This was an idea that's been rolling around in my head for some time now. It takes place after the OC for NWN, and is between the hero of Neverwinter and Aarin Gend regarding Aribeth. It is not a happy story. As always, I would love reviews.

"And just what would you have me do, Aarin? Sit back and watch this happen again?"

Aarin Gend's fathomless black eyes followed the woman as she paced the room, her jaw working in anger and agitation. Even now, roused to wrath as she was, she was still the most beautiful human he could imagine. Her flaming red hair was wild and loose to her waist, clinging to the curves of her small but shapely frame as she moved. Over the past few months of struggling to save Neverwinter from one threat after another, her normally fair skin had taken on a deep olive cast. Wearing nothing but a short tunic that barely covered her bottom, Aarin repressed a small smile as she pierced him with her keen blue eyes, her face demanding an answer, but the spymaster smothered his thoughts, knowing she was in no mood to be admired.

With a heavy sigh, he patted her side of the bed as he implored, "Please, my love, come and sit down. We will talk about it, and in the morning perhaps you will have a better perspective on the matter." Not that he blamed her for being upset. Why did that messenger have to come tonight?

Her mouth fell open in horrified disbelief and she blinked repeatedly at him before she managed to say, "'A better perspective'? Are you out of your mind? That messenger just informed us that Nasher is going to execute Lady Aribeth tomorrow! How can you possibly be so calm about this?" The answer came to her as the words fell from her lips, and she took a shocked step back, her eyes going cold as she hissed, "You already knew."

"No," Aarin denied gently, rising from the bed to approach his distraught lover. "I did not know. But I did suspect. What else would you expect Lord Nasher to do, Vala? Are you really all that surprised?"

Grudgingly, Vala allowed Aarin to approach, leaning against the strong muscles of his bare chest as his arms enveloped her tenderly. "No," she said in a bare whisper, fighting back the tears that stung her eyes. "I'm not surprised. But that doesn't make it right. She…she doesn't deserve that. She hasn't deserved any of it."

Aarin sighed into her hair, knowing that his next words would not be well received. "She is a traitor, my love. She made her own choices and now must bear the consequences."

As he expected, Vala jerked back from him as if burned, her face twisted in disgust as she demanded, "And was it her choice to have Fenthick executed? Was it her choice to watch her lover die right before her eyes at the order of her Lord?"

"Fenthick unwittingly aided a traitor to Neverwinter," Aarin explained with calm patience, keeping his arms around her back. "He very nearly cost this city many more lives, including the life of Lord Nasher himself, by making it possible for the cure to be stolen."

Vala pulled away from him, backing up and crossing her arms over her chest as she shook her head at him. "Can you even hear yourself? He unwittingly aided a traitor, and very nearly cost lives – but those things did not happen, Aarin! Even your precious Lord Nasher survived none the worse for wear, and still he was too much of a coward to do the right thing and forgive Fenthick for his mistakes!"

Frowning at her tone, Aarin warned, "Watch how you speak of my Lord, Vala. He has only ever had Neverwinter's best interests in mind."

"Oh is that so?" she snarled back, her anger fully revived. "Then perhaps you can explain to me the purpose of Fenthick's execution? How do you justify it? Because the way I see it, Desther was the betrayer, the traitor worthy of death, and Neverwinter got the blood it craved when he was executed for his crimes. Lord Nasher knew as much as Fenthick did, yet he is not held in the least responsible, despite the fact that the Lord of the land should blame himself first when things go wrong!"

Aarin's eyes narrowed in confusion as he asked quietly, "What do you mean, he knew as much as Fenthick? I do not understand."

Her eyebrows rising slightly in genuine surprise, Vala muttered to herself, "Is it really possible you do not know?" After a moment of silent regard, she answered him directly, "Fenthick told me just prior to the ritual ceremony that he'd helped Desther join in the ritual by providing him with his key. I went to Nasher myself right then and told him what Fenthick had said because I never trusted that bastard Desther, and do you know what your Lord told me, my love? Nasher told me to mind my own business, and keep out of affairs that do not concern me. I handed him the truth, and he ignored it, and when the whole thing when straight to the hells, he blamed Fenthick."

It was now Aarin's turn to pace as he tried to wrap his mind around this new and disturbing information. Vala watched him silently, knowing he would need a few moments to assess what she'd said, and she couldn't help but let her eyes roam over his body as he traveled the length of the room, wearing only his breaches. He'd always reminded her of a dark panther, stalking its prey from the shadows, his long, lean muscles moving with an uncanny grace and undeniable strength. She loved his eyes, especially when he smiled, his white teeth flashing in contrast to his deep brown skin as the laugh lines appeared around those bottomless depths. Everything in her that was woman, that longed to be loved and held unconditionally, that desired the feel of his soft skin and the heat of his kiss, wished fervently that she could simply agree with him. Yet, inside her heart, she knew she was right. Aribeth did not deserve this, and if she did, so did Lord Nasher. How can he not see the truth?

Finally Aarin stopped in front of her, his mouth set in an all-too-familiar stubborn line as he prepared to say exactly what she already knew he would. "This changes nothing. While Lord Nasher may have had the same information, he did not betray Neverwinter as Aribeth did. She is a traitor and she deserves death."

