[ There he goes. Fern watches Adrian's retreating back as she wonders why she can even still be thrown off-balance by him. She should know better, she shouldn't be surprised anymore, and yet— ]
What difference does it make? [ She echoes the words, incredulous in spite of herself. ] Is it not normal, to want to return home? [ She can't understand it, especially when surely Faerûn had been a more comfortable place — a place more worthy of the term "home" — for Adrian, than it had ever been for her?
But that's also not the entirety of what he's asking. ]
Isn't it obvious? Because you're—
[ My friend, she could say. Pack, she could say, even though she isn't certain he'd even understand, as much as she might hope he would.
But saying those words when it feels more and more like the sentiment isn't returned, not in a way where Adrian would care to even try and find a way back with Fern and the others (for their sake, if not his own), makes the words die in her throat.
He's already packed up all the food in his rush to get away from her. She barely ate anything. ]
Nevermind. I'm going out. [ She grabs her jacket from the chair and pulls it on one arm at a time. It's cowardly, she knows, to run from this — but he's doing the same, and she doesn't see them finding any sort of common ground right now. ]
[ As is usual for him, Adrian doesn't realize how foolish he's been until it's far too late. Not until she says isn't it obvious, even if she doesn't finish. It lingers there between them, more devastating than if she'd spoken it aloud.
Adrian would never hesitate to describe Fern as family; as like a sister, as his dearest friend... but there is ever a part of him that doesn't quite expect the sentiment to be returned, not because Fern is unkind, but because — she knows him. She's put up with too much from him. If she does find an opportunity to part with him, to return to their traveling companions or even the life she's accustomed to, why would she have any need of him then?
But he knows, deep down, that he's lying to himself. It's the same reason he would never abandon her. It's always been that, and it terrifies him. It's so much easier to imagine that she'll leave than it is to imagine what will happen if she stays, no matter what, to be dragged down with him.
He knows that he should try to stop her, but he doesn't.
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What difference does it make? [ She echoes the words, incredulous in spite of herself. ] Is it not normal, to want to return home? [ She can't understand it, especially when surely Faerûn had been a more comfortable place — a place more worthy of the term "home" — for Adrian, than it had ever been for her?
But that's also not the entirety of what he's asking. ]
Isn't it obvious? Because you're—
[ My friend, she could say. Pack, she could say, even though she isn't certain he'd even understand, as much as she might hope he would.
But saying those words when it feels more and more like the sentiment isn't returned, not in a way where Adrian would care to even try and find a way back with Fern and the others (for their sake, if not his own), makes the words die in her throat.
He's already packed up all the food in his rush to get away from her. She barely ate anything. ]
Nevermind. I'm going out. [ She grabs her jacket from the chair and pulls it on one arm at a time. It's cowardly, she knows, to run from this — but he's doing the same, and she doesn't see them finding any sort of common ground right now. ]
I'll be back later.
🎀
Adrian would never hesitate to describe Fern as family; as like a sister, as his dearest friend... but there is ever a part of him that doesn't quite expect the sentiment to be returned, not because Fern is unkind, but because — she knows him. She's put up with too much from him. If she does find an opportunity to part with him, to return to their traveling companions or even the life she's accustomed to, why would she have any need of him then?
But he knows, deep down, that he's lying to himself. It's the same reason he would never abandon her. It's always been that, and it terrifies him. It's so much easier to imagine that she'll leave than it is to imagine what will happen if she stays, no matter what, to be dragged down with him.
He knows that he should try to stop her, but he doesn't.
He watches her go without a word. ]