Letting Go.

[Jaycy Ashleana]

“Love, do you have a minute?” Jaycy peeked around the door to the office, fingers curling into the wood as she eyed the man who was seated at the massive mahogany desk, papers clustered around the elbows that rested lightly on the desktop. The large square of his laptop’s monitor gleamed in the warm lighting. “Sure,” he answered, quirking a brow inquisitively in her direction. While she wasn’t tightly shielded, he couldn’t get a solid read through the maelstrom of emotion within. A single touch to that tangled mess of sadness, determination, and other unarticulable feelings scalded him and he withdrew swiftly.

She cast him a small smile and eased into the comforting and inviting space; a light fire perfumed the air around them with the hint of hickory and spice. She silently padded toward the fragrant fire, bare toes pressing lightly into the hardwood floor with each step as she made her way unwaveringly toward the flames. Once at her goal, she murred softly, stretching hands toward the warmth.

Finally, though, she turned her back on the flickering flame and spun to face her husband once more. “I’m sorry,” she began with a heavy tinge of apology. “I think it’s time to step away from Dragon’s Gate.” While the regret at such a proclamation was palpable in the air surrounding her, there was no vacillation in either tone or demeanor.

“Oh?” He leaned forward on his elbows, peering closely at her as she settled hands at her sides. “Whyfor, love?” His own speaking voice was neutral; query without judgment. She sighed, stealing a glance beyond him, over his shoulder, before refocusing her gaze on his dark green eyes. “A multitude of reasons,” she finally answered. “I’m finding less and less time to try and stay active in the sport or district, and that is a disservice to both the title and to the people within the Barony’s borders.”

He nodded slowly at her first reason, motionless otherwise. “We – I – am pulled in too many other directions. Work, the job, the boys, the ship….” She trailed off, grasping a breath before releasing a soft, tired chuckle. “Most of my own making.” She paused again, then resumed her explanation. “But, still. Something has to give, and of all, the Barony is the most expendable.”

That answer gained another slow cant of his head in acknowledgment. “I’m not interested, either,” came her next reason. “If I really cared, I could force myself to make the time to stay active and serve the people well. But I’m not there anymore, not really. I haven’t entered at least the last three quests, I duel once a month at best, and even when I’m there, all I want to do is stay by the bar and watch.”

“Alright…” he finally spoke, accepting that answer. He fell silent, though, waiting to see if there was truly more from the (usually) red-headed woman. “I don’t care about the people, either. I miss all my old friends; I’m not interested in getting to know the arrogant prats that inhabit the duels now.” She finally moved, shrugging, and reversing to face the fire again. “Mmmm,” she mumbled. “I know you’re starting to find more time there, but there are so few left that I care to talk to, much less fight against.”

“You don’t feel they deserve at least a chance? Some of them aren’t as bad as you might feel now, love,” he gently lectured. She stilled, then cast a small smile over her shoulder. “I’m sure they are. I just don’t care.” Another shrug lifted her left shoulder and she spun, taking slow steps toward the oversized leather chair in the corner of the office. She eased into the comfortable embrace, tucking her feet under her. “I’ve been there often enough, watched them, but just … it’s not there.” Yet again he nodded. “Alright.”

He clasped his hands, watching her, and pausing to see if she had more to add. Finding her silent, though, he finally resumed active questioning of her thoughts. “Are you sure it’s not something you’ll change your mind on in a few weeks?” He sighed, finally leaning back in his chair. “Is this something you won’t regret doing?”

She leaned forward in the chair, settling more easily in the seat before leaning back and snuggling in. “Aye, I’ll regret it,” she admitted without a hint of rancor at what could have been seen as an insult. “I’ve been a dueler for 15 years now; a title holder for many of them. I’ll regret letting down the people; I’ve always felt as a Baron with a district I should give back.” A soft sigh released slowly. “But I think, right now, I’d regret not doing it and forcing myself to continue to take on that responsibility more than I’d regret letting it go.”

“What will you do if and when you regret doing it?” His voice remained gentle, soothing, and as tender as the look he cast on her. For a fleeting moment, she grinned brightly at him before quipping. “I’ll cry, find you, and make you hold and make love to me until I don’t regret it anymore.” He chuckled, making a show of shaking his head. “Alright, love. I won’t argue with that.”

The brightness faded and she exhaled. “Though if someone horrid like Anubis were to gain the Barony, I’d come back to take it from them,” she admitted. “I can’t leave the people at the mercy of some of the duelers here.”

“Of course not,” he responded with no irony. After several moments, he concluded, “I’ll leave the staff in the school for the next squire.” She smiled wanly and uncurled her legs before easing to her feet. “Thank you, Psly. And … I’m sorry.”

“Jaycy,” he chided, shaking his head, “… don’t be sorry for doing something you feel you need to do to be happy. That’s the more important thing. I’ll get that done later tonight, alright?”

She nodded and glanced toward the door. “I’m going to go announce it on the boards now and then get something to eat; I’ll be home later.” With a hint of her usual spirit, she blew him a kiss and then took herself out of the office to complete her errand.