::Wakes up with a start, having fallen asleep at his desk, just a simple nodding off in what should've been a light midday doze, but wakes up in a pool of his own sweat, face ashen::
Can't shake this fatigue it seems, and just as when I was little, I hear the faintest noises when I'm so spent. Could have sworn I heard my mother's voice, but that was surely the dream I've just arisen from. Had to be. There are no such things as ghosts.
"Untrue to them all and disloyal to yourself" I heard her mock me, the smarminess she could muster in her face, finger wagging at me.
When I went to grab the finger, to deflect it, not to hurt Mother although she could hurt at random and at will, she burst into flames, searing me as well...A mother's love, a mother's rage.
Bah, I am reading far too much into it. Was likely that half-arsed dinner of last eve, picking at leftovers in the kitchen. I should indeed look after myself. Am maintaining my weight and tone but just don't feel right. Not right at all.
These women are chipping away at my sanity. I should not have struck Jane, I swore I never would have. I've not seen her much..when I rise to leave the study, I see her shadow pass quickly. She's avoiding me, and I blame her not. I'm not easy to be with, that I know. But damn her, never have I felt so....threatened... she said she would leave me. I've stared down enemies, I've stared into the face of death...but never did I feel such a cold rush down my spine.
And from the corners of my mind, Mother spoke in a whisper.
Vixen...how long have we been involved now..at least a few years. Long before Christopher's birth. Even before marrying Kate. That's right ::Puts it in order for himself:: Mirell..Kharalyn..Kate..Lily...Jane. Vixen was after Mirell and around the same time as Khara, on and off. A part of my life regularly when Kate came along, that's right. It has been ages. And she's beautiful. Surely I owe her more than I give her..but Vixen would not put up with my nonsense on a regular basis.
Would she?
::His thoughts trail off:: Had her in my arms, just a nice moment at the dome the other night, and everything felt right, to the point where I could rest.
And again I heard Mother speak..
Jasmin. With but an apology you could return to me, yet your defiance oozes through your pores. I've had the houseboy crate your things, for they are meaningless fabrics and gems that have no life without you in them. All I ever asked for was your trust. You never fully gave me your gift of submission. You must have deemed me unworthy..and now you sell your body. That doesn't anger me, but it disappoints me greatly. A second chance would likely be yours for the asking, but there are no guarantees.
And the Matriarch whispered to me again.
Teiyah...how I care about you and in the same breath I loathe you. I see myself in you. And unlike the other women..who each possess traits I only wish I had..you are far too much like me. If I fell asleep in your bed, I'd likely awaken to my phallus nailed to your wall, detached from my body. Flaunting your pendant, the one I snatched off of your neck...::Growls under his breath and says no more::
And even with you..I heard my mother's voice.
Axalon..Alianna...my blood. How you show your disdain for me, brother. Sister, you do not fully understand why I've done what I've been able to protect you. You are not weak of mind, you should know that I've done what was needed. Now you have Benjamin and should thank me when you arise each morning...
...do you two hear Mother's voice on the wind?
Torlin. The one who looks at me with disgust, the one of whom is not blood yet I am calling Brother..do not judge, I ask you to be by my side as you were when we dug Mirell's grave and moved her body..that was brotherhood. Do not prove Mother's words right..
Always the same words, as if crashing on the shore and then washing away, but leaving their impression in my mind..
"Like me, you will die alone."
It's only fatigue, only a dream.
::As he sets his quill down, he reaches with his left hand for his bottle of rye..and notices a burn mark upon his palm. The bottle crashes to the floor and now unnerved, he rifles through his desk for some sleeping powder::
"Bah! I say! This is just fatigue manifesting itself!"
--Journal Entry, 21 May, Sir Carazzi.
::laughs as she shakes her head sitting at her desk flipping open the journal her mood obviously lighter then it has been in days::
I don't know what it is or why it is, but the men of this island seem to find me amusing. Nun how he looks at me. What he wants from me is obviously clear it's the same thing they all want. As if I have the words "virgin" tattoo'd on my forehead or something. Nun is obviously daft if he thinks he will ever touch me in anyway other then he does now. I don't ask for him to bandage me, I don't want his dirty little hands on me. Sure I kissed him just to give him something to remember me by, and he does indeed remember it.
::she laughs more still shaking her head::
Who knows maybe I will just give in and be with someone. I don't know where ardsheal has gone, I thought he would leave and indeed it seems he has done just that. Not that we saw much of one another anyway, but I do miss him.
::sighs as her mood grows darker as her thoughts shift to the events of last night::
Zyllah, how she pushed me last night. I saw nothing but blind hatred when I learned she had mothers ring altered and it was indeed those rings that dan tossed into the fire that mag's was wearing around her neck. By birth right mothers ring should have been mine, no matter now it was destroyed to create something for zyllah and dan which is not meant to be. I gave the lump of silver back to mags so she can indeed remember. When Zyllah said she was to blame for our mothers death and her fathers death, I don't know what came over me. I would have never thought I would slap her, I wonder if she is bruised where I slapped her. If she indeed wants to join them in death I will set her on that path. I can not take it anymore, slowly all the pain within me is catching up to me. I can't stand to see her like that. I won't allow her to think that she was the reason mother died. She couldn't have done anything other then die herself had she been there. Doesn't she understand everything I have done has been for her? All these years trying to protect her trying to shield her...... doing everything I had to just so that we would prosper and survive.
