Dedicated to Lord Mirraboo for his Imoen Romance mod and to the person who wrote the first but incomplete Imoen romance fanfiction “The Healing”. You can read it in Fanfiction.net.
CHAPTER 1
Memories and a Confusing Relation
Happiness yet confusion were all that she felt as she thought back to old memories.
Imoen looked out of the window of her quarters. Outside the stony walls of the aging fortress of knowledge was the beautiful sight of grasslands, valleys, and trees, not to mention the grayish but majestic mountains to the west. She couldn’t forget about those mountains. It reminded her of him. Hurt and weathered from conflicts, yet standing seemingly tall and strong against all the horrors placed before him.
Despite the reminder bringing a small smile to her face, the reminder also brought a weathering of worry.
The young girl stretched till she was satisfied that her muscles were ready to move for a new day and jumped from her bed. With a lax yawn, she shed her nightgown and readied a simple outfit: a purple tunic and green trousers, held together by her trademark belt. The belt was also a reminder of good times, when it was just her, him, and the road ahead. Imoen slipped on a pair of sandals, exited out of her room and headed towards the library for due studies.
“Him,” she thought. It was back then…
~~~
Three years ago…
~~~
After the whole ordeal from the siege of Tethyr and the Bhaalspawns that sought plans for the glory of blood and conquest and the resurrection of Bhaal destroyed, the worst was now put to rest at the time being. Imoen now wanted to abandon her dark past, to journey away from the darkness with her brother aside her. She had enough and wanted to free herself from the painful memories, her cursed lineage, and Irenicus. It was all but whispering memory to her ears while the anticipation of traveling beside her brother to a new road only resided in her mind.
Imoen adored her brother very much. He had put his life at the hands of death to save her from the pains of her capture and restored her soul from the vampiress Bohdi. There was a lot that she wanted to thank him for, yet the dangerous events prevented her to actually express her gratitude. Now that the Realms saved and all that, Imoen wanted to spend time with him to substitute all the times she had missed, to have fun sharing her life with her brother free from all the life-threatening battles, the restless waves of danger, and the meddlesome, bloody divinity.
The situation of Tethyr had but been heavy for Imoen. Every step they took brough endless, deadly obstacles before them, testing the fates to see if they could continue to survive. She was so afraid for every minute and wary of the chance that her brother would be taken away from her. One by one at every conflict emerged, the stakes seemed to grown higher from every peak of continual combat. However, when there were times when luck appeared to run out on their favor, he would come of the fray victorious and with a tired smile that brought assurance and relief to Imoen.
When the time came for Solar to grant them wishes as an award for their services, Imoen gladly wished away her Bhaal essence from her blood. Never again she would have to constantly struggle the evil within her again. However, when the divine messenger gave her brother the choice to become a god. She was unsure about what decision he would choose. Should he choose for divinity, surely he would no longer be by her side. She dreaded by the second when her brother was still deciding on his fate.
Suddenly, from his lips Imoen heard his choice, “I choose… a mortal life.”
“And that wish it shall be former Bhaalspawn,” Solar responded and took the dark essence from within him. The divine being bid farewell and rose into the heavens.
With those words heard it brought joy to her very soul. The young thief mage was so sure that her brother might accept such an offering; such a thing may greatly upset and disappoint her, however she would still wish him the best he chose that option.
Imoen noticed that when her brother made a wish, he was staring straight at her. She could see his weariness yet at the same time relief from the core of his eyes. He smiled a bright smile, bringing embarrassing warmth to her cheeks yet concerned of what it may mean. It was no matter though; maybe he was tired of divinity and being once a Bhaalspawn probably brang him to tire of anything to do with the Gods.
Locke, slowly approached Imoen with a slight stagger due to his injuries from fighting the Demogorgon. As he was near her, he wrapped his arms around her tightly and let loose a great sigh to show that finally all the troubles were over and that they were free to choose their own path. Imoen eagerly responded with a hug. It felt so good to let loose all the stress and weary that tore upon her body and mind.
