"Harlen, dammit, you've been propping up my bar for two weeks now." Tammer groused, drawing a greasy rag over the oaken top of his bar. "It's not doing you any favors."
The huntsman's head came up from regarding his Coghlandish rum and looked at his former mentor, and current friend with a bleary eye. "How long did you mourn Loskenaur's departure, Tammer?" Harlen snapped.
Tammer thought a moment, then sighed. "A few months." He said. "And sometimes, I still do." His face fell and he shuffled down the bar to another patron who seemed to have run out of ale.
It had, indeed, been two weeks since Harlen had returned, without Hyandai, from Windir. He moved like an automaton, like a piece of Tammer's ridiculous water clock, which dripped and splashed behind Harlen's back.
In those two weeks, he had not hunted, nor had he processed any of the pelts or skins that he was already working upon. He simply existed, for all intents and purposes. He would sleep late, then rise and do some minor chores to maintain the house and its small grounds, then he would make his daily pilgrimage to Tammer's bar, and there ensconce himself upon the leftmost of the bar stools and begin to get seriously drunk.
The routine alarmed Harlen's friends, which he had more than he thought. His willingness in the past to help those in need of help, and to drop his own projects to help others complete theirs had won him many people who saw him as a worthy neighbor and gentleman.
They all worried for him. He did not shave, he did not bathe daily, and he seemed to be cold and distant now, rather than friendly and approachable.
Trevir and Tammer noticed it the most, naturally, both being close to Harlen. Trevir even tried a few times to do what he could to help Harlen, though it only earned him rebuke and scolding from his mentor.
The lad had finally confided in Tammer that Harlen cried at night, and was seen looking out his bedroom window. Tammer simply nodded and told the lad to still his tongue over gossip like that, but he worried for the both of them.
One of the outcompanies had now returned, the one of which Wendy was a part. She came to the house, freshly changed from her uniform and back into one of the modest dresses favored by the women of Morrovale.
She walked the flagstones from the road to Harlen's door nervously. At her knock, Harlen answered the door.
Wendy managed to not gasp as he looked at her. His skin was pale and rather sickly-looking and his hair was tangled, uncombed yet this day, and his eyes were bloodshot.
"Wendy." Harlen said, a bit surprised, but not terribly demonstrative in his reaction.
The young woman smiled bravely. "Harlen, how fare you?" She said, immediately regretting the question as she suddenly realized what his condition must mean.
He turned and invited her in with a gesture, and she followed. The house was clean, probably, she thought; do to Trevir's diligence.
"Hyandai is no longer here, and may be a while in returning." Harlen said, looking at her and offering her a seat while he scooted the rocking chair over beside the long bench.
Taking a seat, Wendy looked at him. "I am so sorry." She said. "You miss her terribly already, I see."
Harlen chuckled. "It is like missing the air." He said. "It is not something I thought of when she and I began our relationship – How bad it would feel if it might end."
Wendy touched his hand. "It's not ended, is it?" She asked.
"No." Harlen said. "But there is a war in the elven lands, and she may well not come back, falling to the blades of traitors." His face twisted with an expression of hatred and rage.
A long moment passed, with Wendy covering her mouth and her eyes wide in horror. "Poor Hyandai, and poor you, too, Harlen." She said, again patting his hand gently.
A long moment passed, with her watching his eyes. "Should I leave?" Wendy asked.
Harlen chuckled bitterly. "It is your choice, Wendy. Believe it or no, Hyandai bade me to seek your company."
She blinked a moment. "Okay." She finally said.
"I don't expect anything of you." Harlen said, rising form his seat, making the rocking chair creak with his shifting off of it. "You may stay here, if you wish it, with or without being a companion to me."
She smiled gently. "Harlen." She said, standing herself and putting a small hand upon his neck. "I am involved with both Hyandai and you. I do not seek out either of you alone, as Hyandai said is a rule. But if you seek me, with her blessing, then it should be allowable."
Harlen nodded. "I leave it to you." He said. She could see a rather hollow look to his eyes, like someone was in there, but they wished to remain hidden.
She giggled. "Leave it to me? What do you wish?" She asked. "Harlen, I am still a whole person, and seek to only be with people who wish my company."
Harlen looked at her, his eyes gaining a little of the light of realization. "I wish you to stay." He said.
Her rather hurt expression changed quickly to a broad smile. "Then I will stay with you." She said.
He felt her hand on his neck shift to his cheek where its mate took up position opposite on his other cheek. She pulled him down and kissed him.
After a moment, he allowed himself to enjoy the kiss, then put his arms around her slender shoulders and held her tightly to him.
Wendy's tongue wormed into his mouth and petted his own, encouraging him to further deepen the kiss.
He did so, and their kiss quickly became more passionate. Harlen's defenses were down somewhat, through shock and surprise; first by Wendy's appearance, then by her acceptance of him alone. He felt her welcoming embrace of his body and the heat of her kiss, and it was good to feel wanted.
