Yes two weeks gone. Two weeks far longer then any other time she’d sought to leave his side. It was in that, that he knew something was amiss without having to even feel her to know such. Never before had she acted in such ways, never before had she so directly gone out of her way to keep him not at her side. He knew the moment that all of this was even uttered that something was very wrong. Yet still she sought to treat him like he was little more then a fool. Dismissing him and his inquires. Proving that his concerns meant nothing and her mind was set. Yes she had reminded him of his place and he knew she’d do so again.
But if she believed such actions would silence him forever she was wrong. He had kept silent for centuries when she threw in his face that he was nothing but a slave to her when she wished it. The ability to bite the tongue and swallow his pride had begun to wane. How in her bitterness she wished to act as though he should give more then servitude and yet when it benefited her, that is all she desired. Her will. Her ways. Her wants. The gargoyles own eternally meant nothing.
He felt her as she neared. Her presence stronger within his mind. She knew his tension. She knew his displeasure still for all that had come to pass. He’d not even seek to hide it, what cause did he have to? He was not seeking to appease her every whim. He’d not push his own emotions aside simply to make her return easier upon her. If she wanted him to be happy in the return she would not have cast him aside in the manner she had. She knew what a slap to the face it was. What a disgrace it was to his honor.
She knew yet did so time and time again and yet wondered why disdain was felt. Why there was not something more, something else.
Yes he felt her near to him, felt that reach out and that draw away. Good. Lips nearly wished to curl in a sneer for all the reasons why she’d draw away from him. Why she’d not wish to face him. She should feel shame. Should feel guilt. Yet none of it would be enough to match that shame she’d instilled in the gargoyle. That shame thrust upon him by treating him in the manners she did. Shame that made him unable to look family in the eyes.
But no sneer curled the lips. No anger lashed out. Diarmad perched as a statue would, waiting for her to leave the car and approach. He knew the manner in which she would, he’d seen her do so before. Eyes simply stayed trained on the car in the distance, watching her through tinted windows that veiled her form.
There was no movement as he followed the path of her mist form across the expanse to near to the castle. No reaction was even given as she wrapped herself around him, seeking an embrace the gargoyle would not give. Yes he was glad that she had returned in one piece but there was no joy in his eyes. She knew why there was not. Her careless dismissal of it would not dismiss it for the gargoyle.
His head turned, his large wings shifting at his back but he did not fully yet give up his perch as she reformed to the balcony. “Welcome home mistress.”