Part of it, Tasha was certain, was how Hal had behaved in the past. She didn't need to be telepathic to realize that Hal's feelings for her were more than just friendly. Even before the time that she'd found herself drawn to his dream she'd had a bit of a clue. Just a bit. He only followed her steps doggedly, always asking if there was anything that he could do, or if she needed or wanted someone taken away for her.
During that whole time Tasha'd had no idea whether she was to feel flattered by his affection or smothered by his concerns. No matter what she did, he happened to be there. No matter what she wanted, he would appear and offer to do it for her. Tasha sighed heavily, frustrated and sick of feeling shadowed by the big goon.
Well, that's not completely fair to Hal, she thought. It's not as if she couldn't ask him to leave her alone, for he would. And never would he complain if she got fed up and snapped at him for no reason. He was very good at dealing with such outbursts, likely from his military training.
But now Hal barely even looks at me. Since he nearly drowned after the adventure on the Dirgin’s Pride it seemed like Hal was trying to draw away. Like he was now nervous to even have a conversation with her. And to Tasha, that didn't make any sense at all. Sure, in the past our conversations had been rather one-sided, but at least we talked.
But, no. Since the incidents that had happened on the voyage across the Inner Sea, Hal had all practically avoided her. Every time that she started trying to speak with him about, and there were a great many things that Tasha wanted to keep him in the loop about, he would mumble and look away and skirt the issue until she finally got fed up and left him alone.
So what’s the problem?
Isn’t this what I wanted? For months, Tasha had wanted little else than for Hal to get over his fascination with her and just be her friend without being so overbearing.
But now that Hal’s attentions seemed distracted by Renora, Tasha had begun to feel... lonely. Was that possible? He hadn't gone anywhere but he had. Hal didn't talk to her as much as he used to or anything. He had stopped... being Hal.
And she missed him.
Tasha realized how selfish that sounded and then forcibly shoved the thought from her mind. Who was she to be even remotely upset because Hal had found someone who cared about him enough to forget her? What was she, some sort of child who was whining because no one would pay attention to her?
She shook her head firmly once and ran her fingers through her hair. Then she shuddered and fluttered out her hands, trying to rid the dirty feeling from them. It had been so long that she'd had a proper bath that her scalp was actually beginning to itch irritably. Tasha couldn't understand how easily the others were able to deal with it. She felt filthy all over that no amount of scrubbing with snow or swimming in an ice covered river could cure. Her clothes still were stained from the blood of the people she'd killed and even her sword was beginning to rust in places (Sir Terius claimed that to be the result of a lack of proper cleaning, but Tasha been diligently oiling her blade every night.)
So as the party finally came upon the site of her first vision; as Tasha mentally struggled with the obscure feelings that she was having; as everyone looked forward to getting a hot meal and a long week's rest in; all that Tasha could think of was how badly she wanted a bath.