Written By Tikva
April 16, 2018, 2:52 p.m.(7/23/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Gareth
I would just like everyone who may have cause to read my journals but not his to know that Prince Gareth Grayson, Inquisitor for the Crown, has now publicly advocated jokes.
Written By Tikva
April 12, 2018, 4:23 p.m.(7/15/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Caith
I have met Princess Caith and it is my firm belief that she was always an explorer.
Written By Tikva
April 7, 2018, 5:01 p.m.(7/6/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Calarian
Calarian Grayson has given this house decades of service, intelligence, honor and reserved personal strength. I have seen him put his personal feelings behind the good of the realm in even the most taxing and strenuous of circumstances.
House Wyrmguard seeks our best. I wish the couple the best of luck, that they may suit.
House Wyrmguard seeks our best. I wish the couple the best of luck, that they may suit.
Written By Tikva
April 4, 2018, 6:45 p.m.(6/28/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Itzal
Perhaps I should ask you to pen some of my official correspondence for awhile. It would certainly be more entertaining than doing it myself.
Written By Tikva
April 1, 2018, 11:56 p.m.(6/22/1008 AR)
A dialogue from this morning:
Tiber: "Mom, Ash is super rude. Mom. Why won't Ash say anything?"
Me: "He's a baby!"
Tiber: "That's stupid. I always said stuff when I was a baby."
Me: "You did?"
Tiber: "I always said stuff! Tell him to say stuff!"
Me: "What'd you say?"
Tiber: "If you weren't listening then why would you listen now?"
I guess it's a good question!
Tiber: "Mom, Ash is super rude. Mom. Why won't Ash say anything?"
Me: "He's a baby!"
Tiber: "That's stupid. I always said stuff when I was a baby."
Me: "You did?"
Tiber: "I always said stuff! Tell him to say stuff!"
Me: "What'd you say?"
Tiber: "If you weren't listening then why would you listen now?"
I guess it's a good question!
Written By Tikva
March 31, 2018, 5:42 p.m.(6/20/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Barric
Remember, Barric:
No matter what you wear, you are Barric Grayson, Prince of Bastion! None greater!
Head up, best foot forward! Or I shall have to sponsor another pie dodging contest.
No matter what you wear, you are Barric Grayson, Prince of Bastion! None greater!
Head up, best foot forward! Or I shall have to sponsor another pie dodging contest.
Written By Tikva
March 21, 2018, 12:38 p.m.(5/25/1008 AR)
I am home.
One of the first letters I opened when I got home from Setarco was a very nicely worded apology about the furor in the Whites about my husband, from a concerned friend.
Which of course led me here, to the Archive, to see what in the world.
What I have found is fucking ridiculous, you should all be ashamed of your pettiness, and I am not forgetting a single one of the white journals I have read on the subject, including Princess Marian's apology, which I commend for its complete insincerity as a masterful example of its kind.
A B S U R D.
What the fuck is the matter with you people?
House Grayson is TREMENDOUSLY proud of Aiden, NONE of you have any business commenting on OUR MILITARY COMMAND STRUCTURE, in which BOTH BROTHERS are commanders, and the idea that this is a matter for public comment is met-- well, never mind.
You know what?
I am going to simply reiterate an old song I wrote for Serafine Velenosa, who fell defending the Compact while you were all sitting at home complaining about who fought where. You may assume the fart noises are included and magnified to the best of my bardic ability.
*****
Our life together’s like a love song
When your warm hand touches mine
It seems like nothing could go wrong;
Your kiss goes to my head like wine.
Your eyes on mine, they shine like stars
and you hold my heart in your hand;
I’m caught in your arms, caged behind bars;
but my capture feels ever so grand.
Yet the sweetest thing about our love
More romantic than stardust on our hearts
or glowing moonlight on the wings of a dove--
I’m safe enough with you to release my farts!
Laugh with me, lover; hold me so close;
I’ll buy you some sweets, or maybe a book—
And when you think it’s safe, I’ll lick your nose!
A girl like you can melt me with a look,
But here’s the thing, with two lives intertwined,
It’s not just songs and chocolates here,
Hold my hand, my love, and bear in mind
It’s you and I; let all the rest disappear.
One of the first letters I opened when I got home from Setarco was a very nicely worded apology about the furor in the Whites about my husband, from a concerned friend.
Which of course led me here, to the Archive, to see what in the world.
