It is early as I write these words, I have just carried my flower home. As I saw her sleeping the morning prior I crept out of the house with a heaviness in my heart. I still could not think. Yet as the day wore on I grew lighter of spirit, the walk clearing my head as I suspected it might. And the further I got from home. Through the woods. The more I wished I had remained in bed at her side. The intensity of feeling building up within me and I dared to smile at the thought of just being around her.
I had never thought that given the darkness in my heart that I would ever see the light again but it burns brightly. I wait, and the expected wound does not come. Indeed, ever since the light went out completely when the girl they called the Rat and I parted ways I did not think this was ever even possible. Not since the night I attended the funeral of the Captain I had not expected to feel this way again.
Instead of darkness there was laughter, there was much joy. We spoke of many things. We spoke of my fears. She understood them. Accepted them. It is exhausting being us. The act of bearing myself with nothing there to hide. Mind or body. Debilitating at times. Yet also an act of liberation. She said she did not want to suffocate me. I replied that I evidently happen to like being suffocated. I seem to keep coming back for more.
In that dramatic way she begins conversations once. Utterly vexing. She at first announced to me casual as day that she had heard I kept slaves in my cellar. That was on our second or third meeting. So since then. it has become a bit of a running joke that I am an Evil Lord. And she my poor distressed captive. But I did something very bold today. I gave her a promotion. We even came up with a dastardly surname in the Bree-land style. I elevated her to the status of my Lady grandiosely. And thus we were the Blackhearts. She my darkest flower and I her dark knight. A strange fairy tale, Of course. All Lords and Ladies need a castle. I pondered on taking her up to the manor. I should have liked to have seen her face. We will rule Bree, enslave the world and dine on the flesh of innocent babes. I'm sure it would have been quite the picture to see such a grand hall. It is the best kept secret in Bree-land, after all.
I actually saw the spirits of my father and that wretch in my mind's eye.
I looked my fears dead on. And I smiled a defiant smile. You will not get in the way of this. She is not you, and I am not him. I do seem to like similar women to my father. With a certain thrill and danger to them but that is the sum of the matter. I will once more walk out from beneath your shadow. A free man. She will not haunt my every waking breath any longer as she did yours. No. Not in the guise of one I hold dear.
The shield of being a womanizer and a rogue I still bear or at least perceived to be I still bear. How I love to play up to their perceptions of me for amusement's sake. Tales of my exploits exaggerated even beyond the realities of what they were and there were many. And I have been with many. A lot more women they claim I have been with I haven't even after I regained self control. Foregoing attachment. It is an act that has served as a defence mechanism from the pain of betrayal, from the pain of death. The pain that love brings. Yet is this love and potential pain not preferable to the hollowness within? Publically I should have liked to have kept the mask a little longer. But it is much too late for that.
I suppose it is already out there, now. It will only tear us asunder quickly if I try to keep it under wraps. I'm already half-expecting the lies to come spilling forth about me.
How they would laugh if they read these foolish words, I shall have to learn to play the lute. Get down on one knee in the middle of the town and play a sweet serenade. I even suggested it. I did a rendition though I think the intended effect didn't occur as she laughed. How rude. I was being oh so serious as well, So serious.
What a light and flowery piece, Just like my flower. The girl clearly rubs off on me. I have thrown off the shackles even if only for but a night. Even talking to you poor reader seems easier in this frame of mind.
In truth, my mood has been a little soured. I would have no doubt written more. I spilled ink on the last page rendering it all but ineligible. I am not usually clumsy like that. But clumsy is what I have seemed to be these days.
I fear this entry would be even more sentimental than it is, Those love poems I mentioned in the final pages of my last journal may have manifested after all. I suspect I have saved myself embarrassment should the red-head come by my journal again and actually read. I wonder how she is, She is the closest tie I have in these lands though we have become distant. Respite she did provide me for a time. I helped her not succumb to the darkness even though I could not save myself. I suppose, Your masks do serve a purpose. I think I shall hold onto them. Last time I checked murders within the Hedge wall were within the jurisdiction of the Watch and punishable by death regardless of who dies unless it is sanctioned officially. They only tolerate the mercenaries even passing through because of their inability to deal with the problems in the countryside.
I need to keep an active and friendly face to be beyond suspicion. That's what I was taught. Even though as when I was a boy I would rather be more selective of my company. And trust me. There are some folks I would rather not smile at, at all.
I must still keep my secret for my little brother's sake even though I would rather tell all. But the burden is a little lighter. I really do need to remember to tell her that. I set off with the intention of having the talk every single day. But it's so very hard when you find yourself sighing dreamily every five seconds. Rather preoccupied with... other more physical matters. Quite literally.
There has to be honesty. I spoke of other women today. Dissuaded her fears. She seemed to trust me. I hope. I paid the price of my fraternisation before. When a town simply refused to believe a man could change. So long as we are honest and true to one another they can never hurt us.
I say all of this. Who knows what tomorrow will bring. But I will enjoy the voices of opposition silenced and gagged for the time being. They have broke free of their constraints many times before. But who can begrudge me, just for this moment.
There's also a little thing called work. I really must remember to attend to that, Days walking through the countryside and nightly frolicking are all well and good. But it seems there is little left for me to do work-wise. I have chased up every lead on the contracts at hand. Now all we can do is wait.
I am also now pondering on what to do with my caravans as a barmaid I know well said she thinks each and every time I float into town I feel the desire to be off again. On my next adventure. I do feel the urge to fly off again into the wind. But there is a job on the horizon that may satisfy my appetite. So I will perhaps keep them in retirement. And stay a while. I've enough gold to pay a skeleton staff and not just shut down completely for when the time comes. Perhaps I can be free with constraints? I'll keep this sigil in my pocket.
I feel guilty for not spending time with my son or his mother, I woke up by the lake with you can guess who. It certainly was a warm summer night...
