He was restless. Not one wink of sleep and still restless. His chattering mind should have exhausted itself by now. But here he was, just hinting at dawn, and as wide awake as he'd been when he'd slipped into bed. He should have known trying to sleep would be futile. Five nights of the same thing. Probability would have told him the result. He should have just wandered the garden all night. It would have been better.
He flopped his head up. Stared at shadows contrasting against the sky. It was just the silhouette of leaves and branches against the brightening back drop. They rustled with the wind. He pulled both his jacket and blanket tighter around his shoulders. Hugging his knees, he slumped against the tree trunk.
His brain was still clogged with thoughts. It's ever repeating cycle playing voices in his ears.
Champion. Shepherd. Lovers. Bride.
It was a mantra.
A mantra that prevented him from effectively participating in his designated sessions. Never before did they feel so overwhelming. Every day was a struggle to push through. To pay attention. To respond. To problem solve. His proposals fumbled from his lips. He could barely deliver his ideas. Couldn't convincingly sell his solutions to the councilmen. It was hard to be clear when brain storming over maps for trade routes.
All the while, he was bombarded with words of congratulations, advice, and evaluation. He'd been scrutinized while simultaneously being elevated as if he were a god. The vision instantly shoved him into a spotlight while simultaneously stealing his humanity from him. Disconnected from those around him. Now he existed on a different plane. An elevated one.
He didn't want it. Didn't want any of it. Destiny couldn't contain him. He was going to disregard it. It was just made up superstition. Lady Fate could keep her destiny. She'd have to find someone else. He wouldn't do it.
Same with Elder Willowheart. His mate wasn't going to be decided for him. He'd fall in love when he wanted and with whom he wanted. He wasn't going to fall for an elf. An elf wasn't a good choice. Too much logic and not enough emotion. A human female would be better. He'd find a good woman and settle down into obscurity. Hide away in her arms and live the rest of his life in her perfect company. Turn into a hermit and ignore the world.
With one last sigh, he dropped his chin to his chest. Closed his eyes. Willed himself to try to catch some sort of sleep. Physical exhaustion was crying out. But his brain was ignoring it. Forced him to become a walking vessel. Empty of a soul. He wondered when sleep deprivation would win out.
The sound of crunching footsteps cut through the quiet garden. It grew. At times it paused. He kept tabs as it drew closer. He didn't have energy to care who it was. As they came upon him, he didn't bother to look up. A long sigh gave away the identity of his visitor anyways.
“I figured I'd find you here.” Reginald's voice was compassionate for once.
More crunching and a grunt. He felt him bump against his shoulder as he sat beside him. Silence again as they sat there together. He could hear him softly breathing between breezes.
“Did you sleep?” Reginald quietly asked at last.
“No.” He grunted.
“Insomnia again?”
“Yes.”
A long sigh.
“Have you even tried any of the soothing remedies mother suggested?”
“No…” He admitted in guilt.
“Come now, John. You need rest. You've looked like a ghost all week. You should at least try. There's an excellent elvish calming tea the head chef has on hand. I'm sure that it'll help.”
He grumbled an incoherent response.
“Speaking of elves, you never told me about your conversation with Elder Willowheart. Did you actually go to her quarters?”
His jaw tensed. He didn't respond.
“Did the cowardly lion have a fright from his own tail?” Reginald gently teased.
He groaned.
“I went.” He mumbled.
“Ah, not as fickle as I thought. What did you find out?”
“It wasn't anything of importance.”
“What do you mean? She wasn't having visions of you?”
He let out a breath before he lifted his head. He stared off into the garden.
“I don't feel like discussing it.” He sighed.
He heard movement. Reginald's face appeared in the twilight. The lack of light didn't hide his face of worry. Very rarely did he see that expression. Unevenly up turned brows with searching eyes. His lips were thinned.
“Was it something bad?” His whisper was almost urgent.
He looked him over for a moment.
“It was neither good nor bad.” He slowly replied.
“As in?”
