Found:
Irritation!
This is killing me!
Well, it's not literally ending my life. It is more of a figurative and metaphorical death of the senses and an erosion of will and patience.
In this room there are four walls, one ceiling, two rafters and one rug hiding the floorboards. There is one chair, one desk, one table, thirteen boxes, two book cupboards, two chests, four candles and a painting. I know this because I have counted them over and over and over again. The numbers never change, of course. This is an exercise in futility but at least it gives me something to do!
I spend much of my day working my muscles with the ropes in a bid to strengthen myself, to be ready when sensation fully returns, to prevent atrophy to my body. When I'm not doing that, I pore over my old maps and sketches, my notes, my recordings in an effort to keep my mind nimble as well. Even my daily visits from the healer and my silmaril are only briefly distracting.
It's not enough!
I need to get out of here!
I feel increasingly trapped, stuck, confined by injury and vulnerability. I've proven to myself that I'm still capable of mounting a horse and riding away regardless of how well my damned legs work, but I made a promise...
So what? He doesn't own me. I owe the man nothing. I should just pack up and go. I should do as I damn well please, as I always have! Why should I sit around in this blasted hovel, just to keep happy a man who has little to no regard for me beyond that of an owner for an unusual pet?
Only he does own a piece of me (damn it!), I do owe him my life (Damn it again!) and I did promise that I'd not run this time (damn it all some more!) I'm also reasonably certain that I am being unfairly harsh in my assessment of his thoughts concerning me.
Why did I do that? Why did I make that promise?
Yes, yes, I know it's ultimately for my own good that I let my body heal fully before I place any undue stress upon it, but what about the undue stress I place upon myself by staying here as I am?
It's maddening!
It's bad enough that I'm still in Bree weeks after I should have left. I hate being in one place for any great length of time. Being imprisoned in a small room however...
I'm not sure how much longer I can take this.
Perhaps if I ask nicely, he'll take me somewhere or agree to relax the terms of our agreement?
