The Old man’s convoy was passing Bree, but as many knew one could rarely just pass Bree. The Town had it’s own, often cruel, will. Priya had tried her best to avoid the place and she had argued against staying in the Town, but Elroy had managed to get his way through. He wanted to stay in the Pony and she, as a new comer, had no right to change their travel plans. ”It is not my problem if you are afraid of seeing your old boyfriend.”, he had said coldly, and she had said no more.
As the horse halted in front of the West Gate, she hopped down from the bench and started to walk toward a nearby cluster of trees, beckoning for her hounds to follow. Even if the others would enter the Town, she wouldn’t. She’d stay beyond the walls and meet them at the South Gate in the next dawn. Or so she had planned, but she would not be there on that faithful morning, such would be the will of Bree.
As it so happened, Thomas, her oldest friend, had been standing upon the bridge near the West Gate when they arrived. He was deep in thought, troubled. Priya’s cruel absence had filled his heart with passive hatred. He had loved the girl and she had always turned him down. And after her dark-skinned lover, had attacked him, what had she done? She had abandoned him. Of course she had sent him a letter, filled with tear-stained apologies, but her words had little meaning to him as it was not her words that defined her, but her actions. And she had always acted against his deepest wishes. She had abandoned him. Twice. So he had burnt the letter.
Of course she had abandoned him. It was how she always handled the overwhelming emotions. She ran away, fast. And guilt was the most horrific of all emotions. She had seen how lost and broken Thomas had been and she had attempted her very best to tenderly help him. She knew how much damage Seia had done, when he had attacked him, humiliating the weak boy. The sight of him beaten, had broke her heart. The wounds she had tried to tend, were torn open, all her efforts to help him, torn apart by the savage man who held her heart. She had hated Seia for hurting him so. She had hated herself for being part of the argument that had started the assault. And she had even hated Thomas for making her hate her beloved Seia. There was no way of making sense of that, so the best solution was to just walk away and leave it all behind.
Of course later on she had learnt to hate herself for leaving everyone behind, and her hatred toward herself had only doubled. In the end her refuge had solved nothing. She had grown bitter and regretful. She had turned into a small and thin creature with dark circles under her eyes. The fire she had once carried beneath her shy core had almost burnt out. All in all, she appeared like there was only half left of her, and on some days, she felt entirely hollow as if all the joy was stripped out of her world.
So as Thomas saw her small figure walking toward the trees and eventually sitting midst them, he was unsure if it could actually be her. Thus he called for her. She was startled by the voice and as her green eyes landed on the distant figure of Thomas, she stared at him for a brief moment, frozen in time, before quickly attempting to crawl under the tangled web of large roots of an old oak. To hide herself. Yet her desperate escape was not as successful as the previous ones and she got stuck in the wooden tentacles mid-escape. Her flailing legs were all that remained visible of her.
His body and blood ran cold as he dashed the gap between him and her. He grasped her kicking limbs and pulled her out of her hiding hole, which had so suddenly turned into a prison. She laid there on her stomach on the ground, unmoving, holding her breath. Thomas called her, almost demandingly, ”Priya?” She did not reply, no. She took her hands to hide her eyes, pressing her covered face against the soil. Her ink black locks falling to cover the sides of her face as a second curtain. She had only one thought in her mind, a wish, that the Earth would quickly just swallow her.
Thomas waited. He knew it was her, yet he needed to see her face. The rage was building inside him as the chaotic thoughts of her return swirled inside his mind. She had come back, she could heal his heart, but she seemed to be unwilling to even look at him. He whispered, then murmured and eventually shouted a command, "Look at me!".
She hesitantly climbed on her feet sniffing, her back still turned against the young man. Thomas curled his fingers into shaking fists while he anxiously awaited to see her face. He stared at her and the thoughts of striking her, hurting her and even killing her filled his mind. But he did not act on those dark desires. No.
She turned slowly to face her friend, forcing herself to look at him, even thought it obviously pained her greatly. The tears welled in her eyes and her expression was anxious and apologetic. She muttered out a helpless whisper. ”I’m..s..sorry.”. She felt as if she was looking at her own guilt straight into it's eyes and she managed to draw only short frantic breaths, her painful frown only deepening, "I'm... so ashamed."
He wanted to forgive her.
He forgave her.
