Steam wafted around Ren's head as he waited, the hot and humid sensation clinging to his skin and his ears while the smells soon found their way into his nostrils. He caught the scents of tar, pine and boiling water all mixed together – no doubt the escaping vapour from all the different pools were mixing together out here after being pumped from the rooms.

He was waiting outside a public bathhouse, of all places – a low, broad building of white brick trimmed with navy blue tiles and mosaics, with wide, curved arches over the doorways and between the pillars on the exterior. People came and went all around him, passing him by like he wasn't there as he leaned against one of said pillars, the marble pressing into his left shoulder while his right arm clutched the opposing elbow.

This was his usual waiting posture; slumped with his head held low and his eyes directed to the floor. Sometimes he would put his hands in his pocket... and as the thought occurred to him that there might be cutpurses prowling this part of the city, he did just that.

All around him, people from the lower classes swarmed on all sides like bees, with just as much buzz from their eager, excited discussions. Ruddy-faced farmers and callus-handed artisans approached stalls that were attended by portly, pleasant merchants in richly-dyed clothes, spending what money they had on luxuries to mark the occasion of the tournament. Several of said merchants, along with those who were clearly of higher-ranked trades like barbers and tailors, also passed him close by as they entered the public bathhouse, each one giving him a glance of either disdain or ignorance as he averted his eyes and pretended not to notice.

'Why did you do this, Ren?' he asked himself ruefully, even though he knew the answer, the idiot that he was.

He did it because the alternative was more terrifying to him. So as ever, he chose the least disagreeable path he had.

That philosophy had guided Ren's every action for years – in truth, it was the main reason he was even here in the city of Thalmont. He undoubtedly enjoyed the company of Logan, Romain and Finnan, though not so much with the others, but he chiefly stayed with the party to come here because the alternative was to start wandering Faerun alone again as he had been for so long – on the road, place-to-place, hand-to-mouth, ever lonely. With no-one to protect him...

And so he wound up here. After leaving the rest of the party alongside Arabella, the two of them had wandered into the western districts of Thalmont, which was thick with shops and stalls that appeared to be mainly selling fabrics and clothes fresh from the loom. And while up here, when they had spied the bathhouse, Arabella had asked Ren if they could stop there so she could change in one of the rooms there.

Waiting, the crowds pressing close around him only exacerbated the trembling feeling building up inside Ren. He knew that Arabella would be her usual cheerful self when she came out, but while most might feel drawn to that, the wizard instead found himself dreading it.

Part of him did wonder if him asking Arabella not to dote on him had hurt her, even though he'd tried to put it as delicately as possible.

And would she be angry about that? Or worse?

So on the one hand, he was scared of that. But on the other hand, he had frozen upon leaving the others because, while he didn't want to risk running into Milton, Anseis and Fulber again, he also didn't want to be alone as he wandered the streets of the unfamiliar city, especially when he would have to be so wary in case that... thing caught wind of him again.

In that case, he supposed that some company was better than none. And that he'd gotten what he asked for; Arabella would be out any moment, and two heads were better than one.

'Your wish came true...' he thought, his internal monologue taking on a grim, knowing tone. 'Just not how you wanted...'

Ren should have expected it to be this way – nothing he ever wished for went the way he wanted it to, and his whole life was now a nightmare because of it.

In the corner of his eyes, he glimpsed a flash of spun gold in the direction of the bathhouse, and he instantly looked up without thinking as his instincts kicked in. For once, they had led him right, as the blonde shimmer he had seen was, in fact, Arabella making her way towards him; only now, instead of her form-fitting riding trousers, heeled boots, corset and blouse, Arabella wore a gown of white and gold, the latter matching her hair perfectly, with puffed sleeves at the shoulders and lace around the cuffs. Her skirt had two layers, the gold laid over the white, and came right down to just above the floor while the bodice came to the top of her chest. A belt of crimson and bronze highlighted her waistline, a shoulderbag hung down by her side, and her golden heart necklace hung from about her slender neck down to her midriff.

As she drew near, the sound of heels clicking on the flagstones as she walked, a pleasant smile graced her lips as she said, "Thank you for waiting, Ren." Her lips were now a scarlet red colour, and the dark tracings around her eyes and lashes betrayed that she'd also put on makeup while she was in there.

"No worries..." Ren found himself replying softly as he glanced around. "But do you mind if we get a move on? I don't really like it here..." He felt stupid saying that, but he could feel the crowd seeming to hem in around him made him feel cramped and claustrophobic.

