Day 3, late evening
“And you as well, my dear,” Fandral replied to the beautiful red haired woman, lifting her hand to press his lips to her knuckles. She fawned a little and rolled her eyes, shoving at his shoulder playfully to push him through the doorway.
He stumbled backward out into the street but kept his footing, chuckling as he bowed at the waist in a final, perhaps over-the-top farewell. He’d spent the majority of his evening in her company, having met her in a nearby tavern and charmed his way right into her bed, as he was wont to do. There was no doubt about what they both wanted and after fulfilling both of their physical needs, she’d literally pushed him from her room with the intention of never seeing him again.
At least she was bound to get her wish in that regard.
Turning on a heel, he felt the grin that was on his face slowly fall and his eyebrows furrowed together as he wrapped his rust coloured cloak around himself against the cold breeze that came off of the water. Carnal desires had been met, but Fandral was feeling something he wasn’t accustomed to in the aftermath of such meetings. There was no satisfaction to be found in his actions, no meaning, something else entirely left unfulfilled.
The woman had been beautiful, kind -- she made him laugh and he discovered rather quickly what her more sensitive spots were, but there hadn’t been anything… real. Which was to be expected from falling into bed with a woman whose name you didn’t even know. That was always the case. It was always about the sex and nothing more.
Did he want more?
(Yes.)
Was he finding that the meaninglessness behind these sorts of rendezvous were growing tiresome?
(Yes.)
Was he trying to bury his affections for another under layers of sexual desire that never quite seemed to scratch the itch he was feeling?
(Yes.)
Fandral shivered a little when a gust of wind kicked up around him, ducking his head as he made his way back closer toward the docks, toward the ship. He wasn’t certain what to do with the feelings he had coming away from his encounter with the red haired woman, but he did know he could have used more of the ale from the tavern to help him forget. What, exactly? Ah, that wasn’t something he’d quite come to terms with enough to know the answer to.