King Elk Forest -- we can't say we didn't try

"I do not put much faith behind the may be. I fear I am not nearly so persuasive as you believe me to be." He feels if her words were true then none of Tindómë's other founders would have left. He lets it drop there, though, not wishing to spark an argument.

Time has become something of a blur for Mato, admittedly. One day bleeds into the week, a week blends into two, then three, then a month. He can no longer remember how long she’s been gone only that it was long enough for him to grieve her abrupt absence, to the point where he was very ready to forsake Tindómë in search of her. It had not came to that but that does not mean that he did not seriously consider it for a time. They are fastidious about avoiding the elephant in the room, Mato notices. Skimming the surface of pleasantries that did not truly feel to be such ( pleasant that is ) and part of him hates this coldness that has settled between them. He wish it does not have to be so but he acknowledges that he is certainly part of it, if not the catalyst itself. He may does not forgive her because he does not blame her: what happened was what was always meant to happen. He cannot change it any more than he can change how the earth turns around the sun. He does not try to. “You are always welcome in Tindómë, Brienne.” But he understands if she does not wish to linger. She may always be welcome but he wonders if she will always see it as her home? She is present in it regardless: she aided in it’s conception.

“What happened?” Mato inquires with muted curiosity. Why did you leave? is what is hidden beneath the formality. She is not obligated to share if it’s not something she wishes to; even now the druid simply humors her, wondering how long they can avoid the inevitable.

337 words