Promises, Promises

My day began with breakfast in bed, served by Rory. He himself changed my bandages, re-salved my wounds, and made sure I was well-tended before Artimir even showed up on his rounds. Rory saw to my every comfort and want, letting me know that he'd informed Tazzi of my incapacitation. I thought I smelled her in the city last night, as I sat with Zagosh, but I caught no sight of her.
 
Once I was up and around, I packed a few more of Qiao's supply crates that she had asked for, filling them with basic medical supplies, potions, tinctures, bandages and the like to help her in her fight against the Scourge. These would be delivered to specific drop-points along her route so that she could recover between battles. I only hope they are enough to bring her home safely.
 
Finished with that chore, I went for a walk about the city and found myself looking out across the mesas from the balcony off the chieftain's rise, near the bridge to the Hunter's Rise. I was not long there when I was joined by Qiao and Forgemaster Aurok. The Forgemaster had come himself to assure himself of my well-being after hearing of my injury from Qiao. Aurok was... incensed to say the least. Not at me, no, he cared only for my well-being and swift recovery. No, his ire was leveled toward the quillboar. I have no doubt in my mind that the unfortunate pig-men are going to have a visitation from the Forgemaster and the Palehorns before long. He did not take kindly to the quillboar injuring his apprentice, though he was proud of me for my courage in standing before the Quillboar Juggernaut with Moa'che.
 
Artimir soon joined us along with a strange Forsaken named Benediktion. Not long after, Aurok left on Chieftain business, likely as not to rally the Palehorns to patrol Stonetalon for any further Fel menace out that direction. The Forsaken remained, though, and rambled on about various topics, sometimes tangentially related to what I spoke of with Qiao and Artimir. Sometimes not. He spoke of eating the various sentient races of Azeroth, he compared shu'halo to cows -- were I not so preoccupied I might have been more irritated.
 
It was not until the Forsaken attempted to draw nearer to me, offering to investigate my head injury that the mood on the balcony shifted. Artimir and Qiao were instantly on the defensive, keeping the Forsaken from getting too close. Artimir, in particular, changed demeanor severely. Gone was his congenial bedside manner and his easy banter, there was a frightening seriousness to him, as if he might well and truly hurt this decrepit Forsaken if he so much as laid a hand upon my fur. We eventually had to leave for Qiao's Calling ceremony, whereupon she would speak to the spirit of her lost Junior.
 
It reminded me of my own Calling with Hurskan, Rory, and Sorvitsune; it feels so long ago now, but it has only been a month or two since then. I remembered what it felt like, though, to once more be awash in the love and support of my tribe. To hear their words of comfort, to hear their pride at who I had become, to hear their sorrow at how much I hated myself. To them, I was worthy of all the world had to give. To them, I was enough. I was always enough.
 
After the Calling, I sat with Artimir, Kanikoa, and some of the others in the aftermath. Not long after, Moa'che came bearing a tray full of coffee for everyone which was warm and welcome after the Calling and the emotions it stirred. The coffee was strong and bitter, grounding me back to the Here and Now. I spoke with Moa'che a while, reassuring him of my recovery and asking after his own. The Quillboar Juggernaut had done injury to us both, though I suffered the worse end of the deal. He assured me that the beast was dead, not that I doubted it, for there have been no further calls to arms concerning the quillboar -- though that seems strange to me, given that we only completed half of our patrol route. Did they send in additional Sunwalkers after we retreated? Whatever the reason, I have no doubt that Forgemaster Aurok and his Palehorns will further thin their ranks before it is all said and done -- vengeance for his apprentice -- so there is little need for me to worry.
 
As the night wore on, Rory joined us and Tazzi, while others drifted away on their own various errands and needs. I could tell from the on-set that something was wrong with Rory, though he tried gamely to keep up with conversation. I eventually ended up pulling him aside and we had a long talk about him and Death and fighting this Binding. I tried to give him every reason to live, every reason to fight. He kept telling me that he did not want to die without me knowing he loved me. I reassured him, time and again, that it was never in doubt. He told me that the only person he ever wanted was me. That he hated himself for letting things get to this point, that he had made so many mistakes and it had all gotten out of hand. It was the Binding, I told him, the Binding has ruined all for the both of us. The Binding makes it impossible to see our way ahead, for there is naught but the fog of Death that awaits us there.
 
This is what people do not understand about Rory or myself, but Rory most of all as he has labored under this geas the longest. The Binding makes you feel Death, it makes you feel as if you are dying, every day, by inches. It fogs your mind with the inevitability of your death, it makes you feel as if your life is meaningless, worthless, expendable. That if you died tomorrow there would be none to mourn you. Rory feels this, every moment of every day, non-stop without ease. He can distract himself from it for a time, through his many liaisons with women, through his risk-taking and thrill-seeking, but he cannot escape it. Once the adrenaline and the rush wears off, the feeling of Death returns like a ton-weight to crush the life out of him. These feelings make him want to die, even make him long to die, because it is the easiest way to escape them. But we, his friends, refuse to let him go, refuse to let him find that rest, scramble hither-and-yon to try and do battle for him -- and that only exacerbates his feelings of worthlessness, as if he is a victim of his circumstances who does nothing to help himself. Even though he is out there, every day, working to pay off his debt and free himself from his contract and who knows what else, he may be working behind the scenes as I am with the Syndicate, infiltrating them for information. I do not know.
 
Rory keeps everything close. I never know where he is or what he's doing, just as he never knows the same. He says he always hears about things in the aftermath, or in my case, he reads about them in this journal. Short of asking him to come on every mission, go with me to every duty, travel with me everywhere as if we were attached at the hip, I am unsure of how else I am to keep him apprised of what goes on in my life -- nor for him to keep me apprise of what goes on in his. He has said he is done with secrets, that he chooses to no longer hide from me or Tazzi. I will see how he manages this, and follow suit accordingly, to see what standard he sets for sharing our daily lives.
 
I let Rory cry himself out, I know at one point Tazzi overheard our conversation and some of the things she heard were hurtful to her. I need to find her and talk to her, reassure her that she still has a place here and within Rory's heart. Rory might say that he would give her up for me, but it is not something I want nor expect. He loves Tazzi, just as he loves me, and he would be foolish to let her go. She tries to find the best in both of us and she says we both bring out the best in her. She is a good thing to have in our lives and I will not let Rory throw that away. Once he is clear of the Binding, once he can think with a clear head, we will see where his head and his heart truly lie, but I will not make him choose. He will choose for himself what he actually wants.
 
Once the talking was done, we went out for ice cream. We spoke of other things. I heard some of his family, he heard some of mine. It made me long for more moments like this. Moments where I could actually get to know him, to bond with him in better ways than what we have been. To bond with him in joy and love, instead of pain and sorrow. To have conversations with him that make his eyes light up, his tail wag, and his ears flip-flop. He tells me he wants me to do these things, to ask him for more, to demand more of his time -- but it is a struggle, because he has other friends, other people, other loves who need him just as much as I. He wants me to be selfish, but there is always a point where it is too much selfishness and it is finding that right balance that proves the challenge. Still, I will keep trying.
 
I took him home by the end of it and just let him be awash in my strength and my presence as he slumbered. At some point, I, too slept, but not without letting Tazzi know where we had gone. I will need to talk to her, my Moon, and let her know that everything is all right. Or at least as all right as it can be, until the Bindings are broken.