Found:
I am terrible at cooking. Truly horrendous, in fact! If I am to settle down in a house and spend my years doing something that vaguely resembles "honest" work, then I really need to learn how to make more than stew, trail foods and honey cakes. I'll have to see if I can find a book of recipes to take with me to Evendim...
Rhaug returned and ate with me. I can't for the life of me fathom how me managed to choke down so much of it. I could barely manage two mouthfuls before I gave in. He was, so he said, making up for the last time I cooked for him. He hadn't eaten back then, when he said he would, so instead he would eat now. I told him that, to my mind, forcing himself to consume that meal was tantamount to punishment and that I had no desire to inflict such upon him. He still ate it.
Afterwards he took me up to the clifftop, as promised. He seemed reluctant to leave the hut, much to my surprise. Even in those early days of our association, when we laughed and joked in Towerglan with a tavern to hand, he rarely went indoors. I'd not have thought that he would want to be stuck in such a tiny, rickety little shack for any length of time, but instead happy to be out in the wind, however cold it might be.
There, I broached a subject that has been bothering me for quite some time; the question of his state of mind. Certain comments he has made, both recent and in meetings past, and the look in his eye, lead me to wonder if his grasp upon life is weakening, if he is in danger of letting go...
I'm not sure he understood my meaning when I told him that although I want to live, although I have every intention of wringing another four or five decades out of my existence, if the day should come that he can no longer go on, I'd be right there holding his hand on the way down. I'm not sure the sentiment I meant is the one that I communicated to him.
I wanted to tell him that, should he let me, I'd be right there by his side, alive or dead. I wanted to tell him that, should he let me, I'd be right there by his side through whatever ails him now, through whatever comes tomorrow and beyond, that he is not alone, that I will be there for him with no expectation of return or recompense.
I didn't, of course. I don't think he's ready to hear that, at least not from me. And even if he was, as Toddir has told me, the man is a protector at heart. Would he allow himself to be so treated by a woman he wishes to protect?
I have to be careful in my words and deeds with him. It is not easy. It is not simple. I must show restraint when I want to be wild. I must curb my tongue when I want to speak freely. I must tone down my humour when I want to mock the world and all that is in it. At least for the time being.
Despite my reservations, despite my strong desire to hold him close, to comfort him, to shelter him as best I can from all that brings him sorrow, I let him walk away. Again. I had to. I can't disprove his curse theory if I remain by his side. I can't help him by making him feel shut in and hunted. I don't want to make things more difficult for him.
So, I bide my time, I pick my course, I rest and heal and hope that he will see sense.
Eventually.
