Jarran strode up the aisle to the stage of his playhouse. The actors were bickering over the interpretation of a line when they were startled by the loud thud of a bundle of papers hitting the wooden boards.
"All right," he growled. "There is your script. Learn it."
Higgold the director and the actors huddled around the script, slowly turning pages as they went through his changes. He stood with his arms crossed and a stony expression on his face, hoping that no hint of the butterflies he felt showed through. When a squabble over improvised lines and re-written scenes had broken out, he had taken charge of the situation by re-writing the play himself.
Finally they reached the end. Zaren looked up with a grin. "This... this script is wonderful, patron!" Jarran's nervousness subsided only slightly. Zaren had been the first to suggest changes, so naturally he would react positively.
Higgold nodded thoughtfully. "I agree. If anything, you have made the Turmish play better than it was. Congratulations, patron, you have done the impossible."
Iltheia drawled, "And finally something we can actually learn! I can't believe we're making changes to the Turmish play, though..."
Higgold clapped his hands loudly. "Well, this is the script we're using and that's final. I don't want to hear any complaints about it, so off you go. We've wasted enough time, so let's get started." After the actors had moved away, he said in a low voice, "I am surprised that there was not more objection. There are those in the theatre world who believe the Turmish play is nigh on sacred, and to change a single word is blasphemy."
Jarran snorted. "Nonsense. The play needed revision. The romance was overly melodramatic and some of the lines were more humorous than touching, and they weren't intended to be! The Karenina character had so little sense I couldn't imagine why Velden would fall in love with her. 'Sorcerer's Bane' is not all it is cracked up to be."
"Shhh!" Higgold looked around nervously. "Please, patron, I would prefer you refer to it as the Turmish play. Some of the actors get upset so easily."
"Superstitious nonsense. Oh, if it will keep you from jumping out of your skin I won't use its real name."
Jarran watched the rehearsal, and was so engrossed in making mental notes that he was startled to hear a voice at his side. "So you have managed to placate them once again. I never imagined you would take the playhouse this seriously."
"I have to, Jaheira. If I hadn't planned to do my best, I never would have taken on the responsibility."
"Responsibilities... yes, we have many of them these days, do we not? Keldorn with his cult problem, the situation in Trademeet, this playhouse... we have many who turn to us for help."
Jarran sighed. "And all I want to do is go get Imoen. We have enough money now. Why... something is holding me back, and I don't know what."
The druid looked at him thoughtfully. "Let us go to your office. We should talk."
They retreated to the quiet back room that served as Jarran's private sanctuary. He settled down into his chair with a sense of relief, then stirred. "Someone's been sitting in my chair!"
"How do you know?"
"I had the cushions just right, and they've moved."
"Oh. Well. I... it was me."
"You?"
"I wanted a place to think, and you seem to find this a peaceful spot, so..."
"It's all right, I don't mind if it's you. What did you want to talk about?"
"There is something you are keeping from us... from me."
He stared at her for a long moment. Finally he said hoarsely, "I'm... troubled about finding this prison."
"Why?"
"He's there, too."
"Ah," she said with understanding. "You still fear Irenicus?"
"No... yes... it's so hard to explain. I know we will be able to fight him when the time comes, but there's something... There's something I can't bring to the surface of my mind. I just remember being afraid. Very, very afraid." He closed his eyes and swallowed hard.
"Of course you were afraid. We were in that terrible place for many weeks."
"No, this is something else. Something that I'm sure if I remembered it, it would drive me insane. He did something to me too terrible to face, and knowing that it frightened me that badly is terrifying in itself."
Jaheira placed her hand on his arm. "What could he have done that was so awful?"
"I don't know and I'm not sure I want to know. He's... he's been in my dreams, too."
"Dreams? You mean... those dreams?"
"Yes. He taunts me and insists I have no choice but to accept my heritage. Even in my sleep he torments me."
"But surely it is not Irenicus causing those dreams."
"No. But it is interesting that my mind chooses him to be the face of evil. And Imoen is there as well, my voice of reason. By the gods, I miss her, Jaheira."
She seemed to study him. "Perhaps you need something to improve your confidence. Something to remind you of the man you were before we were captured. Whenever you deal with the actors, for all your aggravation, it seems to give you strength, for it reminds you of why you became a bard. We need to discover how to bring the old Jarran back."
"The old Jarran?" he said with a laugh. "The headstrong boy stumbling from crisis to crisis? Come to think of it, perhaps nothing has changed."
"There has to be something... I have it. Your hair."
"My...what?!"
"You came out of Irenicus' dungeon looking as if you were a barbarian rather than an educated bard. Who would think to look at you that you were raised among monks? I doubt Gorion would recognize you."
"I suppose not. But I don't feel like the person I was in Baldur's Gate. I can't recapture that... innocence with a haircut."
"No, but it will make the man you face in the mirror seem less of a stranger."
"Oh, well, it can't hurt."
They went upstairs to their quarters. Jaheira found a comb and a pair of scissors and set to work.
The first thing that they discovered is that Jarran's long thick hair was full of snarls and tangles. The resulting profanity as Jaheira tried to remove them would have impressed a sailor. Kay roused from the pillow he had been sleeping on and zipped out of the room.
"If you are going to wail like an infant," she snapped, "then I suppose I must get a basin of water and wash this... this rat's nest. Stay." She walked out in a huff, leaving Jarran feeling foolish.
