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Journal the Seventeenth - Suspicions



Seaver came to me some days ago. "Came to me" is perhaps the incorrect turn of phrase; it would be more accurate to say that he took it upon himself to sneak into the Pemberth house whilst I was present and, for once, alone.

Displeased by the intrusion though I may have been, I thought better of making an issue of his impropriety. He is, after all, of questionable sanity and morals. Whilst this would not normally give me pause, my advanced state of pregnancy has caused me to be somewhat less... reckless with my own safety; better to bear the unwelcome presence than risk any possible outburst, especially given that his opening statement involved a proposed reassurance that if he had been there to kill me, I would have already been dead. I wonder if the people who utter such words realise that it has the opposite effect to the one presumably meant?

Regardless, I offered him tea and listened to his reasons for being there. He had, he said, come to apologise for his recent behaviour. His obsessions had become overwhelming to the point that he could see nothing beyond his insane goals - where have I heard such a thing before? I hope life continues to treat you well, Drevorin. He saw not how his actions might affect me, our friendship or even his own life. He saw only his selfish desire to end the life of a man who had once been tenuously connected to his monster of a sire. For whatever reason, however, he claims to have come to his senses. He confimed all that Erinwyn had told me of Aakusti's involvement and even spoke on the mans behalf, saying that I should not judge him harshly for his gross betrayal of trust. He also confirmed some other suspicions that I had concerning the poisoning of my beloved.

He does not expect forgiveness. He does not ask for it. He claims to wish for a cessation to the hostilities, however, and to lay this matter to rest. Whilst I would certainly wish for that, I know not if I can place any faith in these words. To forgive is an easy matter. To let the matter go is likewise simple. But to believe in him? In his words? To trust him again? These things may yet be beyond my ability. Seaver was once the most trusted of my few friends, but this simply means that the damage goes deeper.

I am more inclined to believe the letter sent to me by Julian stating that he too wishes an end to conflict and that he has returned to Gondor with this goal in mind. It is strange to think that I would put more stock in the script of a man I had met only a few times before than I would in the speech of a man I have been good friends with for so long. The return of the deed to the manor house is an interesting addition to the tale, but I cannot help but wonder if Seaver wishes to distract me with this random act of generosity. He has always been of a devious mind. I can only watch and wait now.