A/N: I suck at deadlines.

Well, crap on a stick.

My head was spinning. Apparently, I had agents acting on my behalf. In addition to this, I was threatened by some unseen force, Jaheira was in a tiff, and the singer from the tavern was hitting on me.

"Listen, lady..."

"Moira."

"Moira, then. I've had a rough day, I have a rough day coming up tomorrow. You got until I finish my beer to state your business."

"Oh, aye, colder'n aice, you. Wot's on yer maind?"

"The usual."

Half my beer was gone. I was tempted to just throw it all back. Every moment away from Jaheira, the calmer she would get, though...in theory.

"Demons? Dragons?"

"Neither. I have a sermon to give tomorrow. I have no idea what's going on, the wife's pissed, I'm pissed, and I feel like an idiot everywhere I go in this Gods-damned city because I have a posse of protectors acting without my knowledge or consent."

"Oh, aye hero. S'ah tierrible thing, thaht."

"Is there anything in particular you want, Moira?"

A quarter beer to go, and the singer was just staring at me. She smiled.

"Nay, nay...ah'll see yu at yer sermon tomrru, aye?"

"Alright."

I shrugged, finished my beer, and headed upstairs. Jaheira wasn't mad. She did look like she had a mean headache, though. She had changed into her clothes, and sat on the side of the bed with her head in one hand.

"You alright, love?" I asked quietly as I slipped in the room.

"Yes, yes," she grumbled, "just a headache. The sooner this ends, the sooner we leave this place, the better."

I pulled off my shirt, crawled into bed. I wrapped my arms around Jaheira, and she kissed my hand with a sigh. She knew I was going to be going through hell the next day, somehow. She couldn't stop me from doing it. But she'd be right there with me...like I said, she was always my bar of iron in an ever-changing world of water. The world had changed since the Battle of the Throne- hell, since I toppled Sarevok. I slept alright. It was one hell of a day, that sermon.

BG BG BG BG BG BG BG BG BG BG BG BG BG BG BG BG BG BG BG BG BG BG BG BG

There was a small stack of scrolls waiting for me in the morning. We woke just after dawn, before Lathander's glory crept over the walls. I said my prayers, sat down to breakfast with my pile of messages. Belt assured me of everything, told me to show up in the courtyard of the Flaming Fist citadel. Or at least his letter did. Corporal Hobart was waiting for us, having his own breakfast when we came down. He had four troopers with him, and the Sergeant Major was gone. The corporal saluted.

"Sir, once you're done breakfast, Belt wants you at the citadel."

"I read as much, Hobart. What's the itinerary like?"

"Couldn't say, sir."

"Great," mumbled Jaheira around a mouthful of bread and cheese, "just what I wanted to hear."

Her armor gleamed, and her eyes glinted dangerously. She didn't like the corporal, I could see it. So we ate, talking about the details of the sermon, about what I wanted to say. Apple juice, eggs, bread, cheese. A little leftover roast would've made the meal, but it was good enough. When we were done, I looked over Jaheira, and she looked over me. Our armor gleamed. Our weapons shone. We looked and felt like a million gold. Hell, I looked like Lathander's personal avatar. Engravings of suns on my armor all but glowed as I shouldered my shield.

"Ready, sir?"

"Alright, corporal, lead on."

We got to the citadel in good time. No crowds at that hour, I guess. The Flaming Fist were at every intersection, at every corner, looking vigilant. The security was, in a word, intense. I could see shadows flitting as we walked. I thought about bringing it up before Linvail himself emerged from one pocket of early-morning shadow and nodded at me. I nodded back politely as he fell in.

"Aran."

"Hero! Good to see you in such fine health. M'lady, likewise."

"Go die in a fire, thief," Jaheira growled, "I have much on my mind today, and caving in your skull would do wonders to relieve some stress."

I shrugged apologetically. I didn't like the guy, but he had backed me up a bunch of times. He had helped deal with slavers, fought at the Throne, and helped against Bodhi. I couldn't be rude to him, right?

"Sorry, Aran. Lots of stress."

"Ah yes, it's fine. How are we this glorious morning?"

"Had better days. No one's telling us a damn thing about this sermon."

For half a second, I swear I saw surprise on his face. It was concealed pretty quick, though.

"No need to worry. This is the fifth anniversary being marked by the city. My men are in the crowds, keeping everything under control in full collaboration with the Flaming Fist."

That tripped all kinds of alarm bells. What the hell was going on?

"Aran, what the hell? When the hell did the Shadow Thieves start helping the law?"

"When our interests coincide," he said with a sly smile, "and your safety is the apex of just that."

"Give it to me straight- is someone going to try to kill me?"

"There have been rumblings. Some persons have been...encouraged to stay at home. But yes, there has been some rumors that your enemies are looking to this occasion to kill you."

"Anything more specific?"

"Couldn't say, old friend. I have to get to the square, enjoy your parade."

And just like that, he was gone. Parade? What in the hell was going on?

"Corporal, what's this about a parade?"

"Can't say sir, but I'd expect it's likely the same one as last year."

I was just all screwed up. Jaheira growled, trying to piece everything together.

"Lathander, Corporal. An annual parade..."

And then it hit me. That day was the anniversary of the Battle of the Throne. A lot of people who showed up came from Baldur's Gate, Beregost, and Candlekeep. A lot of people lived in those three cities after the fight, especially the Gate and Candlekeep. It only made sense they'd have a little shindig to remember. I guess it had just slipped by me, what with being run out of town. We turned the corner to see the citadel decked in my colours, my banner flying right beside the Fist's. Great. Blue and white streamers off of every single lamp-post.

We walked into the courtyard in front of the citadel without great fanfare. Everyone was ready before we got there- they were all formed up in platoons, the huge bearskin-clad warriors of Rashamen, the elves of Suldanessellar under their green and grey banner, the local rangers, the clergy from a dozen different temples, the knights...

The Flaming Fist officer at the front called out commands.

"Company, atten...HUT!"

I heard boots slam and scrape on cobbled stone. The officer drew his sword, saluted me. I just sort of stood there awkwardly, gave a half-assed salute of my own.

"Thanks for coming out this year, sir. Means a lot to the troops."

I nodded, looking past him for familiar faces. They weren't hard to find as people began breaking rank to come over and see me.

"Ah, hahaha, young pup!"

"Keldorn!"

He reached out, and we clasped arms. Anomen wasn't far behind, and Coran was hugging Jaheira before I knew it.

"Old man, it's been awhile! Everyone, how've things been?"

Apparently, it was a huge reunion. Kivan was there, Alora, Minsc even came. My best friends, with a few absences- Viconia and Sarevok were gone for obvious reasons, Aerie was gone too. In about three seconds I was surrounded by familiar faces, exchanging handshakes and hugs (but only manly, masculine, stiff hugs).