While she was gone, Keldorn returned. He had left that morning while Jarran worked on the play. The knight stopped, his eyebrows raised as he stared at the bard. Jarran could feel himself blushing. Jaheira had left his hair sticking out at assorted odd angles. "Jaheira's, ah, cutting my hair."
"It would appear she has abandoned the field of battle."
"She went for water to wash it. How are you feeling today, my friend?"
"A bit better. I went to the Order to gather some information, and then I went to my temple. I... I walked past my home, but I knew I could not enter. Are we still to start our investigation of the cult tomorrow?"
"Unless something comes up to change our plans."
"Excellent. I will confess I look forward to the distraction."
Jaheira returned with a basin of steaming water. "All right, dunk your head into this. I will get your hair clean if I must scrub the whole night."
"I washed it just the other day in the stream," he protested.
"Ha! These snarls say differently. When was the last time you used a comb?"
"Jaheira!"
At that moment she noticed that Keldorn had returned and stared at him intently. "Ah, you are back. Tell me, are you feeling well? You do not seem yourself. If you need healing..."
"I am fit enough, Jaheira, but thank you all the same. I did not sleep well, nothing more."
Jaheira gave a small snort, obviously not completely believing the paladin. She set to lathering Jarran's hair with soap. He closed his eyes, secretly enjoying the feel of her fingers massaging his scalp. Just when he felt that he could fall asleep from the relaxation, she rinsed the soap out and returned to her struggle with his tangles.
"Ow! Slow down! Youch!" Jarran howled.
"Cease your complaining!"
"Bloody hells, just shave it off, it would be less painful!"
"Nonsense."
Anomen and Minsc returned, the concern on their faces changing to grins when they saw where the cries of pain were coming from. "That's right, everyone enjoy my agony," Jarran growled.
"Perhaps you should have come with us to Cromwell's. A blacksmith's forge would have been safer," Anomen laughed.
"I'm sure he did quite well with two strong assistants. The armor looks good on you, Minsc."
Minsc grinned. "Evil will flee in terror when they see red justice approaching!"
I certainly would if I saw him coming after me. Jarran had to admit that the sight of Minsc in red dragon armor was truly impressive. "Well, at least... dammit, Jaheira... at least I don't have Jan telling me some long tale about a relative getting his hair eaten by a griffin. Where is he, anyway?"
Jaheira snorted. "He was playing cards with some halflings downstairs when I saw him last."
"Jaheira, watch that comb! You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am. It is very entertaining to watch you whine over such a small thing as hair."
"Minsc doesn't know why you are this way, Jarran. Boo says you were very brave in the wizard's dungeon."
"That was different. I didn't want to let that bastard have any more satisfaction than I had to."
"Then give me the satisfaction of holding still. I almost have your tangles out," Jaheira said.
"My, aren't we being pleasant?"
"What do you expect me to do while I am wrestling with this hair, read you love poetry?"
"It would be more entertaining then having my neck wrenched this way and that."
"Well, I do not know any. Maybe your friends do."
Keldorn said thoughtfully, "I have not read poetry to Maria in many years... ex-excuse me." He left the room quickly.
"Minsc is sorry, but he does not read poetry. Boo tells me some, sometimes, but it is not love poetry."
Then, much to everyone's surprise, Anomen started reciting.
"Like an apple tree among the trees of the forest
Is my lover among the young men.
I delight to sit in his shade
And his fruit is sweet to my taste.
He had taken me to the banquet hall
And his banner over me is love.
Strengthen me with raisins,
Refresh me with apples,
For I am faint with love."*
Jarran gave the priest an amazed stare. "I didn't know you had it in you, Anomen."
Anomen blushed slightly. "I cannot take credit, my friend, I did not write it. It was one of my mother's favorites."
"Your mother?"
"Mother was frequently ill. I am sorry to say that she sickened easily. When she was confined to her bed, Moira and I would read to her to take her mind off her troubles. She was especially fond of romantic stories and poems."
"Boo thinks it was very pretty, but now Minsc is hungry."
They all laughed. Jaheira said with a chuckle, "Well, your hair is finally free of snarls. Now, how do you want me to cut it? As it was in Baldur's Gate?"
"No... no, that was too short. Leave it about at my shoulders."
"That will still be a tremendous improvement, my friend. And I am sure you would like me to trim your beard."
"Just as long as..."
"I will not trim it so short that your scars show through," she said in a low voice. She began to cut the thick mane while Jarran continued to complain of her rough treatment.
At last she was finished, and handed Jarran a hand mirror. "Well?"
Jarran felt a bit of a shock when he looked at his reflection. The man looking back did not look as haggard as he had before. He looked more confident, more in control of his life. At the same time, he could tell that the youthful sparkle that had been there the year before was gone. There was no innocence, no naiveté left in his gaze. Whether or not this new appearance would have the positive result that Jaheira hoped for, only time would tell.
"I think... that it's an improvement. Thank you, Jaheira."
"I just hope it helps you forget... well, you understand." She looked embarrassed, but she met his gaze without turning aside.
The intense look that passed between them was interrupted by a small streak running through the room. Jan dove under one of the beds. "If a halfling comes looking for me, I've left Amn and won't be back."
"Cheating at cards, Jan?"
"Never! Just a slight disagreement on how many ace of griffins there are in a deck. Just pretend you don't know me and everything will be fine. What's with the hair, anyway?"
* Song of Songs, chapter 2, verses 3-5, The Bible