It's over.

You should be proud of me. I'm doing quite well now -- no more tears, no more hysterics. In retrospect, the conversations didn't even go all *that* badly. (All right, I'm fooling myself... just let me remember it my way).

Jerrym knows. And if anything, his opinion of me is even lower than before. So you needn't fear that I'll be corrupted by my horrid taste in men -- he'll have nothing to do with me.

I need to talk to someone. I've already talked to Cybele and Benedict... and neither conversation went well. I don't want everyone knowing of my embarassment. I've missed you horribly, and just in case you come back (Brennan mentioned you at dinner tonight), I've written this. It'll save us some time. And I won't have to actually say any of it again. I'm not so sure I could.

I had been thinking, for a long time, about certain things I found out, and what I could do about them. And I thought I had come up with the perfect plan. I thought it would make him happy... and that was all I ever really intended to do.

I couldn't find him, so I left him a note, and headed out into shadow. I was searching for his daughter. Yes, Jerrym apparently has a daughter... his and Rhiannon's. I had hoped her blood would help me create something by which I could speak with Rhiannon.

Jerrym contacted me, which actually surprised me. I'd half expected him to ignore the note. I was both pleased, and terrified, that he hadn't.

I smiled hesitantly, and brought him through, after he had pointed out that if I were to go to him, I'd have to start my travels all over again.

I couldn't figure out what to say. I decided to start with an apology. "Sorry I was such a bitch." I'd been snapping earlier, everything getting the better of me. Not one of my best days. It seemed like everything I said cut Jerrym.

He looked at me strangely. "Oh, you mean at breakfast."

I nodded. Then it was silence again, with him looking at me, waiting for me to say something. After all, I'd called him there. It was up to me to start talking. "You're not going to make this easy, are you?" I asked softly.

"That depends on what you intend to do." He looked mildly curious, and mildly perturbed. Like I'd disturbed him without good reason. I could feel my face reddening, my palms sweating. I wiped them against my slacks.

When I finally managed to get a word out, they all tumbled against each other, desperate to be said. "Would you mind listening and not pulling a sword on me or anything until I'm done talking?" That was important. He wasn't going to be happy to be talking to me about Rhiannon. I knew that. I didn't want to die before I had a chance to say what I was going to say.

"I suppose," he said mildly.

"I'll take your word on it." I smiled slightly, then looked away. "Oh... how do I start this?" I muttered. I was looking around, at anything but Jerrym. "After Rhiannon died, you got weird, and that wasn't surprised, since any fool could tell how much in love with her you were. I thought at first that maybe you were being suicidal, thinking that maybe if you died you'd be with her." I risked a glance at him, and saw only confusion. I went back to staring at the trees. "I realized that's not it. So I started paying close attention, and I figured out that..." I hesitated, my face flaming, and finally managed to stammer, "I figured out that she's not gone and that she's who you were talking to in Tir. And that you're probably trying to get her back."

"What would make you think something like that?" His voice was without emotion. As if he either didn't agree with me, or I'd gone and stepped on something I really shouldn't have. I figured it was probably the latter.

I think this is when I figured out I'd made a mistake. My offer wasn't going to be accepted. I was only about to get in over my head and make things horribly worse for me. But it was too late. Jerrym wouldn't let me get away without an explanation now.

"I put some things together," I waved off the question. Truthfully, Lydia had told me, but I wasn't going to tell Jerrym that. It had been obvious once I knew, and if I weren't so blinded by how I felt about him, I would have noticed it on my own. "She's not gone, is she?"

"Perhaps you should talk to your father about this. He will be able to give you a more objective opinion on what might have taken place."

I could see it in his eyes. Whatever Benedict believe, it wasn't what Jerrym believed. I shook my head. "Before I keep going," I sighed. It was important to get it out in the open. To make him say it. "Do you think she's not gone?"

"Yes I do."

"Do you think her soul is with you?" I spit the question out before I could hesitate.

"Yes I do."