Arabella's smile faded, a caring look quickly filling her eyes. "Of course!" she said, gently touching his arm, the brush of her fingers as light as a summer breeze. "Let's find somewhere with a bit more space..."

Ren followed without argument, turning and walking deeper into the western districts of the city, passing by the market stalls that had sat around him for ages only to find even more lying in wait.

As they strolled between the overhanging buildings of pale stone topped with brightly coloured tiles, people began to clear the way as they passed... or more likely, as Arabella passed. Just one look at her, from her attire to the poised and proper way she walked, her back straight and her movements fluid as water, betrayed her as someone of noble bearing, and so people gave her right of way.

To Ren's surprise, however, Arabella didn't smirk or seemed pleased by this. Her full lips smiled and opened to thank those who stepped aside, but her eyes did not smile with her; a fact that made Ren's curiosity stir like a lion from his den before he turned his gaze from her.

'It's none of your business...' he reminded himself. 'Don't look where you're not wanted.'

Before long, they soon found their way out into an open plaza, and the hustle and bustle of shopping gave way to music and singing! Around fountains that spouted crystal-clear water into the air, the liquid shimmering under the sun, a menagerie of bards strummed their lutes, plucked their harps and pounded their drums as folk songs filled the air. In the centre of the open space, the ground decorated with a mosaic of a thousand different colours, a folk dance was going on, with people whirling in and around each other as bright silks ribbons trailed from their clothing and nearby revellers bellowed lyric to bawdy songs as they clanked their tankards together.

"No fortune found, nor fate divine,
Come close to topping the juice of the vine!
With cherry crew, we sip and sway,
Let's tip the tankard and waste the day!"

"Reeraw! Well ye ken, our toils can wait for a time!
We saw the folly of men who rather than revel, repine!
Reeraw! Well ye ken, our toils can wait for a time!
We saw the folly of men who rather than revel, repine! Hey!"

However, despite all this joy around them, silence reigned between Ren and Arabella, and a shiver ran through the wood elf wizard as he feared that the feeling between them was icy. Arabella lifted the skirt of her dress slightly as they climbed the small flight of steps to the plaza, shoulder bag and holy symbol whispering against the silk of her gown as he moved. As the dance came into sight, however, she broke the din of silence between them as her mouth suddenly broke into a beaming smile.

"Wow!" she gasped as the cavalcade of steps and spins caught her eye. "How incredible!"

Ren looked at the same sight and nodded. "I suppose..."

As expected, Arabella looked his way and her smile faded. However, when Ren was waiting for the silence to fall between them, Arabella's face fell, and she played nervously with her fingers as she turned his way and said "Whatever I did, Ren... I'm sorry."

Her tone was soft and sad, and she looked downwards in shame as he said it. And Ren stood there for a moment, completely off-guard before asking "What do you mean?"

'Idiot!' he told himself. But it was too late to take back what he said.

"I can only assume that I must have upset you, and I understand if you don't want to have me around you because of that..." she said, head lowered demurely. "Either way, whatever I did, I wanted to apologise."

The way she said that was rather stiff and formal, yet so innocent that it hurt, her tone tugging at Ren's heartstrings.

"What could you have done to upset me, Arabella?" he asked rhetorically before sighing and saying "If anything, I should apologize for hurting you. I didn't quite mean what I said when I asked you to leave me alone. It's... it's more that I'm still getting used to being around others again, and you doting on me like you do the others is something I don't think I'm yet ready for..."

Again, he tried his best to convey his thoughts through his words, and as he said this to Arabella, he saw her lift her gaze to his and hope appear in her eyes.

"Well, if it would make things easier for you, perhaps we could get to know each other a little better?" she suggested.

The thought of that made him wince a little internally. "Are you sure you want to do that, Arabella?" Ren asked her. "There's not much to say about me, really, and what there is probably won't be of much interest to you. No offence, but we don't have much in common."

Arabella looked pensive for a moment before speaking. "Well... we're both elves," she said hopefully. "That's something..."

If he were Stalk, he would have openly scoffed at that. Ren wasn't that type, but it was a rather naïve statement.

History said that all elves were the children of Corellon Larethian, Father of Elvenkind and First of the Seldarine, their pantheon of gods. But there were now as many subraces of elves as there were nations of humans; sun elves, moon elves, even sea elves. Most were even insulted to be mistaken for one another, tempers flaring if you got their subrace wrong, so gods help you if you couldn't tell the difference between them.

They were like a tree whose branches stretched in a thousand different directions – while their roots may have all been the same, the boughs were so far apart and obscured by so many pretty leaves that they might not be able to see their common origin.