As they looked at each others faces, they both saw each other smiles which gave them a new meaning to continue on. With renewed vigor, Locke russled Imoen’s hair and her giving a playful punch at his shoulder. They looked to the exit where the path to their future lay.
“C’mon Imoen. The party’s waiting for us,” softly said Locke with great anticipation to rejoin the group.
“Well said big brother,” Imoen responded with uplift cheer in her voice.
After the party had left Tethyr, they set their way back the Sword Coast, correcting any evil that befell any innoncents and quested to right the wrongs. With time passed, every individual in the group thought it was the time to say their farewells to make their own path for their future. Minsc wanted to return to his home to the fields of Rasheman to tell his people of the victories he had earned. Aerie wanted to join with Minsc to see his homeland. Jaheira decided that it was time for her to leave Locke for he proved to be a grown, responsible man worthy of what Gorion had expected of his adopted son. Viconia heard about the lands of the North known as the Icewind Dale and sought to find herself a home there. Keldorn wish to return to his own wife and settle down.
Locke and Imoen said their tearful goodbyes with embraces (except for Viconia for she only embraced Locke). Minsc had declared that he was not going to tears for it was shameful for a man to do so. But he gave in and almost choked Locke out of breath with his hug with the strength of a bear. Keldorn gave his wishes to both former Bhaalspawns for good fortune and admired Locke that he was an honorable man and it was a pleasure serving him. The party then splited off to their own destinations whereas Locke and Imoen ventured towards Beregost.
The two stayed at the Feldepost’s Inn and sought work and room. Locke substituted his sword for the hoe and worked in the fields and stables to earn coin for their stay. Imoen spent her time reading some fiction literature, making the rooms for the Inn, and sang some childhood songs to entertain the audience and herself. When there was trouble with small-time banditry or the like, Locke had no problem taking up the sword when the call was needed. However in their free times they played games, entertained each other with jokes and laughter at old happy memories and spent the afternoons cooking up different meals for the both of them while they chatted and ate. It appeared that they already had started a life here and away from the past.
However, suddenly this evening seemed to be quite different. Besides from their pleasant chat at the beginning of their supper, Locke’s vocie caught her attention.
“Imoen.” Her brother softly called. Imoen had looked up from her meal to her brother’s face in response to his voice. The first thing that caught her attention was Locke’s eyes. They were of calm blue as the still lake, yet cold from the dark past. She then looked at the face of her significant sibling. Although slightly marred by the scars of battles, the handsome characteristics of his face brought her to recall her past childhood memories. When she first met him, he was a silent, brooding boy with a habit of getting into fights with other peers. He was a social outcast; although he listened and made attempts to follow the teachings of their father Gorion, his disliked anybody who dared to come near him, be it monks, bullies, or other children of his age. Determined to get him out of his depressing state, little Imoen “borrowed” his make-shift staff that he so-called claimed it as his chosen sword. This resulted in a chase, while laughing in delight at the thrill of being chased.
“Hey frownie, you can’t catch me!”
“Give me back my weapon! Just you wait! I’ll get- oof!”
The outcast boy slipped over a bump and fell flat on his face. As he raised his head up, he could see chuckling Imoen holding her hand to help him up and her other hand holding his “weapon” in one piece. The whole situation about a wooden stick seemed so ridiculous that he started to laugh, along with the pleasant chuckles of the girl adding to his laughter.
After the two calmed down, they both introduced each other.
“Name’s Imoen, pick-pocket extroadinare! Nice ta meetcha! What’s yours?” Imoen introduced herself with a degree of playfulness and confidence,
“Name’s Locke. Nice to meet you,” answered the boy in a now calm tone.
After their first meeting, the two were inseparable in their friendship. Imoen would teach and play games and cards with Locke. When the time was good such as playing pranks on unsuspecting neighbors, she taught him the art of “not getting caught.” In return for her mentorship, he would teach her some swordplay he had learned from the Candlekeep garrison and street-fighting. Both caused a good deal of troublemaking throughout the fortress of knowledge, resulting in rumors of purses disappearing from Puffgut’s inn as well as some hilarious pranks against bullies that sought to cause the two some misery.