What I have found is fucking ridiculous, you should all be ashamed of your pettiness, and I am not forgetting a single one of the white journals I have read on the subject, including Princess Marian's apology, which I commend for its complete insincerity as a masterful example of its kind.
A B S U R D.
What the fuck is the matter with you people?
House Grayson is TREMENDOUSLY proud of Aiden, NONE of you have any business commenting on OUR MILITARY COMMAND STRUCTURE, in which BOTH BROTHERS are commanders, and the idea that this is a matter for public comment is met-- well, never mind.
You know what?
I am going to simply reiterate an old song I wrote for Serafine Velenosa, who fell defending the Compact while you were all sitting at home complaining about who fought where. You may assume the fart noises are included and magnified to the best of my bardic ability.
*****
Our life together’s like a love song
When your warm hand touches mine
It seems like nothing could go wrong;
Your kiss goes to my head like wine.
Your eyes on mine, they shine like stars
and you hold my heart in your hand;
I’m caught in your arms, caged behind bars;
but my capture feels ever so grand.
Yet the sweetest thing about our love
More romantic than stardust on our hearts
or glowing moonlight on the wings of a dove--
I’m safe enough with you to release my farts!
Laugh with me, lover; hold me so close;
I’ll buy you some sweets, or maybe a book—
And when you think it’s safe, I’ll lick your nose!
A girl like you can melt me with a look,
But here’s the thing, with two lives intertwined,
It’s not just songs and chocolates here,
Hold my hand, my love, and bear in mind
It’s you and I; let all the rest disappear.
Written By Tikva
March 21, 2018, 12:29 p.m.(5/25/1008 AR)
Sweet Lucita. I'm so sorry. Your happiness was so new, fledgling warmth.
I know this grief. I know it so well. I lost my Kelleth while I carried his first child, and for a time, there was nothing, nothing in my life that was not rage.
If there is anything that I can do, please but name it.
I know this grief. I know it so well. I lost my Kelleth while I carried his first child, and for a time, there was nothing, nothing in my life that was not rage.
If there is anything that I can do, please but name it.
Written By Tikva
March 20, 2018, 7:19 p.m.(5/23/1008 AR)
Forwarded from Setarco:
I owe my deepest thanks to my sisters-at-arms, Lucita and Sorrel, for we sang together against the foe. I'm still not entirely sure what happened when I was struck down, but I have it on good report that I owe my speedy recovery to Lady Ianna Greenmarch, whose tender care brought me round and helped cool my aching, aching head -- and to Lord Corban Telmar, who carried my swooning self from the tower. Thank you for the rescue, Lord Telmar. I am sure that if I had been awake, the heroism would have made me swoon all over again. Or so I'm told.
I'm out of bed again and the threat looms on the horizon like a great, hideous blackness. Lord Ian Kennex's men are reforming their shield wall to keep us safe as we remount the tower. I don't know what is to come, but as I risk all for the Compact, I am given a moment's warmth and reflection by how far and wide the unity of this moment reaches: from the Crownlands, where my home lies, to the Lyceum, where Lucita's husband, home and hearth await her, to the Mourning Isles, where Lord Ian's men and my sweet friend Sorrel hale from, to the Oathlands, where my bold rescuers and healers stand tall, to the bold North, where my husband and our troops rallied in defense of Stormwall--
We are strong because we are together, and our voices will rise today with all the force that harmony can bring to bear.
Once more, ladies, from the top . . .
I owe my deepest thanks to my sisters-at-arms, Lucita and Sorrel, for we sang together against the foe. I'm still not entirely sure what happened when I was struck down, but I have it on good report that I owe my speedy recovery to Lady Ianna Greenmarch, whose tender care brought me round and helped cool my aching, aching head -- and to Lord Corban Telmar, who carried my swooning self from the tower. Thank you for the rescue, Lord Telmar. I am sure that if I had been awake, the heroism would have made me swoon all over again. Or so I'm told.
I'm out of bed again and the threat looms on the horizon like a great, hideous blackness. Lord Ian Kennex's men are reforming their shield wall to keep us safe as we remount the tower. I don't know what is to come, but as I risk all for the Compact, I am given a moment's warmth and reflection by how far and wide the unity of this moment reaches: from the Crownlands, where my home lies, to the Lyceum, where Lucita's husband, home and hearth await her, to the Mourning Isles, where Lord Ian's men and my sweet friend Sorrel hale from, to the Oathlands, where my bold rescuers and healers stand tall, to the bold North, where my husband and our troops rallied in defense of Stormwall--
We are strong because we are together, and our voices will rise today with all the force that harmony can bring to bear.