People could distance themselves from each other over the silliest and most minor of things, Ren knew. Better than most.

"I'm not sure that's a huge common factor, Arabella. I'm a wood elf, for one." Ren explained to her.

Arabella nodded. "Very true. But what about your home? Are you from Evermeet, like me?" she asked curiously and earnestly.

Ren looked her way. "Well actually, I'm from Waterdeep, the City of Splendours. On the Sword Coast," he explained.

"Oh wow!" was the response Arabella gave. "I visited Waterdeep once, actually! It's a beautiful city!"

Her saying that made Ren's mind crackle with sudden jolts of surprise and curiosity, and before he knew it, his mouth had opened again. "You've been there?" he blurted out.

Arabella's golden locks tossed as she nodded. "Mhm! For the Grand Revel festival!" she told him. "I heard it was a festival of love and joy, and I couldn't help myself! I just had to take part – especially when I heard that the celebration was to do with love and romance!"

A small smile played upon Ren's lips as he heard mention of the Grand Revel – one of the many things he missed about home. "How long ago was this?" he found himself asking. "We might have missed each other."

"Just last year," Arabella replied. Entwining her fingers, she asked "It's a pity we didn't meet before. Have you only recently lived in Waterdeep?"

"Oh no..." Ren told her as he shook his head. "I was born and bred there. My parents emigrated there from the Dalelands before I was born to set up their weaving business. Not much market for anything more complex than blankets out in the Dales, and my father wanted to make a name for himself creating hangings, drapes and tapestries for the rich. So he took the risk and moved out to the city with Mum."

The memory of his father working non-stop at his loom within his crowded office, materials hanging from every surface all around him, made something tug at the corner of Ren's mouth. "Business boomed, and soon he and Mum were in a good enough position to have my brother Vin and me..."

However, his voice suddenly trailed off when the realization of how much he'd said sank into his stomach like a lead weight.

Arabella had opened the floodgates of his life, what he remembered and his desire to learn spilling forth in his every word. And as it happened, Ren was both relieved and terrified.

His companion, meanwhile, couldn't have looked happier if she tried. Grinning pleasantly, the white of her teeth contrasting with her lips, she then asked him another question: "Was it your family that made you decide to become a wizard?"

Ren felt his cheeks darken, embarrassed by and yet unable to stop his passions from worming their way into his words. "I guess... well, looking at tapestries all the time gave me ideas for creating new kinds of images and art. Bringing things into the world for people to behold, be inspired by and learn from, for better or worse," he said as the thought 'mostly for the worst' echoed inside his head.

When most people in the Realms thought of wizards, they thought of people who could throw fireballs, summon meteor showers, control the weather and summon creatures from other planes. Compared to them, Ren's tricks like turning invisible and creating illusory doubles were mere parlour tricks that weren't even worth their time. So in truth, he had dabbled in other areas of magic like evocation, transmutation and conjuration.

However, unaware of his pessimistic internal remark, Arabella looked at him and said in her demure voice, "That's a beautiful sentiment, Ren..."

Ren lifted his gaze to look at her. "You think so?" he asked. "You don't think it's silly? Most people do..."

"Not at all!" Arabella told him. "In fact, it's the very creed of my goddess..." she explained. "Hanali teaches us to appreciate the myriad forms of beauty, works of art among them. We have fine gardens outside our temples, which bear glorious fountains, crystal sculptures, and yes, tapestries of the finest make!" she told him with a wink. "Although, I assure you, I'll be writing home to my fellow Goldhearts to buy some from your family."

Surprise coursed through Ren as he heard this. "I, um... thank you," he said shyly.

Arabella smiled warmly. "Not at all..." she said. "If I can help it, I would like myself and my faith to be known for out generosity."

That response made Ren smile – clearly the heart of gold on her holy symbol wasn't just for show. "Well, thank you Lady... Moonflower, was it?" Even the word sounded pleasant on his tongue.

Moonflower... Moonflower.

Ren suddenly jarred to halt, stopping where his feet fell on stone of the plaza. "Wait a minute..." he said aloud.

Arabella slowed more gradually and gracefully as she turned his way. "Yes? Is everything alright?"

In that moment, thinking back on elven history and culture, Ren had never felt so stupid in all his life.

The book he'd been reading in Romain's library hadn't been the first roll of arms he'd read, and when he remembered Arabella's family name and her mention of being from Evermeet, something suddenly clicked.