I think my heart started to break then. I hadn't really thought about it. Hadn't stopped to consider it. He still loved her. Still believed that the woman he loved was with him every moment of the day. "Do you think you can get her back?" I asked softly.

"Its not something I have given a lot of thought to." He looked at me strangely, as if wondering where I was going with this. As if some part of him, perhaps, had already realized it. And had already started to go cold against me.

After a few moments of painful silence, I offered, "I have."

"Maybe you shouldn't," he said curtly.

"Its what you want, isn't it?" I prodded him. I could see it. I could feel it from him. He misses her still. But he didn't answer me, starting at me silently. My expression fell. "But you don't want me involved."

"Its not that simple," Jerrym explained. He had that flat expression of his, where I couldn't tell if he was angry or merely telling me some simple truth. "I don't know if you could solve all the problems that would come with undertaking such an enterprise."

"I don't know how to do it." I had to admit it. If he'd asked me, there was no way I could bluff through bringing her back. "I haven't even started to figure that part out." I looked back at him, back at the horrible blankness, and sighed in frustration. "I was trying to find a way to talk to her because I thought that maybe talking to her would work better than talking to both of you. She can hear me, right?" I looked at him curiously, remembering vividly how Jerrym was speaking to himself in Tir, and remembering that he must have been talking to her then.

"I think so, yes."

"Okay, um..." I hesitated for a moment, then I spit it out quickly, before I lost my nerve. "My offer's for both of you, not just for you. I can solve two of your problems. I can shapeshift." Jerrym nodded his agreement -- after all, that was fact. "If you've got her soul, you need a place for it to go."

"No." His response was immediate.

"It solves all your problems," I said flatly.

"It does not solve all of my problems."

He was disagreeing with me, and I didn't believe him. I knew how he felt, how he wanted me out of his way. Even if he wouldn't admit it to himself. "Yes it does!" I protested. "If I become her, and you put her soul in me, than I cease to exist. I won't be in your way with Benedict. I won't be bothering you. No more hassles... nothing. And you get Rhiannon back, which is what you want."

He sighed then, and I wanted to force myself to look at him directly, but I couldn't. "No strings attached," I said firmly. "No promises. No nothing."

I could almost feel his silence. I'd stunned him. I couldn't look at him. I just stared out into space, feeling my face burn, waiting to see what he said next. And dreading it.

"I don't know how to respond to that." His voice was flat, his words honest.

"Why don't you ask her?" I couldn't understand it. After all, if she were there, shouldn't she be involved in the conversation? I regretted not waiting until I found a way to hear her. To know what she said.

"Its not a matter for her to decide."

"We're talking about her life," I protested. "I think its at least partly her decision."

Jerrym's expression burned into me. Still flat, it held a sudden loathing and disgust. "Let me put it this way. If she would choose to take you up on your offer, then she isn't the woman I fell in love with."

My voice was small but firm. "The offer is given knowing fully what it would mean." I had thought about it. Over and over and over. It had come to the point where I had just kept thinking about this conversation. But somehow in my head it always went better than this. He always gave into his baser instincts and chose her over me. It made so much sense when I had thought about it before. I couldn't completely understand why reality wasn't going anywhere near as well.

He sounded disturbed. "Adrienne, I don't know why you think that I want you dead."

I had a moment's hope at the comment, but I quickly squashed it. I knew better. "I think that you want me out of the way. There's a difference." I knew how to get my point across. "Let's put it this way. If you had a choice, and only one of us could exit, which one would you pick? Honestly. I already know the answer."

"If Rhiannon was restored to the way she was, then you."

"Huh?" That made me look at him.

"You heard me."

"Why?" I struggled to calm myself, to force myself to understand what he was saying. Wondering why he was torturing me like this.

"Because that would be the better choice."

And then I understood. "Because I have no strings attached with Sebastian."

"That could be part of it," he admitted.

