It had gotten late, and most of the company were in bed now, save for three. Two sat on the rug, sipping from hobbit-sized jugs that looked like shot glasses to them, and one man, deep in thought as they spoke, perched awkwardly on a stool, with his knees level with his chest.
As ever, Furley looked remarkably daft by accident, but he was enjoying the company of Daphnee, who he'd found a quiet game with in trying to make her crack a smile, and Anastasiar, who had always been rather reserved.
After idle conversation, and Furley deciding to defend Deorla's honour (even though he knew there was none) and several shots of hobbit-jugged wine, they'd all began to feel a little light headed, and that's when the conversation had gotten a little more serious. They'd all asked about one another's past, and suddenly decided to know one another.
"Bree lass, born and bred". Standard answer from Daph, but she had revealed that she'd wanted to make her mark, and was looking to prove herself. Aha! Finally the woman cracked on her outer shell to him, and revealed just a little of her desires.
"I'd wanted to adventure, just like my brother, but when I went away and he came to look for me, he died. After that I couldn't go back". Anastasiar had always hinted at her pain, but never really revealed it, and now it made sense why she was often so sullen. Although, she had smiled at the mention of Amaken, her newfound friend.
In fact, it had been the talk of Amaken and his closeness with Ana that had prompted Fur's quickly developing twitch, and he'd unconsciously tapped the pocket with his old ring in once more.
"What's that?"
"My weight to bear" he'd merely grunted. but under their gazes, and after they'd revealed to him, he plucked it out his pocket and tossed it to Daphnee, who caught it rather smoothly, and looked at it.
"What's this? A ring" she'd said, and he'd grunted once more, almost loathe to look at it.
"It's a reminder to me of self-control, and what I once was". She had tried to hand it back to him, but for the first ever time, he'd gazed at his old wedding ring and wasn't sure if he wanted it. Seeing his expression, she placed it on the floor near his foot, and reluctantly he placed his boot over it.
After a while, they'd moved the topic on, and Anastasiar had retired for the night. It wasn't until Daphnee, the woman who had recently come under his employ to assist him with the running of the business and the numerous tasks and people he had to deal with, had kicked his boot and the ring had flung across the room.
A moment of panic had taken him over as every memory of his former wife, Edelinia, flashed before him, and he was frozen on his stool, rooted, almost too shocked to move.
"It seems like you should either keep it, or throw it away. Either or, but you can't be down the middle" Daph had interrupted his thoughts, and offered it to him one more time. Cursing himself, he grabbed it and hastily put it back into his pocket, hating himself for doing so.
From there, it seemed it was his turn. He had told her about Ede, his worries of competence and value to the Company, and in no uncertain terms, she had set him right. For months, he'd wallowed in his own self-pity, fear and doubt, and had let anger turn into self-loathing, and it was like here, now, she was going to force him to look inwards.
"You aren't incompetent, you know. Or without love. You have the Company, and I see it in their eyes that they look to you".
I appreciate your words, but in terms of the Company, I'm not the talent. Merely the conductor".
Daphnee raised her brows. "Oh, they do look up to you, not only that, but at least most of them love you". She clicked her tongue at him. "You can't see it, but I can. I don't know about Deorla, though. Tough to read that one! "So what is it that weighs you down? Your old wife?"
He went a little red, though whether that was from the wine he didn't know. "Don't get me wrong, in hindsight, maybe we weren't compatible. But I have... had? Yeah, let's run with that. Anger issues. From various things. The night she'd left, I was angry. I'd been drinking, too, which she loathed. She left me in the bar, she never could handle my... moment. But all that was left was a note saying she had to go. There's rumours she died, but others say she's seen here and there. But mostly... it's the guilt of not knowing if she actually did die. If she did, it was my fault, because I couldn't control my temperament. Hells, I could've killed her, all because I lost my discipline".
Remarkably, she smiled at him, though that mini-game didn't make it feel like a victory. But something in her eyes made him listen, and it was like a demon had been ousted from within him.
"It's not your fault. It's not your fault she walked out the door when you were hurting. Besides, are you supposed to be there every time something happens? If something happened to her, that's out of your control. It's not your fault she decided to walk out on you. If she's gone back on her vows, it isn't your fault either. You can't blame yourself for every little thing that might have happened. Either way, you've got to let it go. You can't have what you perceive as mistakes dragging you back and weighing you down every step you take, or you'll drown".
She'd said a few more things to him, but as she talked, he remembered every moment. Meeting her in that bar, leaving her to go south, their ceremony by his favourite spot by the water. The brigands at the camp, the fallout in the bar. And the moment she walked out of the tavern and was nowhere to be found when he tried to find her.
And just like that, as he remembered the tavern door opening, his guilt, sorrow, self-loathing, grief and regret all walked out of the door with her, out of his mind and soul, and as the door shut on his memory, it was like he'd breathed air for the first time.
Smiling himself, he walked over to the small fire, sizzling away. Taking the ring between his fingers, he snapped them together, and the ring popped out of his grasp, into the small flames. Finally, he'd been freed. And Daph, his sassy secretary, had been the one to finally make him see what he had in front of him rather than what he'd lost.
"You going to regret doing that? What if someone steals it when the fire dies down?"
"Let them have it" he shrugged, with surprisingly light shoulders. "I'm done waiting for a memory. It may be made of gold but its value to me is worthless".
"Ah, well, that's that then. So, do I get a wage rise for this?"
Looking at her, he laughed. And h elaughed heartily. More than he'd done in a good long time. Pouring her another wine, he grinned, looking at her.
"No".
