He took two or three sips of the liquid and let out a grunt as he put the bottle back on the desk with noise. He filled the pipe for a third time and inhaled the smoke that started to make him dizzy after that much smoking. The cloud of smoke around him became thick again and Fion took the quill and dipped it into the ink. “Another ending!” he wrote as the title on the upper side of the page and took another sip of the whiskey.
“What went wrong this time? Was it my fault that we drew apart? How could I not fill that gap between us, is it because I was too focused on the tasks lay ahead? Or that’s it? All things come to an end and this was ours?”
After writing the first sentences he drew a line over the parchment, pressing the quill with strength and heavily let out a long drawn sigh. ”No, I must not…” he thought and drew a deep breath in an effort to keep his composure. He lift his left fist to his head to keep steady but he couldn’t and the hand dropped before starting to shake. With a grunt he let his fist drop on the desk, making everything on it jump, making the bottle fall but he managed to get it before much drink spilt, cursing.
“Distance grows when you don’t expect it and the end comes, at least it was a decent ending, we both agreed that it was inevitable and it made its course. Still… I wish all this would go away…” Fion wrote and took another sip of the whiskey, in an effort to ease what he felt with the liquid. He inhaled as much smoke as he could and let it out, filling the room with smoke. “How can it go away?!” he thought and leaned back again, holding the pipe in his hand right hand, he put it on the desk only to grab the quill.
“I must remain calm and keep my head clear, I cannot falter, we started and I cannot make a wrong decision. It’s an irony, isn’t it? I said to myself that as long as we’re together I won’t be reckless, I will be careful, not get hurt, not hurt her, and keep her by me. And know… It all ended… Making me want to go up there myself… But that would be foolish and I must stick to the plan… Learn things before acting. Taking a sword would only bring death to me and then to others. I cannot and I won’t. I must keep strong!”
And left the quill drop on the paper, not caring if it’d mess anything up and took the bottle in his left hand, he leaned back and started drinking from it, but soon he started coughing. The burning liquid burned his insides and made him choke and cough hard, his hand fell to his side, holding it and he cleared his throat, in an effort to keep strong. “I must not…” he thought and raised his trembling left hand, tightening his grip around the bottle, he looked at it and out it back on the desk. “No, that’s not me… But it has to go away…” he looked around at the mess and drew another deep breath, unable to think what to do.
“I need to focus on the task…It will take it away… For a little bit at least. I can go to Bree to learn things about those men or go straight to Evendim…” he managed to write and furrowed his brows, looking at the paper. “Why am I even writing?” He thought and pushed the journal away. He looked around him once more, breathing deeply, feeling his anger burn in him, yet he didn’t know the reason why. He just sat there, breathing and looking around, he brought his head forward, letting his hair cover his face and took two or three more breaths. “This is not me…” he said and put his hands on the desk so as to push himself up but he let go and sank in the chair again “But I cannot take it…”
He looked at the journal for some moments, not sure whether to write something or not. “What is there to write? As if it will make a difference.” He thought and pushed himself up from the desk, he felt dizzy at that sudden rising and remained motionless for some moments, then he turned around and left the room. He went to his dressers and pulled them all open, trying to find suitable clothing for what he was about to do. He wanted something plain so that he wouldn’t distinguish among others, but also something that could protect him if it’d come to fight. He was sure it’d come to that. “I need to fight… I must make it go away… Even for a little while…” he thought and then turned around to look at his weapons. “I must and I will keep it straight.” He thought and drew a deep breath, trying to keep the intoxication away.
Unable to decide what to wear he took his greatsword and left the house, slamming the door behind him. “No, I shall think straight, we had fun together, we love each other, but this end was inevitable. She deserves to be happy and I hope I managed to make her, even for a short while. Now I must be strong, as must she. I need to clear my head and make it go away…” He thought, he wanted to get some clean air and, who knows, maybe a good fight!