It was all of it. I knew then. He wanted Rhiannon back, but he couldn't have her if she was still controlled by her father. I guess I could understand that. But oh, it still hurt, realizing that that was the only reason I was considered the better choice. I somehow wanted to force him to say something, to force him to admit how he really felt. "I made the offer. You at least owe me an answer why," I prodded him.

"I don't owe you anything," he said flatly.

I looked away again. It didn't matter, since I knew what he wasn't saying. "No, actually you don't," I mumbled. After all, I was the one who had put him out. Who had disturbed him. This whole mortifying mess was my fault.

"Even if I were to take you up on it, and it were to work, your offer would cause me more problems with a great number of people," Jerrym continued. "Or do you think that Benedict and Cybelle would look kindly upon this?"

Wonderful. First Sebastian's control over Rhiannon, now the feelings of my mother and my father figure. How awful to know that none of his reasons had to do with me. It was like every word he said drove the daggers deeper.

"I think my mother would understand." I thought she would... she had done a lot for love when she was younger. "And if she did, then Benedict would have to deal with the situation."

He was silent then. I think it had finally sunk in, completely, that I had tried to offer him a way to have her back. I think, perhaps, he had gone beyond being simply horrified at the solution, and had started to consider it.

"If I need a shapeshifter, it will not be you."

I sighed heavily. I was right -- he was considering it. I could see it in my mind's eye... Rhiannon with Jerrym again, and that silly smile on his face. The same one Benedict had when my mother returned. I felt the daggers drive deeper again, and twist in my gut. "I'd rather it *was* me."

Jerrym stared at me. "If you have a wish for suicide, you need not involve me in it."

"I have no wish for suicide." I shook my head, and stared at my feet, at my hands. Anything but Jerrym.

"That's what this is." I couldn't help it. My mind still played tricks on me, making his voice coaxing and gentle, when I knew it wasn't.

"Its for a reason," I muttered.

"It doesn't matter if its for a reason."

"You don't think there can be a good enough reason?" I turned and was yelling all of a sudden. I couldn't seem to stop myself. He tried to interrupt, but I rolled right over his words. "I've thought it through. I know what I'm doing and I know why I'm doing it."

"Why are you doing it?"

Oh god. The question fell flat between us, and I stopped dead. I looked at him, saw that completely analytical, curious look, and realized he had no idea. After everything, he still had no idea.

I couldn't say it. I had my chance, and I just couldn't say it. Because I already knew what his reaction would be, and I couldn't handle any more rejection. I was already hurt horribly enough. Anything more would have been the nail in my emotional coffin.

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter to you."

"So you are entitled to an explanation, and I am not."

"Obviously I'm not entitled to explanations because you don't give me any!" I shouted back at him.

"And you don't give me any." His voice fell flat, starting a long, uncomfortable silence.

I look away, surveying the trees, trying desperately to hold back the tears. "Oh well, I made the offer. Sorry to have inconvenienced you."

He made a disgusted sound, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him Trump out.

I was already crying before I trumped my mother. She was somewhere sunny, on the beach, in a place far too cheerful for me right then. "Can you come here?" I hiccupped. "I don't think I could take being there."

She came through and held me while I cried. She didn't say a word until I was ready to talk. And then I told her the whole mess. That I knew it was a mistake, but that I'd somehow done it anyway. And that I'd gone and screwed everything up.

I think I'd been hoping for sympathy. I thought she'd understand -- after her troubles with Benedict! But instead I got a lecture. A gentle lecture, but a lecture nonetheless. About trying harder to see someone else's side. About owning up to my mistakes.

"Where do you think he has gone?"

I couldn't think at first. I had told her how Jerrym's only objections were because Rhiannon wouldn't do it, and Cybele and Benedict wouldn't like it. I felt the color drain from my face. "Benedict?" I shook my head. I didn't want to think about it.

"If he has already spoken to Benedict, it would be best if you went there and told him yourself," she prodded gently.

I didn't like that idea. The thought of facing Benedict... explaining that I'd been silly enough to try to convince Jerrym to end my life... so to speak anyway. No, I really didn't like it.