Vala offered him a bitter smile before she turned aside and began to pull on her black leather armor. "You see, Aarin, that's where you and I are different. Lady Aribeth betrayed Neverwinter, that's true, but Nasher betrayed it first – by executing an innocent man to cover up his own shame."

Aarin frowned regretfully, but did not respond. After watching her dress for a moment, he asked softly as she reached for her daggers, "Where are you going?"

"To see Aribeth," she answered shortly without meeting his eyes.

"Armed and wearing leathers?" he pushed with a scowl. "The prison is just down the hall."

"Yes, well," she started coldly, meeting his gaze as anger and frustration boiled just under the surface, "I can't be too sure who's waiting to stab me in the back these days." She felt a pang of regret as the pain her statement caused streaked across Aarin's face, but she brushed past him resolutely, saying, "I won't be back tonight."

-

High noon in Neverwinter was hot and smothering, even from Vala's hiding place in the deep shadows under a bridge. Sweat tickled her sides as it slid down her skin under her tight armor, but she remained perfectly still, invisible to everyone, as she observed the growing crowd ahead of her. Vultures, she thought in hateful disgust. They are all like carrion crows circling a dying animal. Her eyes trailed over the platform, settling with great sadness on the elven woman standing proud and silent, waiting for the inevitable. So passive was her expression that it almost seemed she would prefer hanging to living, but Vala ignored this and was still determined to carry out with her plan.

Though she had spoken the truth when she told Aarin she was going to see Aribeth, in reality, Aribeth had not seen her. Vala had crept into the prison unseen, and searched for a means to free the elf and help her escape that night, but Nasher had tripled the guard, almost as if he'd anticipated such a move, and escape had proved impossible. So Vala had come here, to the site of the execution, and carefully planned a way to save Aribeth from the fate she did not deserve.

Seeing the time approaching to make her move, Vala silently slid one of her daggers from her wrist guard and prepared to creep forward, when suddenly she felt an arm snake around her waist, pulling her back against a firm chest. Instinctively she thrust downward with the dagger toward her assailant's leg, but her hand was caught mid-motion and twisted painfully to the side until she dropped the weapon. Furious as she realized the identity of her captor, the only person who had ever been able to catch her while she hid in the shadows, Vala snarled, "Let me go, Aarin."

"I am sorry," the spymaster whispered into her ear, sending unwanted chills down her spine. "You know I cannot allow you to do this."

"I have to do this!" she hissed back, twisting in vain against his vice-like grip on her body. "You have to let me try. Please, let me go." Her voice broke into an agonized half-sob at the end, and she hoped her emotions would erode the man's will as they had in the past.

Aarin was nearly smothered in guilt, and for a brief moment, he thought he would let her try, even help her to pull off this foolish escape attempt, but tightening his resolve, he answered, "I cannot. Even if it were not for the law and Lord Nasher, I still would not allow you to go through with this because if you fail…my love, I could not see you standing up there like she is now." His voice faded off at the thought of another dead lover.

Seething with anger that was fueled by sadness, Vala spat, "Perhaps if it were me standing there, you would have the guts to do something!" She felt Aarin flinch at the words, and feeling helpless to stop Aribeth's execution, Vala went after him ruthlessly, attacking the only person she could. "And don't lie, Aarin. The only reason you stop me now is for your precious Lord Nasher. If you behave like a good boy, perhaps your Master will pat your head and give you a treat. After all, convincing you to betray your lovers seems to be your Master's specialty."

Even through the layers of leather that separated their bodies, Vala could feel the angry heat that radiated from Aarin's body as he leaned in closer to her ear and hissed, "You know why I serve Lord Nasher."

"You can't fool me like you fool yourself, Aarin," she snapped back. "You are not Lord Nasher's prisoner – you are his slave."

Vala was surprised as she felt Aarin, usually so calm and passive, shaking with barely contained rage. It was all she could do to swallow a cry of pain as he thrust his hand mercilessly into her hair and yanked her head back, forcing her gaze to fall upon Aribeth as the Executioner approached her with the noose. "Look at her," Aarin demanded angrily. "Look at her, Vala. Is that a woman who wants to live? Is that a woman who has anything to live for? You stand here attacking me because you cannot stop this, yet it is you who are behaving like a selfish child! You want Aribeth to live so you can have a sense of justice, but do you even know what Aribeth wants? All you have to do is look at her to see it!"

Vala began to tremble as she watched the noose slide around the graceful neck of the beautiful elf. Aribeth's face showed no emotion, but in her eyes was something strangely akin to relief as the final moments of her life ticked away. A calm serenity surrounded her, so that even the normally bloodthirsty crowd was silent and reverent before her. The scene went blurry as tears formed in Vala's eyes and she whispered breathlessly in response, "No. No, she doesn't. She wants to die."

Relaxing his grip around her waist as his anger faded, Aarin gently turned her toward him. "Perhaps she believes she will find peace when she dies. Perhaps she will find Fenthick."

Vala buried her face in Aarin's chest as he slipped his arms around her. "It's not fair," she whispered bitterly. "It's just not fair."

"No, my love, it is not."

Shuddering, Vala clung desperately to Aarin, her tears falling in an endless stream down her face as the sharp twang of a rope going taught shattered the noonday silence.