Locke and Imoen grew older to adolescence and their playfulness still continued. Dwelling back, Imoen remembered that once had a a slight attraction for her brother. That was before she knew he was her brother. Although their friendship bonded closer than ever, she couldn’t deny his handsome looks. His short, rugged hair gave him a boyish look that could not help stave off her slight attraction. She became slightly jealous when Locke unwittingly received a few peeks from the young, female mage students studying in Candlekeep. Despite her feelings, she never told him about that and probably was glad she hadn’t said anything about that to him. It would probably be… well, strange. However, Locke didn’t take notice of the changes of his character but he grew very much into his “big brother” job. When Imoen grew into a pretty girl of sixteen, some of the stable boys made attempts to get fresh with her. Only black eyes and bruises managed to prevent them from going further with Imoen, which sort of disgusted and scared her. He did his job so well that she playfully teased him by calling him “Little Brother.”
Imoen reminisced about the good old times, before this whole Bhaalspawn business. Sadly, her daydreaming came to a close as she heard Locke calling out her name.
“Hmm... um… yes… what is it lil’ brother?”
Locke seemed to have a troubling look over his face. His eyes that used to be of calm blue became full of worry.
“I…. need to talk to you about something,” answer Locke. Apparently, his voice and posture gave him on how nervous he was.
“Yeah Locke? Chip in! Shoot! Sis’s getting impatient!”
Locke smiled for a bit on behalf of his sister’s cheerful support, but the result may change that.
This is it. I’ve put it off for far too many times. I have to do this now.
“There’s something you should know, the truth about myself. The truth about my thoughtsm no… my feelings about us. I-I have no thoughts upon where this may go or how you act after I have said what I’m going to say. All I plead you to be patient with me about my confession.”
“Yeah lil’ brother. Don’t worry. I’m all ears,” calmly assured Imoen as she brought her hand on his shoulder, attempting to give him some reassurance.
“I…I thank you sis… no, Imoen. I… What I’m about to …say… um…”
“Go on!” Imoen said loudly, getting a bit impatient with his indecision.
“Sorry. The truth about what I am about to say is that I… love you.”
Imoen, still unsure of where this conversation was leading answered anyway to comfort Locke. “Don’t worry brother. I love you too.”
“I…no, it’s different Imoen. I… I think I’m IN love with you.”
Suddenly, the coming realization hit on Imoen’s head. She was shocked at the thought that Locke… no… her brother was in love with her?
“I… You’re kidding Locke. Come on, stop teasin’ your sister.”
“No, Imoen. I… I’ve been in love with you for many years, maybe from the first time that we’ve met. When there was no one else save Gorion that ever wanted to befriend me, you gave me hope. From the darkness that fogged my clarity, it was you whom gave me light to survive. I would risk my life and soul to rescue you from any pain as I had done so, and I would still do so again. Just being with you gives me pleasure than any Calimshan treasure. Imoen, I love you.”
“I,” choked Imoen as she was still confused about how she would respond to her brother’s confession.
“There is no woman that I would give my soul to than you Imoen. I want to spend my entire lifetime to care for you, to always be by your side. That’s the truth, Imoen,” finished Locke with a nervous anticipation on how Imoen would say.
I had done my part. I wish… no, wishing is for fools. The truth is now.
In the midst of confusion and shock, the girl lashed back.
“I… can’t BELIEVE! No, I can’t BELIEVE!”
“I.. understand Imoen-”
“Understand, no you don’t understand! Gods, I have a brother who thinks he’s in love with me! For Gorion’s sake, what were you thinking ‘Big Brother’? We’re brother and sister! It’s… it’s disgusting! What would you father think about this?”