"Of course, you could always just tell Jerrym why you made the offer."

My eyes snapped to her. "I couldn't do that." My voice was choked. "The look on his face. I just couldn't..." I sighed. "You're right, though. I need to own up to my mistakes."

Before I could really think it through, and more importantly, change my mind, I trumped Benedict.

"Hi." My smile was a bit shaky as I stepped through. "I, um, did something stupid, and my mother thought I should tell you." I was nervous, and even someone as imperceptive as Jerrym would have noticed. So obviously Benedict picked up on it.

"Are you telling me because you want to, or because your mother thought you should?" he asked me solemnly.

I raised my eyes to meet his and admitted, "She thought I should start owning up to my mistakes, and I have to admit, she's right." I sighed deeply. "Has Jerrym been here?" When Benedict nodded, I was hopeful. Maybe I was off the hook. "Did he say anything?"

I should have known it couldn't be that easy. "Why don't *you* tell me what happened."

I groaned softly, and once again, spilled the entire story. In some ways it was easier to talk to Benedict. Maybe it was because he didn't judge me. Maybe it was because he understood where all my problems with Jerrym stemmed from... because Jerrym is envious of my place with Benedict. When I was done, I felt relieved somehow. While he agreed that it was a stupid idea, he didn't seem inclined to berate me over it.

Then I found out where Jerrym had gone. To see Samuel. The one person who could easily tell him, in *glowing* detail, exactly how I felt about him. This was it, my life was over. I wanted to go hide somewhere.

But I stayed talking with Benedict. We talked about all the difficulties I have with Jerrym, and he suggested that if Jerrym still didn't understand, after we had a chance to talk, that who I am has nothing to do with his place with Benedict, well, I should let Benedict know. Somehow relieved that at least in part, I could share that problem, I agreed.

Then I made arrangements to have dinner sent up, when it was time, and went to my room. I'd been up in Tir the night before, and I was exhausted and ready for a nap. Besides, if I couldn't leave just yet, curling up into a very small ball on my bed was at least some comfort.

I was woken by a tap on my door. "Yes?" I expected to hear one of the servants calling out that they had my tray.

Instead I heard Jerrym's voice. "I need to talk to you."

I realized I couldn't avoid the conversation. He already knew I was here, and yelling at him to go away would only be childish. I had to behave like an adult. And I realized suddenly that Cybele was right. I had to try and look at it from his side, to understand him so I could understand his reaction to my offer. And in order to do that, I had to actually talk to him.

I opened the door slowly. "What?" As he stood there, staring at me, I motioned for him to enter. Once he had, I shut the door behind him. Then we stood there, both uncomfortable.

"Since we last spoke..."

"I'm really sorry," I cut him off. "I realized what a bad idea it was when I was halfway through talking. I should have just stopped..."

"Well, you're..." he tried again.

"If you'd have let me..." I tried.

"I didn't understand at the time," Jerrym began again. "I hadn't put together..." his voice trailed off in a deep sigh. Wonderful. It looked like I wasn't the only one had trouble explaining my feelings for him.

"And now you've talked to Samuel and he's made it all crystal clear." I couldn't keep the bite out of my voice. I was miserable. I should have just said it. They were right. But the time was past, and I had already made the mistake. It was impossible to unmake it. Would the rejection then really have been all that worse than this horrible conversation?

Jerrym sighed again. "He and Artor pointed out to me what I already knew... and I only wonder why you didn't tell me yourself."

For someone who already knew, he had done a damned good job of ignoring it.

"Because I was watching the look on your face, and I just couldn't deal with being shot down again." I meant to snap, but it came out soft and sad instead. "At that point, all I could think was that you would laugh, or something worse." My voice dropped even smaller. "I was already embarassed enough."

There was a moment's pause, then he sighed again. Wonderful. I was getting more emotion out of Jerrym than I had ever seen before.. and none of it was good.

"It was suggested that I be honest with you about this," he said calmly, "so that's what I'm going to attempt to do."

