I once told you that you weren’t meant for a life of safety. A life of kisses on your cheek and mediocre fucking. A life of gossiping with villagers.
At that moment, I was furious with you. There I was, barely able to function, because you kept appearing in my mind, and you were wishing for life with another man.
I’m not proud of the way I behaved that night. But I stand by those words. You weren’t meant for that life you’d so desperately craved. But you were meant for safety. The difference is, I was the one who was supposed to keep you safe.
My nightmares paint vivid horror of what could be happening to you right now. Today, on yet another desolate trail, a stark realization hit me–I would give it all up if it meant your safety.
If I had the power to turn back time and make sure none of this happened, I would give you to Thol. I would make sure you had that life you once craved. I would step back and spend the rest of my life without you if it spared you from this.
But I can’t. And knowing the warrior you are, and the fight you possess for your people, I know you wouldn’t want me to.
Still, I think about it each night, when my arms ache with the need to pull you close. I would love you from afar if it meant you were safe.
Where are you, Prisca?