mousezilla

I'm feeling well enough to sit up and write, though I'm sure Finwë would pout make that reproachful face at me if he knew I wasn't resting. But so much has happened in the span of a single day, if I don't get in down on paper, I think my head might explode.

Finwë. I did pray for some sort of guidance, something to help me calm the whirlwind that I feel when I'm with him, and I suppose I got what I asked for, in a way. 

I met with Rhyssien in Fairbreeze to discuss progress on the caravan. We got some business done, but then the conversation took a slightly personal turn, him wondering aloud about getting to know me, and if my stutter meant I was excited to see him. I think I'm rather proud of myself, I only blushed somewhat, and even managed to say something halfway clever. "Not my type," and I'm sure I was smiling a little as I said it. Then he took my glasses. I could have sworn I heard a noise behind me then, but I was too busy trying to get my spectacles back to make much of it

It must have been while my attention was on cleaning the lenses that Finwë strolled in. I should have set a time for us to meet, or said something to Rhyssien about the possibility of a visitor... the rest of the meeting was a disaster. Sharp words and insults were exchanged... I was a little surprised at Finwë. In the short while I've known him, he always seems to want to play to each new audience, displaying himself for any possible admirers. It's something I find amusing and actually rather envy, in a way. But once Rhyssien insulted the little worg pup, Finwë very nearly did something drastic and unpleasant to him. It would have seemed a disproportionate response, except that I have at least some idea what little Lou means to him. Even before that, however, it felt as if he had come in with claws already unsheathed, so to speak.

After my new business partner left, I found Finwë out on the terrace. He offered to apologize to Rhyssien. I was touched, I have the feeling apologizing is not something Finwë does often or readily.

He confessed he was jealous... confessed with words that still make my stomach clench and my face feel so warm I think my ears might burst into flame. I realized he'd been watching us, cloaked or invisible and quite probably from the very start of the meeting. Light, all he did was hold me close and speak to me, and I was so close to throwing myself at him... but then he said something that cooled my ardor enough to let me think for a moment...

"The healing will stop."

Even if I wasn't already called to the healer's path, as a thinking, feeling being I could not, would not put my own selfish carnal desires above the healing of another, especially someone like Finwë. Already I care for him, nothing so deep as love, no, but certainly enough to want him to be well and as happy as one can be in these strange times. As much as I might want him, want to know of all the things he promised in that honeyed, dark voice, it's not what he needs now. So I will only offer the embrace of a friend, and no more. No matter how much I might wish differently.

Of course, he would make it difficult to keep such a resolution... the devilish look in his eye as he pressed me up against that wall... Oh dear. If I weren't feeling quite so ill right now, I might have a problem on my hands. The same problem I had then, actually. By mutual decision, we went to Orgrimmar, a loud, crowded, very open city. Another hop, and we were in Stranglethorn, sitting on a beautiful white sandy beach that I must go back to some time, in the daylight, and perhaps explore the wrecked ships just offshore. I don't know WHY he chose that particular beach, it was a place torn from the pages of a tawdry romance novel. It seemed counter to the idea of being places where we wouldn't be... inspired.

To our good fortune, I suppose, that there were other people there. An orc, a limping, dour-faced Sin'dorei, and a Forsaken man that, well, quite put to rest any notion of a romantic atmosphere with his... leaking and occasional devouring of the bugs on his person.

I will be quite glad when I don't have to see that bucket at the bedside anymore.

There was fighting, and shouting, and Finwë attempting to start a game that I was wretched at, but he seemed to enjoy. It had been a long day, and even as boring as my life is, I was disinclined to share intimate details about it with complete strangers, so I took my leave and used my hearthstone to go back to Ratchet and my rented rooms at the inn. As I was findind to be a distressing constant to the day, luck wasn't with me. The hilltop inn was bustling and lively, Captain Arrowsong, his hyena, and some of his companions waylaying me before I could slip by. I was conversing with a very strange girl when I heard someone call Finwë's name... he'd followed me, and was being so uncharacteristically quiet I hadn't realized he was there.

He asked me, so quietly, why I had run away, and looked displeased when I told him I had a room at the inn. Any further discussion was cut short by Arrowsong, who for some reason feels the need to torment Finwë. The cad decided to use me to do it this time, insinuating things. It worked too well, Finwë got quite angry before taking himself inside and away from the smirking, infuriating man. I... punched the Captain. On the arm, which proved to be unwise as he wears armor, even while at leisure. Small wonder, if he insists on needling people.

I found my dear Finwë friend in the room I had rented, looking quite sad. He held me, and made me promise not to run away again... there are times, every so often, when I feel as if he's not speaking to ME, but to someone else, someone only he sees...

He seemed to take comfort in having me close, so we sat and talked, being interrupted once by a troll coming to retrieve his pants, (and that goblin had sworn to me that my room was cleaned and unoccupied while I was gone. Even I should have known better than to trust a goblin...) and again by a... very tall, very strange Sin'dorei man who insisted on healing the hand I had injured earlier striking an armored man. He seemed to ignore Finwë entirely, which was very unusual in my expereince.

Then his voice was in my mind, telling me I was beautiful, that I pleased him... and asking me to come with him. I felt the strangest pull, something pushing me towards him, but... then I remembered my promise to Finwë. I managed to step back and take my meldir's hand, declining both the verbal and the mental invitations. The priest only smiled, warm and confident as he left.

After that, the details get muddled. My head started spinning and the world seemed to shift under my feet, and Finwë, Light bless him, bundled me up in his arms like a child and ported us away to Silvermoon, where he tucked me into bed and then vanished, reappearing some time later with a pale, emotionless elf who examined me and deducted that I had been the victim of some sort of mind tampering, most likely by that tall priest. I was made to feel quite foolish and naive for leaving myself so trustingly vulnerable to someone like that, with only a twitched brow and a few clipped words... but he only seemed to want to help, at least at first...

An injection of some purple concotion, a few dry, cryptic comments later and a demand I come to see him in a few day's time, and he was gone, leaving me alone with Finwë. Poor meldir, he seems quite unnerved and even frightened of this cousin of his. He must have been worried indeed to have gone to that elf for help.

I felt so shaken... I asked Finwë to stay with me, but... to my surprise, he kissed my brow, promised he wouldn't be far, and left the room. 

I have slept little, but whatever that odd cousin injected me with is making me rather ill. Finwë was wise to put that pail by the bedside, else I'm afraid I would have made a terrible mess of this very warm, soft be ((writing trails off))