Time had passed at a painstakingly slow pace since she made the "Mature decision" to leave the company of her love and the others back in Buckland. A decision she still believed to be right, though not without risk nor worry. What comforts she had gained in way of her own bed, familiar surroundings, friends and family, were counteracted by the deep worry that weighed heavy in her heart.
She had left the man she had become close to, closer than any other she would allow, in the company of a woman who, in Jackilyns mind was bitter, cruel and likely not of right mind. Yet, he had made a choice to "Coddle" Miss Ruevir. She detested that word, a word he would always direct to Jackilyn when he felt frustration or doubt, yet one she disagreed with, for it was the other woman who he sought to place attention on, should it be due to her ill behavior or his belief he was to "fix" her. In an effort to allow his strange mind a chance to know peace and not conflict, Jackilyn left her lover, and those whom accompanied them, She left the spiteful words of his probable apprentice, the others whom she had begun to like, to return to familiar surroundings.
Was there, in the courtyard of the inn, that she took company of the dwarf Maddoct. A dwarf she considered to be of the highest standing, of good morals, deserving of respect and her friendship. To say he was surprised at her return, and the dismay he felt, was great. He condemned what had happened, comforted her with words and a little company, and though short lived, it gave her strength enough to return home, to face a cold, dark house, without tears upon her cheeks. She did not eat, instead she collapsed upon her bed, the small cat nestling in her side.
The following day they met again, with answers on her lips, questions and opinions upon his, and they dined. She was ravenous. Little did she realise she had gone a day and a half without food and all she wished at the moment was comfort, and so they had ale, the richest of ales and the most indulgent of fruit pies, coated with cream. They drowned their sorrows, shared their worries and spoke of their hopes. He advised her, and although her head heard sense, her heart fought the words. In turn, she listened to his woes, asked him questions and thought on solutions. They were as one over the meal, even if they were very different in body, their upset and means of dealing with it very, very similar. She made a promise to the dwarf, and one she would keep, then they parted ways for the night.
The market was closed, the traders carts loaded, the shutters closed, all save the baker who was selling the days left over bread more cheaply than at the morn. She carried a small loaf under her arm, her legs trudging through the long grass of the forest as she let the moonlight lead her in the direction of home, and once there, faced questions anew.
She was exhausted, a little tipsy, though not merry, and did not wish to answer Quentins questions as to what happened. He was a quiet man normally, though his concern was obvious and he could not help but try to find out what had happened. His mother made tea, for she thought all the worries in the world seemed to lessen after a cup, her son though just held Jackilyn and rubbed her back soothingly with his large palm as the girl rested against him, no words from her lips, no stories shared, no questions answered. She felt numb. Every thought she had was of the one she had left behind, and it had exhausted her. She loved him, she worried for him, she was adrift and confused. Things were different, as if the man were two separate men in one body. She yearned for his return, she feared for it also.