Meeting Arabella's gaze, there was a long pause between them before Ren slowly and quietly began to ask, "Isn't House Moonflower the royal family of Evermeet?"

It was then Arabella's turn to blush, and she looked away again, her cheeks pink. "Yes..." she answered softly, keeping her composure. "But I would ask that you keep that to yourself..."

Ren got what she was meaning, and as the two of them continued to walk, he subtly guided them away from the crowd of dancers before he suddenly became the one answering the questions.

He asked Arabella about why she was out here, and to her credit, she answered truthfully – telling him stories about the death of her father and attempting to find something to fix her mother's broken heart, along with her training as a cleric.

Inside, Ren's own heart bled, and while he felt he could do little to comfort her, he couldn't help but ask one final question:

"Wouldn't it be easier if you were to let your title be known?"

Arabella reached up to play with a lock of her hair, her composed and elegant demeanour visibly giving way to nerves a little bit, "Well, you see, Ren... whenever people learn about who I am, it had the opposite effect of what I want. I want them to know me better, and to treat me like a person, like a friend," she explained. "But instead, I immediately become a complete stranger; all they see of me is my title, not the person behind it."

Her words seemed to reach out and touch Ren, and in a weird way, he understood. As he had waxed lyrical earlier about elves only seeing each other by their subraces, he empathized with how Arabella might only presume to know Arabella by her title.

Besides, he wasn't a fool – while he'd not spent any time in proper high society back home in Waterdeep, he'd read about the games of the noble houses of the world in books and such. Whenever anyone came to you as a friend in royal courts, it was often because they wanted to exploit you in some way; your position, your knowledge, your wealth, your family name...

And as he looked at Arabella, it was plain for him to see that she'd faced much of that for herself.

'I guess we all have our secrets...' Ren thought to himself then. He then asked, "Do you think of Evermeet often?"

Arabella gave a sad smile as he said that, and when he opened his mouth to apologize, she stopped him and said, "Don't worry, Ren – you haven't upset me... but I do miss home sometimes." Her turquoise eyes then visibly filled with nostalgia. "I miss the sight of the moon-horses dancing on the prairies and the herds of Pegasi swooping over the mountaintops..." She seemed to stare into the distance and her voice took on a dreamy tone as she spoke, as though she were scrying there and then to view her island home once again. "And the Moonstone Palace, my family home... I think you'd love to see it, Ren."

Her words had piqued Ren's curiosity. "Why?" he asked softly.

Arabella smiled. "Where do I begin? The entire building is carved from white marble and solid crystal. But what I think you'd love in particular is the Dome of Stars, which sits above my mother's throne room – by day, it depicts mosaics of elven history, but by night, illusion magic washes them away to reveal a perfect view of the stars, unobscured by the clouds or all else that might mask its serene, tranquil beauty," she told him. "Forgive me – I wouldn't wish to sound braggadocious – but it's just one of the many marvels of arcane and divine magic we have there..."

"Sounds wonderful." Ren replied, smiling as the thought of studying such wonders crossed his mind. "Almost as amazing as the Walking Statues of Waterdeep, who protect our city in its times of need..."

Arabella's grin widened. "I remember those, actually..." she told him. "Incredible constructs indeed. But I also miss Evermeet for my companions there – my fellow Goldheart clerics and noble ladies. We would pray and sing in the temples, and have tea parties in the gardens and forests throughout the island."

Ren chuckled and almost rolled his eyes then and there. "Tea parties? Gods above, Arabella, could you get any more girly?" he asked her, taking care to heed what she'd mentioned earlier and not use her title.

Arabella giggled, covering her mouth as she did so. "I could certainly try..." she said. "I could put on one of my pink or purple dresses, but I'd prefer not to make you wait for me to change again..." she smiled at him as she said that.

As he heard that, a question ran through Ren's mind. "Where do you keep all these clothes, Arabella?" he asked as he gestured to her dress. He'd seen Arabella in about five or six different outfits since he'd met her, and what she just said earlier implied to him that she had even more. Where was she getting them all from?

As he asked his question, though, the high elf's full lips curled into a slightly mischievous smile. "Well, if you're a wizard, I'm sure you will be smart enough to see..." she said before turning to the side to reveal the shoulder bag that hung from her person by a single strap.

At first it seemed ordinary – made of supple brown leather trimmed with ornamental patterns in turquoise and gold. But as his eyes fell upon it, a familiar tingle struck the air around him.

The tingle of the Weave; of magic.

