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mistral4543 · 08-07-2006, 08:56 AM

The second half of daylight spent, she led her horse to the stables of the inn they would be stopping over for the night. "You'll be safe here, Canna." The mare rubbed its snout against her hand affectionately, drawing a smile out of her mistress' weary lips. What a flirt. Acacia caressed the mane in return, instructing the stable lad to take good care of her companion.

Stepping inside the inn, she sat herself down at the table where the innkeeper's wife had prepared a bowl of hot soup and bread. Ravenously, she downed a spoonful of the soup, only to half-yelp as it scalded her throat. The sight of her spluttering and almost choking on her bread thereafter, brought much amusement to the other patrons. What do they know? She winced to herself. They'd do the same if they were as hungry and tired as I am.

When she had finally made it into her room, she took care to lock the door securely before sitting herself and removing her boots and socks. The bath would have to wait till the next day, for her eyelids were fast closing and yet the most important task of the day had yet to be completed...

It was the diary, of course, that she needed to read. My last link with my mother. My mother. How awfully distant it sounded. Her forehead creased with irritation. It's not as if I had a choice. To bar these useless laments from re-emerging, she extracted the bundle again. Then, flinging herself onto the bed, she leaned against the bedpost and read the next few entries:

February the 14th, 931

My two months are almost up, Tatyana. Anya sleeps peacefully beside me, unaware of the changes that are to come.

I am to leave the Freelight manor on March the 1st, heading for my final destination: The Temple of the Heironeous. There, I am to stay for the rest of my life in penitence. I do not know how I can live without Anya, who heads for a separate venue with Mother. But as I have sworn that I will do anything to let her live, so must I keep my word.

Anya lives if I abide my vow to Aragorn, Tatyana. If you have only that much to give, please pray for my daughter first. She is innocent.
-------------------

March the 20th, 931

It is worse than I had thought possible.

Every care is given for my physical well-being, but the walls that surround me blot out any rays of hope. My only consolation is that Anya is not here to suffer with me.
----------------------

August the 20th, 931

It is exactly five months since my last entry. Imagine my astonishment to receive Mother's letter today! It must be the miracle of Anya softening her heart; once she had wanted to disown me, but now she offers me only words of comfort.

Be patient and hopeful, her letter says. But I do not count on Aragorn's forgiveness. I know that temper and pride of his too well; he will never cave in. It is so difficult, Tatyana, to cling on to our happy childhood when I see this unyielding side of him. All his mind is filled with right now are family honour, that silly Shattered Reality of his, and that young Eilonwy he had met during the battle. The battle that killed my beloved Shane.

I tell myself I must not despair too much, but I wonder who, apart from Mother, would really care what became of me.
-------------------

December the 25th, 931

It is Christmas, and what would have been the second year of our wedding anniversary. What a novelty it is, to spend this day in this prison; for "temple" can only be an euphemism for what this place truly is.

Hush, Anneliese! I hear you cry; for you worry that the priests might chance upon this treacherous piece of writing I am scribbling down. Cease your crying, love. I hear you urge; but how can I stop, how long do you expect me to put on a placid face for these decrepit fools to see and believe? It is hard work pretending to be a full convert, but I seem to have persuaded them with a talent I never knew I possessed.

Nay, I must say my piece or go mad... or is insanity my escape valve? Fear not; I shall not go amok yet, not without receiving Mother's updates of Anya.
--------------

December the 26th, 946

Anya turns 16 today, Tatyana. I wonder what she looks like.
--------------

October the 29th, 949

I don't feel too well, Tatyana, and my body tells me to let go. Why shouldn't I? What have I to look forward to, really? A lifetime imprisonment here in the temple? Knowing that the rest of the world out there is experiencing something, rather than nothing?

Please forgive me for ranting, Tatyana. Indulge me as you would, a dying person. For I am dying emotionally, if not physically. I don't even know how I could have lived the past 18 years here... and the frightening thing is, I don't remember. Each day passes as blankly as the next; I eat, I pray, I sleep. And contact with fellow human beings is kept to a minimum, because of my so-called sins.

What sins have I committed, Tatyana? Of marrying a man I loved, who had no title? Of getting wedded without my parents' permission first? If Mother could forgive me, why can't he?! Who is he to judge me so severely, as if he had no sins of his own?!

There, I have long wanted to vent this out, and I have. How ironic it would be, if this were my last chat with you. For remember how I had gushed about my love for him on the day I penned my first entry?

I was never more blind.
------------

The diary's remaining pages were empty.

Finding herself nodding away, Acacia rubbed her eyes and hastily kept her bundle, her mind too fatigued to think.

Yawning, she stretched out her arms, lowered herself under the blankets and promptly fell asleep.

