Conrob

I’ve not put a pen to this journal for several days now. I do think I’ve had a good excuse for it. Much has happened…more than I want to acknowledge or recall, in fact. Some things, I will not talk about here, for I wish to forget that they occurred at all. I’m afraid my thoughts, at this time, will be somewhat random and scattered.

What a strange and intoxicating way to wake up in the morning...not quite dressed, and with a man beside me. One might think that something salacious had taken place overnight, though it hasn't. Even in our most amorous moments, he is always and forever a gentleman, tender and thoughtful and ever concerned for my comfort and happiness. A person could argue that my torn dress is evidence to the contrary, but I wouldn't agree. I don't mistake passion for vulgarity. I am hardly an angel of self-control when in his arms.

Yesterday was largely pleasant, though a few moments were as ugly and harsh as anything I’ve ever known. Strangely, I don’t feel the same insecurity, the same regret, as I have on previous occasions. Could it be that I’m finally coming into my own identity, as Fate rakes me over the coals more and more? Am I finally finding my own voice? Losing my fear of offending others?

I know this isn't in my best interest to write any of these thoughts out, and I'm very certain it will backfire horrendously, though.. for my own sake and possibly those around me, I guess I will.  

The day had started off so well. As well as could be expected given a man crossing paths with a former lover. So gifted in the deadly art of ending men's lives. Especially as I did wonder whether or not it was she desired my death. Given the hasty severing of ties with the Firefly whom we both once called friend. She threatened my life if I should hurt her, as I recall. But even as this was a surprise to me I'd achieved my aims of finding what I was looking for. Another job crossed off my list.

One fine bottle of Dalish whiskey, and a small keg of very difficult to procure Kingsmead in these times of war. My gifts to my friends for their wedding celebration. I am caught up with the books I am pleased to report. Freedom at last. The Mayor can have his taxes now that I can be certain exactly what he is owed and be damned.

How did I even manage to sleep last night? I must have been exhausted with happiness... is there such a thing? 

I have not stopped smiling since I opened my eyes this morning. The day appears rather dreary and drizzly from where I sit, but I can't find it in myself to mind. I feel as though the sun has found its way into my breast and is filling me with light - warm and golden and gentle. 

I find that, in the absence of madness, my mind has a chance to quiet itself, and return to simply thinking about things. It's been some time since I could simply sit and think, without having to worry about folk around me screaming bloody murder or having knives thrown at me, or any other number of chaotic occurrences that seem to have overtaken Bree-town recently. 

After spending yesterday doing little but sleeping and scribbling here in between my naps, it feels quite incredible to be wide-awake once again, with a bit of energy back in my bones.

  In the following nights after Aallan proposed his plan to rob a giant in the Brandy Hills to Dufr, he drew up a map of the far western areas of Bree-Land using a quill pen, a sheet of parchment, and an inkwell.  All three of which he certainly did not steal from a drunkard or a crook of a book-keeper...  On and off, he would illustrate the areas and where the giant could possibly be, as well as mention his 'little' venture with the fair Brynleigh.  Upon hearing of this trip to the giant's hut, she had worried in her heart if Aallan had gone mad.