Suddenly, Imoen covered her mouth in guilt and pondered at the words she’ve said to him. It was unbelievable! However, her tirade had obviously brought hurt upon her brother. He blatantly held a posture of defeat although he was struggling to hide his shame. He gave a sad grin to try to lighten things up, however what was done and said was finished and he already knew the outcome.
“As I said, I understand Imoen. I know I have wronged you greatly. I’m going to the stables if my presence is bothering you. Good night…Imoen.”
She heard him choke back his tears as he left the room, leaving her in thought about his confession.
As hours passed and the night reigned the skies, Imoen, no matter what she heard, was now concerned about the health of her brother. She didn’t want him to spend the night in the stables. She decided to go and convince him to come inside their room to sleep. Although the confession and the thought of being near him made her a bit nervous but his health was more important to her.
“Bro-Locke, its nightfall already. Please come inside. There’s a warm fire lit. Come on, the stables are too cold.”
A long pause occurred and finally Locke gave his answer.
“No, thank you Imoen. I prefer the hay.”
“But Locke, you’ll catch your death-”
“No thank you Imoen. I’ll be fine.”
With that said, Imoen went back to her room and had a sleepless night, still worrying if her brother slept well and his confession. However, by the next morning, everything had changed from the usual routine of lifestyle they had known during their time in Beregost. Most of days, she could see her brother becoming too involved in his work. He would distance himself at mealtimes. When she tried to chat, she feel Locke’s uneasiness and that resulted in quiet suppers. Thinking that Beregost wasn’t best fro them, She convinced her brother (almost too easily) to set out to the road again. However, it got worse. There was still that uneasy feeling anytime she was near Locke. He still kept his distance from her during travel. He only took the lead if there were any threats. During camping nights, there was no more of the cheerfulness and celebration between the siblings. There was distance, fear, and loneliness. Imoen felt so lonely when Locke would sleep at a distance away from her. She was used to sleeping near him but since the confession she couldn’t do that. Even at fires, he was quiet for most of the time. She was torn apart between two situations: the urging desire to be at her brother’s side comforting him while on the other hand, was the slight disgust and alienating feeling about her brother’s thoughts towards her.
Believing that her presence was doing nothing but causing him pain, she confessed to Locke that she wanted to go back to Candlekeep to continue her studies in sorcery. She hoped that with some time alone to himself he would overlook this matter personally, deem it to be ridiculous, and find some worthy woman to pursue his romantic interests at. To her surprise, Locke offered no resistance to her wishes and told her good luck with her studies. They left with no tears to cry; no burst of emotion displayed. During her time in Candlekeep, she spent a good three years of studying and developing her powers in sorcery to much of her delight, she could not help but think about Locke everyday, wondering if he was okay and found someone to find comfort in.
Then again, she still wished she was still there with him.
~~~
Present…
~~~
“Imoen!”
Imoen woke up from her dreaming and was face to face to her mentor, Dethryn, a sorceror in Condlekeep whom was a volunteer in managing the archives of the Candlekeep library for many long years. It was him who sought potential in the young mage and tutored her the school of sorcery.
“Sorry Father Dethryn, I was daydreaming. Won’t happen again,” sheepishly assured Imoen.
“Good! Now that you have awakened from your slumber, proceed on to next chapter.”
“Yessir! NO problem sir! I’m on it!”
“Good that we have something in to agree in. Carry on.”
As Imoen turned the page to the next chapter and read out loud.
“Sorcery is not knowing the flow of magic, rather ‘feeling’ the flow of magic. Any mage can know the incantations and rituals to support the production of magic, yet it is the sorceror that can wield magic thoughtout his mind ,body, and soul. Take great care of your soul, for to be fully accomodated within the energies of your body, you can achieve the natural instincts of conjuring magic.”
“That’s good,” Dethryn applauded, pleased at her recitation. “Carry on to the end of the chapter and I shall give you a description of the definitions.”
“Yes Father,” Imoen said with great gusto, feeling great on her progress in sorcery. In good happiness she was, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Locke.”
“Locke…. I hope you’re okay…”