Found:
Buttocks and failure.
Well, that was unexpected in every sense. After Dagramir's angry departure of a few days ago, I had thought he'd not return. I had thought him done with me. It had seemed that his jealousies - misplaced, unnecessary and ill-founded as they were - had nevertheless driven him away for good and I was not entirely certain that it was a bad thing.
I was forcing myself to become used to the idea of not seeing the man again, of gradually freeing myself of the bondage of unwanted feelings. It wasn't quite putting it all behind me in the literal sense - my preferred method of dealing with any uncomfortable situation - but it was a close enough second until such a time as I could take to Steel and leave Bree in the dust.
I was a little surprised therefore to see him standing in the doorway. I'll also admit to a little wariness in the face of his standoffishness, even if there was something both adorable and endearing about his stoic and uncaring act. He asked me how I was feeling, I asked him how much he wanted me to lie. His reply that he'd much rather have my honesty set the tone for the rest of the evening, I think. So much so that I suspect I may have said far more than I should.
It seemed like a good idea at the time!
Surely if I told him the truth, informed him of my feelings for him and pointed out the most likely outcome of our continued association, he'd see that the best course of action would be to just walk away? If nothing else, he'd realise that accompanying me to Rohan would be a terrible idea, right? Wrong. He argued that I am no more gifted with Foresight than any other person, that I couldn't possibly know what will happen in the days ahead. He told me in no uncertain terms that he would come to Rohan with me unless I told him outright that I didn't want him to. Bastard.
I didn't want to lie. I've not lied to him in any sense since the day we'd met save perhaps for omission. I had no desire to start now, especially given my words earlier in the evening about honesty. Perhaps I should have lied. Perhaps I should have told him what he needed to hear. Perhaps I should have stated with all the conviction that I could fake that I don't want him to come, that I don't want to spend so much time with him, that I don't want his help. Perhaps I should have, but I couldn't.
I couldn't bring myself to spit into the wind. I've never before met a person, man or woman, around whom I can feel so at ease. I've never before met a person, man or woman, with whom I can be so open. As strange and concerning as it may be, I've never before met a person, man or woman, who I feel I can trust and confide in to such a degree as I do with him. It may be against my better judgment, it may the greatest mistake I'll ever make, but I don't wish to shatter whatever fragile trust he has for me by presenting half-truths and deceits.
I should. I know that I should. I can't physically walk away at the moment, so at the very least I should push him away or distance myself mentally and emotionally, right? I should, but I'm a selfish creature. I have never denied that.
He asked me why. Why do I feel as I do for him? I refused to answer. Beyond my not wanting to inflate his ego further, what could I have possibly said that would make any sense to him? Or to me? That, from the moment I first laid my eyes upon him, I saw a man both strong and vulnerable, confident yet uncertain, capable of such an intense love and passion, wanting to feel it, to give it, to indulge in it but fearful of doing so? Should I have told him that I adore the contrasts in his nature, his moral ambiguity, his understanding and acceptance of my own? Should I have said that looking at him was akin to looking in a mirror, only with enough differences to not render my fascination entirely incestuous? Should I have said that, even when presented with his displeasure, he still somehow manages to make me feel like, in that moment, I am exactly where I should be and in the company of exactly who I should be with? That, however much of it has been feigned, he still makes me feel that I belong? That, in his arms, I am finally safe?
No. I believe that I was correct in not elaborating. Let him think what he wants; that I am mistaken or utilizing strong hyperbole. Let him think that my only interest lies in his pleasing symmetry, his taut frame, the bulge in his trousers. This is not a truth he needs to know. This is not something that needs to be said. Not for as long as it runs the risk of causing trouble for him and the Raven.
Quite aside from the problems that he presents are the more immediate and physical developments. My mastery over my own limbs slowly improves. I can wiggle all the toes of both feet now! He was, if not as excited as I by this, then at least pleased to see that I am healing. More than that, a random bit of banter resulted in him slapping my backside, which I actually felt! Alright, it was a dull sensation and perhaps not as immediately noticeable as it normally would be, but the fact that I felt anything at all in my rear is another vast improvement! If I'm patient, positive and continue to work hard at keeping myself limber, I just know that I'll be back on my feet in no time.
Until then, I'll fight my desires as best I can.
