I'm trying to remember how long it's been since I slept in a bed.
I give up. I don't know.
Gods, I never want to move again. It's so warm here. So cozy. These town women have it all figured out. Get married, cook meals, wash the laundry. Sleep in a bed. A real bed.
I wonder what sort of marriage proposal I could make that involves a request for a featherbed.
Now I'm laughing and I can't stop!
I don't know why I feel so absurdly happy. Because I survived being frozen in the mud and nearly starving to death after? Because I can't remember what happened before that, and I may be sparing myself a lot of horrible memories? Because I found Rowan again, alive and whole and so wonderfully himself again? Because spring is coming on, and the season always makes me feel ridiculously energetic and hopeful?
All of those things, I guess.
Everything happens for a reason, doesn't it? I don't know. It's a comforting notion, but if it's not true, I'd rather not be comforted by a falsehood. But if I hadn't gone off with Timony, all the rest wouldn't have happened, and I wouldn't be here now, thinking these things. And I think that changes need to be made, within myself and my life. Changes for the better. So, maybe this was meant to happen.
(some words here are smudged and illegible)
Feck, I fell asleep in the middle of writing and made a mess of the page. I'm too comfortable to get up, but I'll wager my cheek is black now.
I want to return Rowan's kindness somehow. Letting me sleep on his coat in the tavern, bringing me food, offering to pay for a healer to look at me, then offering even more so I could recover properly here at the Pony. I doubt he'd accept coin. He likely wouldn't accept anything at all if he knew it was done as "repayment" of a debt. He's stubborn and frustrating in that way, but the man is who he is. May as well let him be and work with it, I say. Rather, I think the best way to repay him is to think about what would mean the most to him. And if I asked, he'd likely say to keep myself safe and out of danger and do something good with my time and skills and efforts. He did crack a smile when asking me to pay him a visit at his upcoming job in Combe. He knows I will. I have some thoughts in my head that I'm working out. I need more time to sort through it all.
I managed to find a few more coppers in one of the hidden pockets inside my pack, and that will give me a couple more nights here. I feel weaker than I'd like, but the cough is better, thanks to whatever herbs the healer gave me to put in the bath. It smelled atrocious to me, but it worked, so I can't complain.
Speaking of smells, when I arrived here, a man had the gall to comment on my...odor. I'll forgive him for doing so, since he allowed me to snap back at him with a twinkle in his eye and good humor, and before the night ended he offered a drink and to hear the tale of how I got into a such a sorry state. Barst was his name, and I've seen him a few times since. A tall fellow! The tallest I've ever seen! I'll wager he couldn't have stood up straight inside Pa's house without his head going through the rafters. He has a gruff way about him, but I've never minded gruff folks, and it felt absurdly good to banter with someone like I used to do. Seems forever ago that I had any humor or spunk in me. I hope I'm done with being sad and grim so much. I miss myself.
I can feel sleep coming on again. Gods, I can't sleep forever! Come on, body, stop being so pathetically weak! One more thing I wanted to write. What was it? Oh! I saw Master Gungur! Sweet old dwarf, he is! I could hug him for how good it was to see him again. He talked of his travels to these mountains and those mountains, all these places I've never seen. He inspected the dagger and seemed pleased with how I've taken care of it. I ought to see if he could make some arrowheads for me. But he said something that has stuck with me. I don't want to write about it just now, as I'm falling asleep, but