"Oh God." Honesty. That was the last thing I needed right then. "Maybe you could just give me the general idea."

"You need to come to the realization that I'm not going to feel toward you the way you feel toward me..."

I cut him off. "I already know that."

But he didn't stop. "...and you need to accept that and move on with your life."

"Fine." I snapped.

He fell silent then, uncertain what to do. And I sure as hell didn't want to say anything. Until I remembered my converation with Benedict. "Can I ask you to do something in return?"

"Certainly," he agreed.

"There's something you need to accept as well. It might make it so we can talk to each other civilly once in a while." I nearly bit my tongue on the barb, knowing that trying to cut him with words wasn't going to help right now. I tried to tone it down. "You need to accept the fact that whether I am or I'm not Benedict's daughter doesn't mean that you're anything any less to him."

He nodded, "Okay."

But I couldn't seem to stop talking. It was as if, since I couldn't talk about how I felt, the words were pouring out about something else. Like I had this desperate need to make him understand. "When everything started, I was just trying to be friends. I never wanted to get in your way. You were somebody that Benedict respects ... I thought I should too."

"But when did that..." he looked helpless. "I didn't try to encourage anything past that."

"You didn't even try to encourage that," I said flatly.

"Indeed."

"I have no idea." I shrugged. "If I could figure out why I feel the way I do..." I sighed. "Believe me, I don't think I should." And Ardath, you *know* how miserable I've been, how hard I've tried to figure this out. How I've wished it could be simpler than this. I tried to explain it to him, as best I could. "Its just something that I realized one day, and from that point on, I just started getting worse."

"It certainly explains many of the things that have gone on between us these past months."

At Jerrym's words, I suddenly had a very vivid recollection of some of those things. Of Cybele's ball. Of the night in Tir. Of my following him as Remy. Jerrym was blind and everyone else in the world thought I wore my heart on my sleeve. Personally, I think I was making an ass of myself. And sad to say, I don't think I could have acted any other way. But to Jerrym, I just said, "Yeah, probably does."

There was a silence then, not so uncomfortable as before, but still not entirely pleasant. I felt I had to try to explain. "I really was just trying to help you. That's all I've been trying to do. I guess I was just going about it pretty badly. And I don't think it would have helped anything if I'd turned around and said how I felt." I risked a glance at him. "Do you?"

"Rather than expect that I would at some point realize it, that would have been a good idea, yes," he said dryly. "In case you hadn't noticed, social skills are not one of my top priorities."

Nor mine, apparently. You'd think that with all the training I had learning ettiquette back home, I'd have been able to handle this situation better. But I'd also learned how to deal with men who understood the rules. And Jerrym definitely didn't.

"Why would I tell you if I knew that you didn't... care..." I hiccuped on the last word. "It couldn't be an important issue if it wasn't returned,so therefore I might as well try and pretend it wasn't, and do what I could to try and..."

"Feel rejected at every turn," Jerrym supplied.

"No," I sounded strangled.

"That's how you acted."

I looked away. "It wasn't intended. I was more ... frustrated ... that you were pushing everything away, even things that were just good faith offered." Everything I tried, Ardath. I just tried to be good, to be nice, and he kept pushing it all away. I know how the puppy that gets kicked feels.

There was a long silence while he fought to find the words. "I think that your feelings toward me clouded your judgement. In every situation I always strive to choose the person best suited to the job, not those who are most willing to help." His voice was low, and calm.

"Finding out in Tir what you really thought of me was awful," I went on trying to explain how it had all happened, how it had all come about. How tangled the mess really was. "The fact that you could even believe that that was the way I really behaved... that that was what Sebastian had done to me." I shook my head, remembering the fury when he had treated the way my room was as normal. Treated me like I really was whore, and he didn't even care about it.

"And then when we came down and you made it sound like you actually cared that it didn't happen," I was dangerously close to tears again. It was one of my more confusing moments, that conversation outside of Tir, and Jerrym's response now didn't help.

"And I did care."