08-07-2006, 08:56 AM	#246
mistral4543 Ma'at - Goddess of Truth & Justice Join Date: September 5, 2001 Location: House of Freelight Age: 48 Posts: 3,159	The second half of daylight spent, she led her horse to the stables of the inn they would be stopping over for the night. "You'll be safe here, Canna." The mare rubbed its snout against her hand affectionately, drawing a smile out of her mistress' weary lips. What a flirt. Acacia caressed the mane in return, instructing the stable lad to take good care of her companion. Stepping inside the inn, she sat herself down at the table where the innkeeper's wife had prepared a bowl of hot soup and bread. Ravenously, she downed a spoonful of the soup, only to half-yelp as it scalded her throat. The sight of her spluttering and almost choking on her bread thereafter, brought much amusement to the other patrons. What do they know? She winced to herself. They'd do the same if they were as hungry and tired as I am. When she had finally made it into her room, she took care to lock the door securely before sitting herself and removing her boots and socks. The bath would have to wait till the next day, for her eyelids were fast closing and yet the most important task of the day had yet to be completed... It was the diary, of course, that she needed to read. My last link with my mother. *My mother.* How awfully distant it sounded. Her forehead creased with irritation. It's not as if I had a choice. To bar these useless laments from re-emerging, she extracted the bundle again. Then, flinging herself onto the bed, she leaned against the bedpost and read the next few entries: February the 14th, 931 My two months are almost up, Tatyana. Anya sleeps peacefully beside me, unaware of the changes that are to come. I am to leave the Freelight manor on March the 1st, heading for my final destination: The Temple of the Heironeous. There, I am to stay for the rest of my life in penitence. I do not know how I can live without Anya, who heads for a separate venue with Mother. But as I have sworn that I will do anything to let her live, so must I keep my word. Anya lives if I abide my vow to Aragorn, Tatyana. If you have only that much to give, please pray for my daughter first. She is innocent. ------------------- March the 20th, 931 It is worse than I had thought possible. Every care is given for my physical well-being, but the walls that surround me blot out any rays of hope. My only consolation is that Anya is not here to suffer with me. ---------------------- August the 20th, 931 It is exactly five months since my last entry. Imagine my astonishment to receive Mother's letter today! It must be the miracle of Anya softening her heart; once she had wanted to disown me, but now she offers me only words of comfort. Be patient and hopeful, her letter says. But I do not count on Aragorn's forgiveness. I know that temper and pride of his too well; he will never cave in. It is so difficult, Tatyana, to cling on to our happy childhood when I see this unyielding side of him. All his mind is filled with right now are family honour, that silly Shattered Reality of his, and that young Eilonwy he had met during the battle. The battle that killed my beloved Shane. I tell myself I must not despair too much, but I wonder who, apart from Mother, would really care what became of me. ------------------- December the 25th, 931 It is Christmas, and what would have been the second year of our wedding anniversary. What a novelty it is, to spend this day in this prison; for "temple" can only be an euphemism for what this place truly is. Hush, Anneliese! I hear you cry; for you worry that the priests might chance upon this treacherous piece of writing I am scribbling down. Cease your crying, love. I hear you urge; but how can I stop, how long do you expect me to put on a placid face for these decrepit fools to see and believe? It is hard work pretending to be a full convert, but I seem to have persuaded them with a talent I never knew I possessed. Nay, I must say my piece or go mad... or is insanity my escape valve? Fear not; I shall not go amok yet, not without receiving Mother's updates of Anya. -------------- December the 26th, 946 Anya turns 16 today, Tatyana. I wonder what she looks like. -------------- October the 29th, 949 I don't feel too well, Tatyana, and my body tells me to let go. Why shouldn't I? What have I to look forward to, really? A lifetime imprisonment here in the temple? Knowing that the rest of the world out there is experiencing *something*, rather than nothing? Please forgive me for ranting, Tatyana. Indulge me as you would, a dying person. For I am dying emotionally, if not physically. I don't even know how I could have lived the past 18 years here... and the frightening thing is, I don't remember. Each day passes as blankly as the next; I eat, I pray, I sleep. And contact with fellow human beings is kept to a minimum, because of my so-called sins. What sins have I committed, Tatyana? Of marrying a man I loved, who had no title? Of getting wedded without my parents' permission first? If Mother could forgive me, why can't he?! Who is he to judge me so severely, as if he had no sins of his own?! There, I have long wanted to vent this out, and I have. How ironic it would be, if this were my last chat with you. For remember how I had gushed about my love for him on the day I penned my first entry? I was never more blind. ------------ The diary's remaining pages were empty. Finding herself nodding away, Acacia rubbed her eyes and hastily kept her bundle, her mind too fatigued to think. Yawning, she stretched out her arms, lowered herself under the blankets and promptly fell asleep.