1. So, I woke up a little before 6:00 on Wednesday morning to go to the bathroom, and before I could fall back asleep, this thing had pretty much already written itself in my head. I was pleasantly surprised… and also annoyed, because I wanted to go back to bed. Hmph.
2. The title: Don’t ask. I don’t know.
3. Sappy drivel. I know, I know... I can't believe it, either.
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“You look weary, my love.”
”I’m exhausted.”
Anomen Delryn smirked a knowing smirk. “Did I not tell you that attempting to bargain Ribald down from a price would be more trouble than it was worth? I warned you.” There was something about the way he waggled his finger at her that reminded her very much of a certain druid she knew.
Enara sighed, but then smiled when she saw his expression. Okay. He’d been right. She was big enough of a person to realize when she’d made a mistake. She could admit it. “You did. And I, in my smug self-assuredness, thought I could handle it.” She shot him an apologetic look. “I sincerely regret my overconfidence.”
He smiled. “I should have gone in your place.”
“Oh?” One of her eyebrows rose higher than the other. The corner of her mouth quirked upwards as part of her customary ‘sarcastic mode’ manner. “Why’s that? I’m the woman in this relationship, last time I checked. I thought it was -my- job to do all the domestic-type stuff. That’s what normal couples do, or so I thought.”
He laughed, refusing to take the bait. “There is nothing normal about our relationship, Enara… and so much the better. Besides, I -am- the son of a merchant.”
“Wouldn’t help you much with Ribald,” she groused. “He’s too good at what he does.” She shook her head. “I don’t get it. Healing potions are pricey enough, as it is, and he’s still marking them up. Silly things cost a king’s ransom now.”
Another laugh. “I believe this is the part where you wax lyrical about how things were far better in ‘The Good Old Days’ and then complain about the general moral bankruptcy of contemporary society.”
She rolled her eyes and let herself sag against the couch cushions behind her. “Do I really sound that old?”
“I probably shouldn’t answer that.”
Enara feigned a “positively-scandalized” look. She touched a hand to her breastbone. “I see. So that’s how it is. You just remember, pal, that you’re over thirty, and I’m not. You’re well past your prime, and I’m not.” She stuck her tongue out at him.
“If I recall correctly, you have been twenty-nine for the past three years.”
“Liar.”
He looked up from polishing his armor, and raised his right hand, as if the rag he held in it was a holy symbol. “By my honor as a Knight of the Order of the Most Radiant Heart, I swear before Helm that I am telling the truth.”
“Drat.”
She unlaced her boots, kicked them off, and propped her feet up on his lap. “All right, all right. So I’m old. You did promise me we’d grow old together, though.”
He picked up her left foot and gave it an affectionate squeeze. “I did, didn’t I? Oh well, I am a man of my word.” He leaned over, took her chin in between his thumb and forefinger, and kissed her on the lips. She pulled back, grinning.
”Yuck!”
“I kiss you and you say ‘Yuck’?”
“I’ve never kissed you without a beard before!”
He chuckled. “I suppose it is a bit unusual.”
She nodded, then smiled puckishly. “It’ll take some getting used to. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you did it to try and look younger than you actually are.” She picked up a small wand from a nearby table and pointed it at a wooden box a few feet away. The glass-like panel set in the side lit up with imagery, and sound emerged from somewhere within.
Anomen frowned slightly. “I know your sister gave it to us, but why do we keep this strange box?”
“Well, why wouldn’t we? It’s actually kind of interesting, if you give it a chance. You’d be surprised how oddly compelling it is to watch complete morons consume horse rectum. Real popular in those degenerate southern countries. You know, like Chult.”
He smirked. “Or Amn?”
“I’d never say such a thing!” She whispered, “I have to live here, you know. So… not going to lecture me on the evils of modern technology?”
“I own a mephit-powered beard trimmer… which I have no need for now, but I still own one. I doubt I’m in any position to lecture -anyone- on the pitfalls of modern technology.”
“Probably right about that. Speaking of Imoen, wonder what she’s up to…”
As if on cue, loud, campy, and decidedly over-acted, “demonic” laughter came out of nowhere. Enara rolled her eyes. “Immy, you know the pantheon doesn’t like it when you do stuff like that.”
The voice that responded was strangely disembodied, but sounded just as familiar as always. “But, Nar-”
“Don’t make me come up there…”
The reply sounded very dejected as it trailed off. “Okaaaay.”
“You miss her, don’t you?”
Enara beamed innocently at her husband. “Sure. Like I miss a lot of things – colic, for one. Rectal thermometry, for another. Anyway, have you heard? Nalia’s running for political office.”
“Truly?”
“Yeah, can you believe it? Our little Nalia, a big, bad politican?”
“ ‘Our little Nalia?’ ”
She shrugged. “I kinda feel responsible for her. I mean, I know, I know, I’m not exactly old enough to be her mother; I’m not old enough to be -anyone’s- mother.”
“Actu-”
She cut him off with a wink. “Physically, yes. Emotionally, no. And speaking of parenthood-”
“Nice segue.”
She didn’t miss a beat. “Thank you. You know who’d make good parents?” He shook his head, so she answered her own question. “The always-copulating half elves that live upstairs.”
He laughed at that. “They’re -you’re- friends.”
“No, they were Gorion’s friends…” She withered when he shot her a skeptical look. “All right, they’re -my- friends, too. But I’m actually starting to regret that whole ‘Hey, before you go and take my godhood and jam it where the sun don’t shine, could you please resurrect my dead friend so that my dead friend’s widow won’t be so tragically lonely all the time’ spiel.”
“A little late for regrets, now.”
“Right.”
“I walked in… sometime last tenday, I believe it was, and saw the two of them on this very couch.”
Enara laughed out loud, and smacked the heel of her hand against her forehead. “Don’t tell me… I don’t need to hear all the salacious details…”
Plaster suddenly began to flake off the walls.
* Thump Thump Thump *
“W-When’s it going to be m-my turn?!” a voice drifted down through the ceiling.
Anomen and Enara traded shocked expressions.
The cleric scratched at his chin, frowning when he realized he no longer had a beard there. “When we… do we…”
“I wouldn’t know. I tend to be unconscious during a lot of that,” she teased. She closed her eyes, and mumbled something while pretending to be half-asleep. “Quit doin’ that to me, I’m sleepin’…”
He glared at her; she snickered and poked him in the ribs with her toe. “So… we figure out what we’re doing tomorrow?”
“Zhentarim over by Mirabar…” he mused.
“Demilich in Evereska…” she pointed out.
“Dragon hordes near Ascore…”
