Adrissu wasn’t sure how to respond, but at that moment their food arrived, so he was able to avoid commenting on the topic. Just as Pollux seemed unsure of what to make of him, so, too, Adrissu was uncertain exactly what to think about Pollux. He was never sure what to expect of his mate—he had learned that lesson with Kian—but this iteration was different enough from the others that it felt like meeting someone entirely new this time.
They ate quietly, neither brave enough to start the conversation back up again. The food was decent, but Adrissu mostly just picked at his meal as he thought everything over and considered how to respond going forward. When it looked like Pollux was nearly done with his own meal, Adrissu ventured,
“I appreciate you coming to talk with me today. I understand if that’s too much all at once, though, so we don’t have to meet again like this if you don’t want to.”
Pollux eyed him suspiciously; but after a beat, his expression became almost relieved, which was a disappointment and a relief to Adrissu all at once.
“I think some space would be good,” the elf replied, his tone forcibly mild. “So I can... think about all this and sort out what I should do.”
“What you should do? What do you mean?”
“About the weapon, mostly. Should I really be so involved, knowing who you are? I thought I was doing good, but now I’m less certain.”
“I see,” Adrissu replied, frowning. “I don’t want to influence you too much one way or the other, but if you were to ask me... The prospect of it is unsettling at best, yes. I understand your desire to protect your home, though, so don’t let my thoughts color your actions.”
Pollux nodded, but his expression had become tense once again.
“I’ll always be in Polimnos if you do want to meet again,” Adrissu continued. “I’ll give you your space and time to think, but you can always reach me. Always. Could I maybe... write you a letter occasionally, perhaps?” Pollux was silent for a long moment, long enough that Adrissu added nervously, “It’s alright if you don’t want me to contact you. Really, I think I understand. I’m sorry I asked.”
“No, it’s fine,” the elf interrupted, still frowning. “You may write me a letter. Here.”
He reached into the inner pocket of his robes and pulled out a slip of thick parchment, whereBlackthorn Enchantmentswas printed in bold type with the workshop’s address in a smaller font beneath it. “If you address it to me, I’ll get it.”
Adrissu hesitated—writing a letter to Pollux at his business address felt disingenuous; but if that was what Pollux wanted to give him, he supposed he should be grateful to have that at all. He took the paper and pocketed it.
“Thank you,” he said softly. This time Pollux’s golden gaze met his and softened, almost imperceptibly, but enough to make Adrissu’s heartbeat stumble. “Pollux, if there is anything I can do to... to help you, or... I don’t know. I understand space and time will help you sort out your feelings, but it pains me to know that you’re struggling and that I can’t help.”
Pollux frowned, though his expression was less cold than before. “I am not struggling.”
“Well… You know what I mean.”
“Yes,” Pollux sighed. “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t know if you can help me at all. I don’t know that you should. I remember being angry at you before, and I remember being... very fond of you. I would just need to remember how I got there, I think.”
“Yes. That makes sense,” Adrissu said, heartened.
They spoke for a little while longer, but when the waiter brought the check, Adrissu paid and Pollux stood, seemingly ready to go in an instant.
“Thank you for dinner,” he said, sounding stiff all over again. “I’ll look forward to your letter.”
“Oh—yes, of course,” Adrissu managed, sounding utterly like a besotted fool as Pollux smirked and turned to go. What kind of bumbling idiot had he become? He could not recall being so easily flustered in his mate’s past lives; something about Pollux took him entirely off-guard compared to the others.
He quietly left Wintergrove much later that evening, when the sun had been down for several hours and the clouds blocked out most of the moon’s light. Even though, objectively, his meeting with Pollux had gone considerably worse than any other first encounter with his mate’s past lives, the flight was tinged with the pleasure of knowing that he was here and alive. Even if they were apart now, Adrissu knew he wasn’t alone. That was worth something, at least.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Notwantingtoappearoverly invested, Adrissu managed to wait a day after returning to Polimnos before writing a letter to Pollux. But when he finally sat down in his study with Vesper curled across his lap, he stared down at the blank parchment for a long while, unsure of how to start. He wanted to stay in contact with Pollux, of course, but what was there to say?
Eventually, he decided to simply tell Pollux about what he had been up to in the years between Kian’s death and their meeting in Wintergrove. He wrote about his sabbatical, during which he had studied everything that he could find about the mortal understanding of dragons, partly for his own amusement and partly out of concern for his own safety—omitting his various encounters with Daiana and Kipp, though he was sure that Pollux had puzzled out his involvement in their deaths. He described how Alana Pughes had become Lord Representative, the improvements her inventions had brought to Polimnos and beyond, and how he had tried to implement them as much as possible through the school’s curriculum and methodology. He recounted his months spent studying under Dirge Petkas, the half-orc druid, and how he had created the healing track at the Academy almost entirely from scratch based on what he had learned. Last among his accomplishments, he confessed in delicate terms how he had compiled and refined Kian’s research on human transmutation to publish and disseminate their work, so that other transmutation specialists might study and build upon it.
He had done little interesting work in more recent years, so instead he described how strange it was to watch Ned and Eris grow old and their daughters become full-fledged adults. It should not have made him feel any sort of way anymore, but the two were the closest thing he’d had to friends in something like a century, so it was hard to ignore the fondness that he had for them and their family. It seemed silly when he wrote it down, but he thought maybe Pollux would like to see that side of him—that it would make him seem less like a shadowy figure he only knew from dreams and memories, and more like a regular person.
He asked Pollux what he had been up to, what sorts of things he liked to do in his free time, and other idle questions he hadn’t been able to ask in their two brief meetings. It all seemed inadequate, but what else was he to do?
When he couldn’t think of anything else to write, he folded up the parchment, sealed it in wax, and took it to the local courier’s office to have it sent to Pollux in Wintergrove.
A week passed, and Adrissu still had no response, which he supposed he should have expected. He busied himself with preparing the curriculum for the next term, meeting with his instructors to ensure that they were prepared, and going over their proposed lesson plans and student rosters. Another week passed before he wrote a second letter, this one much shorter and more casual, recounting what he’d been up to and wishing Pollux well.
Being so far from him, now that they had met, was misery. But there was nothing he could do but wait it out and hope Pollux decided he wanted to see him again sometime soon. He wouldn’t force the matter; letting Pollux come to him in his own time was surely the safest option. Letters seemed unobtrusive enough—something to keep them connected, while allowing Pollux to interact with him on his own terms—but Adrissu felt a small sting of disappointment with each passing day that the courier did not bring him a reply.
