There was something almost melancholy about the scene that lay before Dagramir’s sleepless eyes. Ashaia lay, as she always did, half of her body splayed out on top of him. Her leg draped over his, almost possessive in her sub-conscious. Her arm lay over his abdomen, and his arm lay over her own. Bare of clothes, naught but their bodies and souls left for each other to gaze upon. Just how he requested it to be earlier that evening. Their two hearts beating two very different rhythms, but, peculiar enough, beating as one. A scene so serene, so calming and peaceful, that in vain it caused the opposite effect. Despite how sensual, and personal, such a scene was, he could not silence the other thoughts firing around in his mind at that moment. Beyond the idyllic, lay doubts and troubles that were proving to be impossible to ignore. So, that was why, following the most airy of kisses to her hair as he could manage, ‘lest he wake her from what appeared to be a dream of warmth, and comfort, he gently nestled his way from her grasp. Out from the covers, and the bed that screamed his name. Screamed at him to return to the place he called home. But, that was just it. That was why he had to leave.
Arms flailed for a moment, and he stretched off his muscles, preparing for the journey ahead. Turning to face her, he backed himself to the chair that sat by their wall, and seated himself. Between keeping his sapphire-hued eyes on her, and slowly dressing himself, he submitted to the pulsating presence of his thoughts. The previous evening, he had finally admitted his dilemma to her. Love. What a fickle game indeed. An emotion that was soon declared to be shared between them. Something he dreaded to feel, after his previous experiences of the world. Such a beautiful, bare figure before him continued to give him pause, as he slipped his boots over his trousers. Eyes tracing intimate journeys over her leg, the arch of her back, until finally her face was in full bloom. And in that moment, there was a genuine reconsideration of his actions. How could he so easily depart from her, leave everything he dared to now consider home, for an indeterminable amount of time to the north? And then he remembered.
As much as he may have hated it, her face continued to plague his thoughts. Unforgettable, in her claim to his soul. Tendrils of another love dragging him back from his reality of home, to the deep recesses of his psyche, and the ideas he did his best to bury. Of course, there was perhaps more to the story, as there so often seemed to be when it came to the woman, but he could not be certain. And his uncertainty was tearing through the flimsy façade of normality he continued to attempt to divulge in. For how could he truly love Ashaia, when there was something burning at the back of his mind, threatening to whirl up a firestorm fit to drive him into madness. How could he give her everything she wanted, when his heart beat in a different rhythm? He was scared. Something he dared not tell anyone, for the sake of his persona. He was scared of the control these women had over him, a control more powerful than anyone knew. And it wasn’t fair on Ashaia, no. He could not give himself fully to her, until he knew for certain that he truly wanted to. Until any other thoughts purged themselves from his mind entirely, and he could devote himself, as he so desperately longed to do. For that is all he wished for, at that point in his life. He had spent years as a handsome rogue, flitting around the backrooms of inns, and young girls’ bedrooms at the behest of their fathers. His short time that he spent with a daughter of his own, and a wife, matured him in aspects he couldn’t understand as of yet. And it was Ava, and Ashaia, that gave him that opportunity for a chance at redemption. For he may have not been the best of fathers, but by Eru was he going to try. Which, in turn, was another reason he needed to leave it all behind for now. Each day he spent watching Ava giggle, and learn from him, was another step closer to treating her as his own. Another wistful thought to his own departed daughter, and the future she may have had had he stayed by her side-…
And at such a self-deprecating thought, he stood up quickly. Fastening his belt taut around his hip. Outside the window, which was slowly clearing from the steam that had accumulated earlier that evening, the sky began to colour a pleasant red. Yellow threatening to pierce up and over the horizon. It was time. He stared openly at her for a few moments more, before heaving a quiet sigh. A nod. Before he stepped over towards her, setting the oh so familiar roll of parchment next to her. Placing a quiet kiss upon her lips, meaningful in its short life. And, just like that, with a turn and a stride, he walked straight out the door.
Coming to a stop on the porch outside, securing the door behind him, he breathed in the humid summer air. A faint smile working its way across his lips. Such a beautiful foredawn for him to experience. Such a shame he had to experience it alone. And thus, the melancholic feelings returned. His smile soon enough was spattered with sad regret, and he made his way down the steps and off the grounds of his property. Oh, why had the Gods deemed it fit to torment him so? He had everything he could ever wish for in life, only a few metres behind him. And with each step forwards, each trudge over the cobbles, it became easier. Easier in his sense of purpose. He affirmed himself. This had to be the right decision. He had said all he needed to in that letter. Proclaimed all the thoughts and feelings bumbling about in his head that he deemed it fit for her to know. All that remained was to leave, complete his journey, and return back to the life he could assure himself he wanted… But even he knew it wasn’t going to be that simple. As even uncertainties with Silver occasionally infested his thoughts, the journey before him was going to be arduous. Climbing upon the horse he had kept tied down by the river the previous evening, he ‘hummed’ to himself. Despite the negatives tied to this contract that took him north, the unpleasant reminders that he would not be seeing either Ashaia, or Ava, or anyone else he held dear for an uncertain amount of time… At least this journey did contain some measure of positivity.
No more drama.
No more angry lovers interrupting his pleasant evenings with their screams of rage, and savage knives. No more arguments over the nature of his heart, and where it truly lay. No more teases from a particular Silver that continued to test his abilities of steadfast loyalty. No more frustratingly boring paperwork that he was contractually-obliged to fill out to appease the Captain. No more would he have to be constantly subjected to his own thoughts, and see the faces and bodies that caused him a multitude of emotion that he hated feeling. No more having to see the ‘cunt’ Taraborn’s smug, infantile face, or any other of the men that were at the whim of, well-... No more Narys, for he knew if he were to see her again, and if the time was right, he would fall back down a hole he dared not tread anywhere near.
As the winds of change blew, guiding him to the gates of Towerglan and beyond, he did his best to smile.
Two hearts caused him to leave, but at the end of it all… He would come back with one.
At least, that was the plan.
