How can it be June already? No longer spring, really, summer is finally here again! The trees that had flowered so beautifully are now full of leaves, and the air has a soft, balmy tint that reminds me of the warmer seasons of home. I love how early the sun rises now. I love hearing the birds serenading the world long before breakfast. We sleep with the windows open now, and we can hear the water nearby, day and night. I can sit here now at seven o'clock and the sun is nearly over the trees already. A cool breeze is fluttering the pages of my journal, and if I look up, I can see through the doorway into the bedroom. A hulking figure tangled in bed sheets, still snoring.
How I smile every time I look at him! I love him more with every passing breath, though I don't know how such a thing is possible. I don't question it. I have given myself fully to this sublime, divine mystery. I chuckle inwardly at those who dared to tease that this "old man" couldn't possibly please a young woman like myself. Oh, if they only knew. But part of the delights of love are the secrets it holds. Even now, I long for his touch. Having just left his arms, I only wish to run back to them. Is this how all newlyweds feel? I don't know, and I won't ask! Our nights are a blur of passion, though we've begun finding moments here and there during the day where we seem to become suddenly overwhelmed and we fall on each other with an ever-deepening need. One might think that the flames would be tempered and controlled after the wedding, but...the opposite seems to be happening with us. Perhaps our love has had a balancing effect, in that it has awakened the woman within me, and rejuvenated the young man within him. I will not question it further! I will simply...give myself over to it. With a smile.
Preparations continue for our journey east with Baldmar and Cesistya. My excitement is only rivaled by my anxiety. I've double and triple-checked my pack and my supplies. I've laid out my traveling clothes, checked them for rips and tears. Such nostalgia, to look at them. Memories...not very happy ones, either. Leaving home, I was so sorrowful, so afraid, but determined. I wore them again when I went searching for Tothrandir in the Lone Lands, guided by Sigfread. I wonder if he even remembers it, or me. Let us hope that this journey will yield some happier memories for these clothes! I'm keeping a close eye on Jacks' hooves, of course, as he's grown rather fat and lazy, grazing all over Hookworth and not really going anywhere anymore. He needs the wide-open plains of the Mark to stretch his legs. Or perhaps, just a mistress who disciplines him with some galloping over the Bree-fields now and then. And I still need to get my sword to that fellow Aeonid, for some sharpening. A fleeting thought of Lainric just now. It was he who taught me to use a blade. Strange…how long ago, and far away, those memories seem now. Like another life.
I must write to Neyaa and tell her of my upcoming absence. I hope she and her son are well. I’ve not seen her since the wedding party. I don’t think I’ve met a more generous and gracious lady. I do wonder how she and Seaver have gotten on. Funny, to think now, how he and I almost flirted once upon a time. Well, when I wasn’t irritating him with my benevolent concerns for his soul’s welfare!
I see a stirring in the bedroom, at last. And with that, I will lay down my quill and give him a proper “good morning”.
