juice at dinner! Besides, I always wanted to use one of those modern indoor-outhouses."

"So, you want to chat the ears off my head again?"

"Well, it's just that there's... something which kept me up thinking tonight," Imoen sighed.

"Gee, was that before or after you did your rusty sawmill imitation?" Viconia retorted and laid on her side.

"Well, I can't think all night, can I?!" Imoen said and plopped her head back on her pillow. "A girl needs her beauty sleep, or I'll be tripping over the bags under my eyes next morning. And that's not fun, I tell you. They get stretched out even further until you have to tie them down with ropes to keep them from drooping, I tells ya! And I..."

"Good night!" Viconia snarled and tossed about, turning her back to Imoen and pulling the covers over her.

"Vic, wait, it was just a joke," the pink-hair mage pleaded. "I'm just a bit frightened and..."

"What is it, then?" Viconia said, rolling back to face her friend.

"Well, remember the reading the Rom woman did for me. I told you about that at dinner," Imoen asked.

"Vaguely," Viconia said. "Look, such things are merely superstition, not worth any loss of sleep... for either of us."

"I know, but Kveroslava knew Boo's name before Minsc even came into the tent!" Imoen said.

"Are you really that surprised? Minsc bellows Boo's name all over town!" Viconia laughed. "You worry about nothing."

"Maybe but... I get the shivers whenever I think about it. 'It's like you're not here', what does that MEAN?!" Imoen sighed and curled up into a fetal position.

"You're really worried about this, aren't you?" Viconia sighed while Imoen nodded.

"I don't remember what happened to me at the Asylum," Imoen said. "I just know they did something to me, but I don't know what! And every time I try to remember, it feels as if my head is getting split in two by an axe!"

"Hmmm," Viconia muttered. "Well, there is a spell I can do..."

"No!" Imoen shouted suddenly, then continued in a calmer voice. "I... I think I'd rather not know. I don't know why, but I just rather not know."

"Then what do you want, huh?!" Viconia snapped. "Lying about and moping?"

"I want to go back to things as they were," Imoen said as her sobs filled the dark room. "I've missed too much while I was locked up. I've missed so many adventures and exploring and making friends and learning magic on my own... I know Laska's an elf, and they take things easy and all that... but was it really that hard to invest some time in saving her sister?"

"Here thoughts were with you constantly," Viconia said. "She just wanted to be sure that she, and we, were strong enough to get you out of that prison."

"I know, I know, but... it still hurts," Imoen said. "All that waiting... And, nothing's the same anymore. Laska has a house, a lover, new friends gained so much... and I was never there to see it. Rose and Laska probably having fun together right now..."

Viconia looked up, putting her ears in the air. "Well, if I hear correctly, they're..."

"I really don't want to know!" Imoen snapped. "I want the old Laska back! You know, the one you and I could have fun with going out on the town, pulling pranks, watching her drink herself stupid... Remember the time at Feldepost's Inn in Beregost where she started dancing on the table and taking off her clothes to show off her new tattoos?"

"How could I forget?" Viconia snorted. "We were chased out of the inn by Feldepost... and then the men in the inn started tossing chairs at Feldepost for sending us away."

"And now, suddenly, everything is different. I've asked her enough times, but she didn't want to go on the town to have fun with me anymore. I suddenly have to share her time with Rose. It know... a lot has changed so quickly, but..."

"What's your point?" Viconia asked.

"I... just don't think I trust her anymore," Imoen sighed. "I know it's not rational, but... I mean, she's always been looking out for me as long as I can remember. She's always been taking care of me, keeping me safe. She even took an arrow for me once, back at the bandit camp near Baldur's Gate!" Imoen said, her eyes growing wide. "It went straight into her chest, she could have died! But, then, why did she keep me waiting at that horrible asylum?!"

"I don't have an answer for you," Viconia said. "I cannot ease you mind. This is for Laska to answer, not for me. Perhaps, the two of us could talk to her, or I could talk to her for you if you're afraid of what answer she might give."

"NO!" Imoen snapped, but caught herself. "Just... please don't tell her. I think I want her to figure it out on her own."

"Hah!" Viconia chuckled. "Well, you're in for a long wait. Laska's not one for subtlety."

"Just the same," Imoen sighed.

"Fine."

"Thanks, Vic... Thanks for being my friend."

"Okay, can we go to sleep now?"

"Just a minute," Imoen said and Viconia felt the pink mage inching closer.

"Stay on your own half on the bed," Viconia said and countered Imoen's movements.

"Oh, come on, I wanna give you a hug! Good friends always hug after these types of conversations."

"No, get away from me!"

"Oh, come on, let's cuddle!"

"No!"

"Don't be a sourpuss."

A flash of magic lighted up the room and, soon enough, Imoen's sawmill-like snores filled the room after Viconia finished her 'Sleep'-spell.

"Sleep tight, Imoen," Viconia smiled and tucked in her friend. "Sleep peacefully so I can have some rest too."