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Feb. 8th, 2005 07:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lastgunslingerRoland sits on his bed and hugs his knees to his chest.
He'd half expected another nightmare last night for trying to help Eddie, but his dreams were no worse than the usual, these last days. He is grateful, for there are other things to think about.
His left knee protests; he unbends it and rests his chin on his still-bent right knee. The thought to have his left knee healed has never occurred to him, despite allowing Moiraine to heal his hand. He gained the injury in a battle of honor, and to let it do anything other than heal in its own time would be dishonorable.
This sentiment, however, doesn't make Roland any less old.
The really good thing about Rosalita Munoz, reflects Roland, was that all she ever expected from him was that he do his job, and do it well. Other than that, she did what she could for him and his, and no more. Roland misses her -- for she has no stake in what goes on in the bar, no more so than anyone else. Around Rosalita, Roland could be tired and not fear the blinding concern expressed by his ka-tet. Rosalita, with her hunter's heart, could give aid and succor without any formal questions that needed answering.
He owes Susan, owes Cuthbert, owes Eddie and Susannah -- and Joe, and Moiraine, and Will Stanton. There is no one here to whom he is close that he is not indebted to in some way.
Not even Jake.
His arms tighten around his knee and he closes his eyes. He wants to ask Will to check on him, but with the Lord of Nightmares around, Roland hasn't been able to speak to Will, or Moiraine. Roland is worried. Jake has been unconscious for too long. Something needs to be done, and soon -- or perhaps Jake may never wake at all.
More than anything, though, Roland Deschain just wants to sleep a night untroubled by nightmares.
He'd half expected another nightmare last night for trying to help Eddie, but his dreams were no worse than the usual, these last days. He is grateful, for there are other things to think about.
His left knee protests; he unbends it and rests his chin on his still-bent right knee. The thought to have his left knee healed has never occurred to him, despite allowing Moiraine to heal his hand. He gained the injury in a battle of honor, and to let it do anything other than heal in its own time would be dishonorable.
This sentiment, however, doesn't make Roland any less old.
The really good thing about Rosalita Munoz, reflects Roland, was that all she ever expected from him was that he do his job, and do it well. Other than that, she did what she could for him and his, and no more. Roland misses her -- for she has no stake in what goes on in the bar, no more so than anyone else. Around Rosalita, Roland could be tired and not fear the blinding concern expressed by his ka-tet. Rosalita, with her hunter's heart, could give aid and succor without any formal questions that needed answering.
He owes Susan, owes Cuthbert, owes Eddie and Susannah -- and Joe, and Moiraine, and Will Stanton. There is no one here to whom he is close that he is not indebted to in some way.
Not even Jake.
His arms tighten around his knee and he closes his eyes. He wants to ask Will to check on him, but with the Lord of Nightmares around, Roland hasn't been able to speak to Will, or Moiraine. Roland is worried. Jake has been unconscious for too long. Something needs to be done, and soon -- or perhaps Jake may never wake at all.
More than anything, though, Roland Deschain just wants to sleep a night untroubled by nightmares.
