Fuck 'em. Fuck 'em all.
Seems I've spent too often, in recent months, shedding tears and willingly letting my mind shatter, for what was never anything else other than a dead end. Oh, how could I be so foolish. I was better than this. I am better than this. So why am I crying right now? Where is there still tears lining my bruised cheeks.
I'm not used to failure. Especially when it comes to women. No, I get what I want in that regard, one way or another. I always have. The original rogue from Gondor, before these pretenders began popping up around the town. Who the fuck do they think they are? Am I really getting so old that I'm becoming past my prime? Because that's just what's happened, isn't it? A woman has chosen a better man.
No.
No. She hasn't. He isn't better than me. No one out-strikes the Viper of Gondor, absolutely fucking no one, especially not some lowborn whoreson freak. He gave me a battering, sure, but I had him. Oh, I was gonna gut that bastard... And then she threw him his blade. She tossed him it, without so much as even looking at me. Unarmed, and in shock. She chose to give him an upper-hand. Still, even with a dagger, he was no match for me, truly. I would've blinded that fucker, squeezed my thumbs through his eyes and taken his sight, but, of course, she was there. I hesitated in my brutality; I hesitated at the intrusion of a dirk in my side, and now, here I am. Lying in bed, with stitches across my waist, paler than a drunk whore of Gondor in the moonlight.
Who the fuck does he think he is? With his cute little names, and empty threats. And that's the man I'm supposed to fear? A man whose best insult he can conjure in his meager mind is 'Orc-spawn'? To think someone may believe that could insult me. To think that someone may believe I've not been called worse. So quick to forget that it was his lover that ran to me, and gave into her desires, the first night we lay together... Though he wouldn't know that, would he?
I knew. I knew from the look in her eyes each time I boasted of her true affections, that she had been lying to him. Either that, or she had been lying to me. And I don't know which outcome pains me more. The idea she can't own up to her true affections, or the idea that there was no such true affections to begin with. I don't know how much more of this I can stomach. The woman can happily throw herself against me, and proclaim that I am the man she loves more than anything in the world, yet... There she was. Throwing him a dagger at his behest. Making sure it was his anger she softened. Leaving with him...
That smirk.
I'm going to carve a permanent smirk into that man's face, mark my words. We'll see how happy he is, when I-...
Oh, what's the point? I'm supposed to be a committed man. I'm supposed to have Ash's interests as my own, but... I just can't stop loving her. I can't fucking switch it off. I can't claw my brain out with my fingernails to finally put an end to my racing thoughts. I can't stab myself in the heart to stop the pain for good, because that copper-haired woman does it enough, on her own accord, that it's impossible to feel nothing now. Why did I fall in love with a woman I could never achieve?
I should heed Sareva's request. Stay well away from them. The woman saved my life, least I can do is offer her that much in retort, even though she may well be one of the usual empowered whores that walk these streets thinking they own the place. The bane of my whole persona. But I'm being too harsh on her, in particular. It's not her I'm angry at, now I think about it. She went against her own wishes of simply allowing me to die, and not only saved my life, but rode me home. Honour among thieves, I guess. She's a peculiar woman. Perhaps she hates every fiber of my being and brands me a liar and a cheat, and I certainly don't think much of her in retort, but I respect her. There is no facade about her, to my knowledge. Her only flaw: what I assume to be her large, lumbering Rohirrim friend with the special facial hair, and the bloody nose. But then, nobody's perfect.
But if I hear one more over-used, humourless joke about the characteristics of men, and the fascination with large genitalia, from any woman at all, I'm buying a crossbow and finding myself a new feminine carcass head to mount on my mantle. Wonder if they'll appreciate that trope...
I think I need away from this place.
Perhaps this journey Silver wishes to take will be therapeutic for my soul. At the very least, even if I am unable to make such a journey, and she departs without me, as I expect, I must venture off... Find a job up north. Forochel would likely be my destination. Hunt myself down a fabled wolf-man, and find myself anew in the harsh wastes of the North. Perhaps even see those beautiful lights in the sky I've seen so oft in paintings. Now, that. That sounds comforting. A place where I don't have to worry about the harsh reality of love, because Eru knows I'm not going to find that in the company of Silver. The less thought about her the better.
What is Narys doing? What is she planning? She spends all that time running my name through the mud for finding solace elsewhere after she walked away from me, as if I was her's. And when push comes to shove, she no longer gives a shit. She could've warned me about him. She could've told me he was coming. No, mayhap there was a greater angle to it all... Mayhap-...
...-I'm thinking too much. This pain-relief stuff is fucking with me, I can tell. Damn that sour-faced bear Gilsel. You try and crack a joke, and the woman kicks the stuffing out of you. For a woman of medicine, she cares very little for someone's well-being, hah! At least she's straight-forwards. Only damn woman I've met in the past few years who's just straight-forwards, and not a, well... A woman, I guess? How a worm like Ghali managed to wed her, I'll never know, though I get the feeling he's whipped like a bitch in heat in their bedroom.
Is that where I'm going wrong? Women? Perhaps things would've been a lot easier had the Almighty decreed me to be a man of the queer eccentric sort. That 'Doctor' Raemond, and his husband. I don't even know why I feign disgust in the eyes of my peers. I remember the nights I spent in shady, dim-lit brothels, consuming too much exotic alcohol, and waking up next to men more devilishly handsome than I. Perhaps why they're so carefree when it comes to issues of politics, and people, the real important factors that make this world tick. They must live a much happier life knowing they don't need to stand the wailing of women.
What am I even talking about anymore?
What was I talking about?
Of course. The arrow in my heel. Ironically, the one thing I thought gave me happiness, that keeps me from being happy time and time again. How I wish I just knew what she wanted from me. That's all I want. A quick ending to this suffering. For her to turn around and tell me she never loved me, never will, and then I can turn and move on with my life. But no, her face haunts me as it does most nights. I will fall asleep, picture that enigma in my mind laughing at me. Taunting me. Running away with Taraborn. Emotional cruelty, until suddenly I bite myself awake... And then, there is Ash. Laying peacefully on top of me, as she always does. Sound asleep. Her lithe frame spread out so gracefully, preferring me to the comfort of the duvet. Her body pulsing with the steady, quiet breaths of life. The occasional wriggle as she finds a new spot to lie on top of, and a new limb of mine to cut my circulation of blood from. How I wish I was strong enough to open up to her, about everything. But I can't, no. Not until I figure out what it is I want.
For if Narys were to show up at my door late one evening, and beg me to run away with her, would I? Honestly, I don't even know the answer to that question myself. It's easier to believe she hates me, but it would be a lie if I didn't sometimes ponder a future where we could've been happy.
No, no.
Not down that path again.
She's made her choice. She chose the cunt whose throat I'll, one day, slice open, and that's that...
I understand, but still, I burn.
...
Where's my Raven gotten to?