Immediately raising a hand, Ren's fingers traced a Divination sigil in the air and his mouth whispered the words "Detect Magic," and as he did so, the bag lit up with the power of the Weave; Ren could see strands of light snaking through the flaps, straps and buckles, all while feel pulses of crackling heat radiate from its leather surfaces and a strange, metallic taste flicker upon on his tongue. Feeling these, he focused on what lay beyond the glowing surface, only to feel his mind bore into a bottomless pit and plummet for what seemed like forever.

The darkness frightened him, but the low of his terror was tempered by the jolt of surprise that shot through him when he recognized what the item was.

A Bag of Holding!

"Where did you get that from?!" he asked, his voice a squeak of surprise that made Arabella giggle again. He quickly covered his mouth again as a few people around them glanced his way, blushing as he then half-whispered "Sorry."

"It's alright," Arabella told him. "I bought it before I left home. I was originally going to try and choose just a few dresses I'd bring with me..." she said "... but I couldn't bear to part with any of them, so I decided to invest in one of these."

Ren couldn't help but snicker as she told him this. "Buying a magic item just for the sake of fashion..." he said. "Forgive me, Arabella, but I'm not sure that was a wise investment..."

Arabella gasped as she heard this, clearly playing it up for laughs. "Ren, that would be an unforgivable scandal!" she told him. "You can't possibly expect a lady to wear the same thing everyday! Why, that would be the cruellest punishment imaginable!"

The two of them then giggled to each other as glee filled the air around them, with even the nearby revellers catching a lick of their joy and guffawing loudly over the pair, even though they couldn't have the faintest idea what Ren and Arabella had been talking about.

Still, even though it was a giggle, Ren had to lift a hand to his eyes and wiped away a wetness that he could feel against his eyelids.

It had been a long time since he'd laughed that hard, nor felt so good doing so. But in that moment, he felt a sense of relief wash through him, his whole body feeling lighter and less weary as he stood up straighter.

And when she saw him do this as her own laughing came to a close, Arabella's eyes seemed to sparkle. "Pardon my saying so, Ren... but you seemed to have cheered up," she told him.

Ren felt his face heat up again as he smiled and looked at the floor, knowing he was blushing again. Only this time, the blush wasn't from embarrassment.

If anything, it was from relief.

"Just don't tell the others, okay?" he joked. "I have a reputation to uphold as the mopey wimp and bookworm who gets bullied by everyone else..."

By this point in his life, he didn't know whether he was kidding or being serious anymore. But as he said that, Arabella's gaze became firm, and he instantly knew she wasn't having it.

"If anyone bullies you, Ren, tell me or one of the others about it," she said. "And we'll do our best to stick up for your and protect you." After a pause, she added, "I certainly will."

Her words surprised Ren so much that he wondered if he was dreaming again. "Really? You'd to that for me?" he asked.

Arabella responded by smiling the warmest smile he'd seen and laying a hand upon his cheek, her elegant fingers caressing his soft jawline as she told him, "That's what you do for a friend..."

Ren was still as stone in that moment, and yet his body felt split – yanked in two different directions by invisible cords that were lashed around his spare frame. He had told Arabella not to do this, and yet even as she did it, he found himself wanting it. Her care alighted something within him; not romantic attraction, but something else entirely, even more endemic to the desires of men, elves and all mortals...

The desire for companionship, and for a place to belong. For love, in other words.

In that moment, he felt the barriers between then come down, and he asked Arabella a single question.

"Why are you being so kind to me, Arabella?"

Arabella's reply stirred his eyes and heart with emotion. "Because it's in my nature, Ren. I can see there's a sweet, loving young man hidden in there somewhere, and I want to help him however I can," she told him as she slowly let her hand fall from his cheek. "Now, since we have some time to ourselves, how would you feel about a nice shopping trip for the two of us?" she asked, beaming. "I need the help of a textiles expert, truth be told – I'm looking for materials for a new dress I'm finishing up."

Ren couldn't look both more bashful and more pleased if he tried. "Well, I don't know about the word 'expert', and my knowledge lies more in tapestries than in dresses..." But he stopped talking then; fear began to caress his senses again as he realized he sounded like he was making excuses.

Fear still drove him, as ever. But so did an emotion that Ren hadn't truly felt for so long that, for a while, he couldn't name the warm, uplifting feeling that was welling up within his chest.

But then, the word for it clicked in his head. Joy.

And so he finished his sentence with "... but that sounds like a plan. My friend."

Arabella beamed as he said this, and so without any further delays, they went to the clothing markets and enjoyed the most pleasant girly shop that Ren had ever experienced...