Legends of Belariath

Morrigan Aensland

"What's One More Night?"

Excerpt from Morriganís journal

Iím starting to wonder why I stay in this place. ...I know that Giselle and Beatrix are the main reason I stay..but who said that I couldnít bring the two of them with me and depart this place.? I am very little more than just another face in the crowd where most are concerned now. I am just someone that most of the people that come to the Inn can say only vaguely know me. ...Save for maybe Shaka, Ehlanna, and Story. ....They know me well. Shaka and Ehlanna because I work for them. ...Or at least I did. Iím not sure if I do still at the moment. And Story because...well. ..Because of what we shared.

We had a special moment that night, when I kissed him. It didnít develop into anything more than that..but that kiss was sweet, and it was pure, and it was burning with passion. And just when I thought I could leave, I felt that kiss again..felt the burning passion within it. Felt the desire. And I succumbed. I relented in my decision to leave the Inn and return home. And here I am, once again, sitting here in this room thatís only barely mine. As much as I hate the place, I have to say Iím getting a bit homesick.

But I know why I stay here. ..I stay here because of -him-. Because of Story. I stay here because I care with all my soul for him. I want to give him my love, my body...everything of myself. ..But he refuses to take it. He only seems to humor me for one moment, and when I turn my back heís in the arms of another woman. Why do I put up with it? Why do I tolerate it? Why donít I just cast him away and walk off out of his life like I was so ready to do that other day?

I donít really know. ...I guess Iím just weak and stupid. Iím in love with a man who canít and wonít return it to me. I donít want to have to share him with whatever woman feels she needs to follow him around like some lost puppy. I donít want to have to be second-rate to one of the women he has chosen to ďprotectĒ. ...Yes, protect them he certainly does. I guess I sound a little bitter. Maybe itís because that kiss we shared that first night was something I had thought at the time would be the beginning of something between us. Oh, and it was, make no mistake...but not what youíd expect.

It was the beginning of more pain, for me, when I came to see him kissing another woman, holding her close. The kiss wasnít much of anything...but nevertheless, it was a kiss, and if she had been any closer to him, she would have melded into him. I donít really know why I waste my time bemoaning a man who told me himself that he canít share the love I have for him...not totally, anyhow. But it seems whenever I turn my back, heís with another. I should leave. I should pack my things and leave, and take Giselle and Beatrix with me. I should just leave and not think twice about it. ....But everytime I try, I always come back. ...Come back to this place. Come back to him. ...Come back to the pain. I donít understand why I do it, or why I let myself be hurt the way I do. ..I guess some twisted, strange part inside of me likes the pain...enjoys the feeling of a broken heart. ..But I donít really know, to tell the truth. All I know is that I continue to set myself up for more anguish, and everytime I never seem to learn from the mistake.

But I do love him. ..I care for Story so deeply that I canít express it in words. All I can do is just tell him how I feel about him and try to show him with my body. But that doesnít seem to work. ..I canít seem to get him to want to be only with me. He tells me that he canít give himself to me totally..and thatís what hurts the most. I -want- him to give himself to me, completely. After all, I have given -myself- to him completely. And therein lies the pain I speak of.

A love for him that cannot be returned the way I wish for it to be. I have to sit here in this room every night without him. I have to sit here and torment myself with thoughts of him spending the night in some other womanís arms..making love to her and treating her the way I wish he would treat -me-. I donít think that shall ever come to pass, though. And so here I end this writing, because I am tired. I havenít been feeling well at all lately. I choke in the middle of the night and wake up feeling that strange burning sensation in my chest and throat...then I cough and my hand always comes away stained in blood.

I know something is wrong with me...but I donít know what it is. ...I feel feverish and sick and I donít have any energy anymore. But Iíll be all right. Iíve suffered through worse things. Now I set down my pen to lay myself in my bed, alone once more for another night. ....But...whatís one more night? Just another night I have to lay alone without him next to me. Just another night where I have to cry myself to sleep because I want him to be with me. ...Just another night I start to hate him, but end up staining my pillow with my tears. ...Just another night.Ē