"Which was completely different than any other time." I swallowed hard. I wouldn't cry again. Not now. Not in front of him. I'd managed to avoid it so far.

"At least your interpretation of any other time," he tried to defend himself.

"How am I supposed to interpret the fact that you *teach* Moira, but you go out of your way to hurt me?" I yelled. "Two students. One you want to beat into the ground, and the other you want to actually learn from you. What am I supposed to think?"

He suddenly sounded defensive. "You were my first student, and you were forced upon me. It was not a situation I was familiar with, and I might have handled it badly."

"You learned pretty quickly when you got Moira."

There was another long silence, and during that silence I realize that he had almost made an apology, after a fashion. I was impressed, and pleased. At least until he started to speak again, and made it all worse.

"I suppose I had determined from the start that you were not a student who was worthy of my time," he began slowly. "You were forced into the situation and didn't choose of your own volition to come to me to ask me to teach you. Whereas Moira did. And even after seeing what I had done to you, she still came to me. And I suppose I felt some greater obligation to teach her."

I was incredulous. "Because I asked Benedict first, and then accepted his decision that you should teach me, I wasn't worthy?" I wondered, did he still hold that first missed practice, when I walked the Pattern and then slept through our normal practice time, against me?

"That is the way I saw it at the time, yes."

"You're not helping your case," I said dryly.

"I don't have a case to make," he defended himself. "I was supposed to be honest here, not make myself look good in any of these situations."

"I didn't expect you to make yourself look good," I muttered. Why should he impress me? Why should he even attempt to try to make me feel better. After all, I was the one at fault. His brutal honesty was only making me realize that even more.

I mulled it over for a long time. And I realized I didn't know what to do next. What to think, how to feel. Since I couldn't possibly be more embarassed than I already was, I decided to ask. "Its hard to act like an adult when I have no idea what the adult reaction to this is supposed to be." I felt helpless, confused. "Am I suppose to pretend it never happened? I can't just forget about it... any more than you can forget about her. There are too many mortifying scenes in my mind still." So clear, so simple. I could recall them all, and just thinking about it could bring the stain of a blush to my cheeks. I shook my head. No matter what he said, I couldn't possibly forget it had ever happened. "If you think I can forget about it, you just try forgetting that she ever existed," I muttered.

"I have never asked you to forget about it." His voice was almost gentle. Or maybe I was just adding things that weren't really there. Probably. Just like always.

I shook my head. "You just told me to forget about it and move on."

"No, I told you to move on," he corrected me. "You just have to get past it."

I could almost think he was being sympathetic. Understanding how hard it is to forget that you love someone. How hard it is to give that someone up and realize that you will never have them. I couldn't allow it. I couldn't let myself believe it because it is just so much easier to think that he hates me. So much simpler to not even try to understand that strange grey are bewteen us. "Fine," I muttered. "Consider it done."

"Very well." He took advantage of it and left then, closing the door behind him.

And I sat and thought. Leaving would be good. Perhaps, after dinner. I glanced around me and realized that I could still make it to dinner in the hall if I wanted to. I could stop hiding here and get past it, just like he suggested. With a slight smile on my face, I began to change for dinner.

I'll never exactly be over it, Ardath. I'm not sure I can stop loving him. Given the chance, I would still do what I can to help him, to make him happy. A part of me hates that about myself. Wishes I could stop it, but I can't seem to.

But I *can* get past it. I can understand that no matter what I wish on, nothing's going to change. He still loves Rhiannon, and I think even if it weren't for her, he would never love me. Maybe I understand him a bit more now. Scary, isn't it?

Its time for me to head out into shadow a bit. Time for a break. But I don't want to run away. I'm going to ask Benedict to contact me for dinner each evening, if he wouldn't mind, so that I can keep contact with Amber. I haven't decided where I am going to go yet -- perhaps just exploring. Maybe spend some more evenings in Tir, studying. I'm beginning to understand it a bit even.

Thanks for listening Ardath. Hopefully someday you'll get to read this.

Love,

Adrienne