::she sighs again and hunches over the desk writing still::
Mags blames herself for all of this, but it's not her fault and Zy's anger is misplaced. If anything she should be angry with Dan. But then again Dan was only following my standards, trying to shield her from his past, as he has seen me shield her. Hardly anyone knows of the death of our parents. No one knows all the people Zy has seen me fight or kill in our path to this island. Zy has not been shielded from what I do, no matter how desperately I have tried to keep it from her, she was always the one to tend to my wounds, the only one I would let close. My Gods what have I done to my sister. She is turning out to be just like me and there is nothing I can do to alter it. I truly have failed her, I see it clearly now and if our parents were still with us, I would surely have been banished from her long ago.
::she sets the quill down and crosses her arms on the desk laying her head on them after brushing the journal aside muttering under her breath::
"I meant not to fail you Zy, I meant not to slap you... gods what have I done."
--Journal Entry, 21 May, Teiyah.
::He awakes, sliping out the bed, seeing Rowsy lying there, he smiles, until once more he remembers once more. He goes throughout the day, hiding almost, at his cliff in the forest, very exhausted from the hike there. :
Sansa, dear sister, Once more you invade my dreams turning guilt against me like a sharpened dagger. I wonder how you are. Content upon your throne, Bran should sit that throne sister not you.
: He frowns in remorse as he turns back to his journal :
Bran shouldn't of died. I should have. Even seeing the grand guild hall being built. And a shop idea becoming realized though slowly. Silver Shipwrights...Ha. Me building ships, whoever knew that my time with Theon Greyjoy would make good use. He was a good shipwright indeed though. Well through all this I still realize I am not the man Bran was. Bran was a Knight of Winterfell. A knight of the Blizzard. Bran was the King of Winterfell, a skillful man, with promise. Me, I am the squire than ran away, when Stannis came to invade. Silver Lion, they would call me. In my silver breastplate, my silver greaves, my silver helm, it covering my face from there view, it was hilarious to see me, winning my battles fighting back Stannis, after I had already ran away one.
Claude Stark, the Silver Lion, ha. More like Claude Stark, the runaway. Why did the fates spare me, So I could live with the guilt? Will I die like father? Afraid, weak, and with all my ambition, dreams and goals...only to die helpless to the fates. Rowsy, she is so very wonderful, she holds my sanity together, but how long till I cause her death, or cause her pain. I am doomed. The curse will soon zero me in. Today, I woke in a cold sweat, seeing Bran once more die before me, Delia his wife, giving that blood curdling scream, along with Sansa. Arya Stark, came forth clenching to her brother Bran's body, as I, arrived one second to late, to enter the hall sword drawn, and see Donovan over my brothers body. How easily the crossbow bolt, pierce his neck, as he fell dead. Would that shot of saved Bran's life, if I had only ran a bit quicker, been a bit swifter. No one has saw me grieve, no not yet. Grieving is for women, and children. And as I should of saw so long ago, I am no child.
Lucas spoke to me about Bran last night, about how Bran went into grief when I disappeared, and also how Elizabeth and Arya felt. Elizabeth my sweetest cousin, and Arya my youngest sister, all only children when there brother, made it over the south wall, and ran to his freedom. Lucas didn't wish to tell me this, but I asked. I wondered. I questioned. But I must realize it isn't my fault, thats what everyone says. Damnit. I can't forgive myself. My cowardice, My incompetence, ended my brother's life. For that, I cannot be forgiven. Lucas said he forgave me for it. Long ago, saying it was never my fault. But until I can forgive myself, no one is allowed.
: He stuffs his journal into his coat pocket and once again descend from the ledge, going down the side with quick leaps.
Journal Entry, 21 May, Claude Torrent.
So tell me, what is someone supposed to do with this thing we call love? I feel like someone's had a wonderful time stomping on my head. Every day, every minute, my stomach quakes when I think of Alterio. A chill runs down my spine. I'm afraid, like Ali's afraid, like everyone's afraid. Every time I think of Alterio now, I picture him with her, with *their* child, laughing and happy. And where does that leave me? Standing on the outside again, there to smile and console, and be coddled. I'm his permanent fixture, the one he has to take care of. I feel like damned useless! How can I be his wife if I'm not his lover? If I'm not the mother of his children? I don't even cook and clean! What does he need me for?
But he does need me. Only the gods have any idea why, but I saw it when I threatened to go and he snapped. But now I'm on the verge of snapping! I exercise with Ali, I swim, climb trees, I write and compose and learn the lute, I wander around, rearranging knickknacks. Hell, I even do needlework! Nothing can keep my mind away from those images, nothing.
Torlin and so many others say I should leave him. Can I do that? No, I can't. The threat was an empty one. I just see this great vulnerability in him, and I can't go. He loves me. I love him. I can't change him, but now I'm changing, and I HATE that. Sirrala can't even look at me anymore. I'm so restless, so discontented as Claude put it. I want to just pack up and go some days. I began to yesterday. I packed up everything I needed and headed out the door. Was halfway through booking passage when I broke down right there, in front of everyone. Someone was kind enough to lead me back to my horse. I'll never tell anyone about that.
So what a dilemma this is. Can't go, hurts to stay. Why should I put up with this? It's ludicrous! I'm a Maichen, and since when has any Maichen let anyone wrong them. Some days I just wish beyond wishing that Alterio would turn to Vixen, decide she was who he really wanted. But then I take it all back because this numbing dread fills me at the thought of not having him at all. I want to tear my hair out! He's just a man!
It's been suggested that I go find a lover of my own. My own private gigolo. I'm sorry, but I can't do that. That would go against everything I know. That's still some scrap of me that's still ME. I need it. So what now? Maybe one day I'll make it onto that ship...
Journal Entry, 21 May, Jane Maichen.