“The visions were nothing to do with the war.”
“Where they of you?”
“Yes.”
“Then if they weren't of war, what were they about?”
He didn't want to say it. It felt like he would just be giving into destiny's trap.
“John,” He gently coaxed after his lack of response,“Don't you trust me enough to confide in me?”
That made him feel guilty. Reginald was trustworthy, but having it out in the open felt uncomfortable. He didn't like feeling so exposed on top of everything else.
“Elder Willowheart will be my lover and my wife.” He quietly divulged.
Reginald jerked his head back. Then snorted as his face changed to disbelief. A half grin appeared on his lips.
“By the gods, John. Being ridiculous is my job. I didn't realize you still had energy enough to try to be funny. Now, tell me the truth. What did she really see?” Reginald playfully huffed.
He heaved another deep sigh. There wasn't enough energy left to be irritated with him. Instead he pressed on. It was too late to turn back.
“She saw herself welcoming me home from war, doing something with me at a market on her home island, and…,” he cleared his throat, “Having sexual intimacies in my bed…”
Reginald's face gradually dropped into the seriousness it had been before. He held his stare. Trying to communicate with a look of how defeated he felt.
“Bloody Hades…you're serious…” Reginald finally mumbled.
He weakly nodded. With a shift he leaned forward and crossed his legs. Resting his elbows on his thighs, he held his face in his hands. The words that had been rattling around in his head came spewing out like a flood.
“I don't know what to think. I don't like having the free will to chose who I'll court and love taken from me. Especially when it's on top of a responsibility that I didn't ask for. It's like my life is already decided. I can't be free to live as I please. I'm shackled to this…timeline. It will always loom over my head. Every small action, whether thoughtless or purposeful, will lead me to this outcome.”
He paused to release another heavy sigh.
“I'm a prisoner to the future.” He croaked into his hands.
A firm grip of a hand to his shoulder. It provided no comfort.
“Lady Fate, rest my soul.” Reginald muttered.
“All within a day I find that I'm going to be the peace maker in a grand war and that I will take an elf as my mate. I can't grasp it all. I don't want to address it.”
“I don't blame you.” He replied in sympathy.
“I just want to bury myself into the ground.”
“Again, I don't blame you.”
He filled his lungs deep, held his breath, and then tried to exhale the despair in his soul.
“I wish I was a commoner. Oblivious to the world and it's ever growing problems.”
“Don't we all. Royalty is a wench.”
He released an groan. Reginald remained silent.
“But I've decided that I can't do it, Reggie. I won't.” He mumbled.
“But you just said…?”
“I don't care. Destiny be damned. Lady Fate didn't ask me for my opinion.”
“John, you can't just dismiss fate.”
“Yes I can. I reject it entirely. Let the clan burn to ash and Elder Willowheart die alone for all I care.” He muttered.
A squeeze on his shoulder.
“I know you don't mean that.” Reginald's tone was gentle.
“I certainly do.”
“You care too much. You always have. Maybe that's why Lady Fate chose you. And you can't live alone forever. An elf for a wife doesn't seem so bad. At least she's gorgeous.”
He huffed a grunt.
“Curse the day I was born.” He sighed.
Another gentle squeeze. As he wallowed in self pity, soft chirping of birds began to permeate the morning air. Their beautiful singing did nothing to lighten his spirits. It only made his gut and heart fall further. He didn't want to face the day. All he wanted was let the dark of night to consume him.
“How about you take a break from all this vision nonsense and go get breakfast. I'm sure Ortez has some creamed wheat lying about. Why not have a bowl of your favorite breakfast to cheer you up and a nice cup of tea, hm?”
The hand left his shoulder. Shuffling as he listened to him get to his feet. Crunching of boots stopped directly in front of him. He wrestled with his offer. There was effort involved that he didn't want to expend. But his stomach had heard his words. He'd barely eaten anything last evening. A hungry pit demanded to be fed.
With a long breath, he convinced himself it was time to get up.