I don’t know what to do about him.
He’s prickly to the point of brittleness; unbelievably thoughtful underneath but doing everything he can to hide that away from anyone’s view.
But my fire will always try to crack his ice.
The silence between us is quiet and tense, neither of us apparently knowing how to breech it.
Once we cross the line into the forest, though, I decide, fuck it.
I take the damn bow off and wait for him to follow suit with his own disguise.
Then I turn and punch him.
In the arm, not anywhere dangerous.
But movement apparently unlocks him, too, as he blurts, “I’m sorry I sprang that on you.”
I’ve had more time to think now, so my first question is actually, “You must have known that Teren would be panicking. Why didn’t we go there right away?”
It’s not the question he expects, clearly—or maybe he just didn’t expect me to keep walking.
A second later he catches up. “I didn’t realize it would be so bad for him so fast,” Zan says. “I thought the house—my scales—would do more for him. And I didn’t want to rush your first foray into the world in five hundred years.”
“Ever.”
Softly he agrees, “Yes.”
And I can practically see the regret in his eyes—for the past, for how overwhelmed I got, that he thinks he can’t do anything right, and it makes me angry. Notathim, butforhim.
Clarity: I do not like him feeling bad about himself.
Time to clear the air. “Whydidn’tyou warn me?”
No hesitation now. “You’ve spent so long in stasis that I thought the surprise would make it easier for you to act without overthinking.”
“And do you get to decide that for me?”
A pause. “No. You’re right. I apologize.”
This time, I think he means it.
And he did just let me interrogate him, so I decide to leave it there.
If he does it again, I won’t be blindsided, and my wrath will be ready—then.
But surely I of all people must allow that people can make mistakes without being written off entirely.
I punch him again, but very lightly. A nice friendly punch. “Okay.”
Zan glances at me, eyes narrowed. “Okay?”
“Okay,” I confirm. He’ll realize I mean it eventually, but actions, I think, will communicate that more effectively than words. So I say, “I do need to move, but you’ve probably realized that I haven’t really had a chance to imagine how I might live, if I had the freedom to make all my own decisions. And I think maybe I should, but I’m not sure I can—I don’t even really know how to, you know?”
But with Teren, I was able to provide the space for someone else to.
What about me, though?
Zan asks, “Are you unhappy with any of the decisions you’ve made today? Do you feel like you’ve betrayed yourself?”