Once more, ladies, from the top . . .
Written By Tikva
March 15, 2018, 9:42 a.m.(5/13/1008 AR)
Never decide what you will see before you look. The eye and the mind should be partners, not at odds.
Written By Tikva
March 9, 2018, 10:19 p.m.(5/2/1008 AR)
I am glad that this matter has been cleared up.
Written By Tikva
March 9, 2018, 2:02 p.m.(5/1/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Calaudrin
A public apology:
I did in fact make off with your banjo. I am very sorry. I shall return this inadvertently stolen property posthaste.
I did in fact make off with your banjo. I am very sorry. I shall return this inadvertently stolen property posthaste.
Written By Tikva
March 9, 2018, 1:22 p.m.(5/1/1008 AR)
My word. I cannot say it is shocking that when one writes in feeling, one is wildly misinterpreted, for it happens often, yet here I am taking pen to paper to clarify, lest my own sister decide I am a monster of ingratitude.
It's nice to see so many voices raised in support of the ennoblement of bastard children. Count Tibault would have had much less to shield us from if these voices had been raised mightily when I was a girl. I would have had to fight less hard for Tiber's title when I married Lord Kelleth. I won't speak to a thousand sneers and sideglances. If you haven't been there, I suppose you might not notice.
These are bastard children with two living commoner parents who are being adopted by a titled duchess with issue of her own. For some reason. I hope someone consulted their living, breathing commoner mother.
But sure, let us by all means that this is all about the grace and innocence of children. That everyone always ennobles bastards. Out of simple loving kindness. Without respect for what their parents have done to their own oaths.
That is obviously how this has always worked. Think of the children.
It's nice to see so many voices raised in support of the ennoblement of bastard children. Count Tibault would have had much less to shield us from if these voices had been raised mightily when I was a girl. I would have had to fight less hard for Tiber's title when I married Lord Kelleth. I won't speak to a thousand sneers and sideglances. If you haven't been there, I suppose you might not notice.
These are bastard children with two living commoner parents who are being adopted by a titled duchess with issue of her own. For some reason. I hope someone consulted their living, breathing commoner mother.
But sure, let us by all means that this is all about the grace and innocence of children. That everyone always ennobles bastards. Out of simple loving kindness. Without respect for what their parents have done to their own oaths.
That is obviously how this has always worked. Think of the children.
Written By Tikva
March 8, 2018, 9:52 p.m.(4/28/1008 AR)
I am a bastard. My birth was a curse. I was born to the abandonment of oaths. My parents dishonored Limerance. My mother forsook the Faith.
I was raised by the hand of a man who saw in me something special, ennobled to the Peerage of House Laveer. It was done at a cost. Even now, Brighthold is known for its flotsam.
Yet even then, it was done quietly. Twenty years ago and more, unacknowledged and mayhap orphan, alone in the world but for this precious strand of family. When my mother's crime against her oaths was discovered she lost everything. I do not claim certainty even of my father's name.
I have borne this knowledge my whole life. I am a bastard, born of shame, and dishonor, and broken oaths.
Yet even I, innocent and rescued child that I was, must blink at the idea of raising the bastard babes of an excommunicated exile to the Peerage and publicly pronouncing it as something to be celebrated.
Truly, I do not know what else to say.
I was raised by the hand of a man who saw in me something special, ennobled to the Peerage of House Laveer. It was done at a cost. Even now, Brighthold is known for its flotsam.
Yet even then, it was done quietly. Twenty years ago and more, unacknowledged and mayhap orphan, alone in the world but for this precious strand of family. When my mother's crime against her oaths was discovered she lost everything. I do not claim certainty even of my father's name.
I have borne this knowledge my whole life. I am a bastard, born of shame, and dishonor, and broken oaths.
Yet even I, innocent and rescued child that I was, must blink at the idea of raising the bastard babes of an excommunicated exile to the Peerage and publicly pronouncing it as something to be celebrated.
Truly, I do not know what else to say.
Written By Tikva
March 2, 2018, 2:26 p.m.(4/15/1008 AR)
Relationship Note on Tomwell
I have received the greatest potato of my life.
Written By Tikva
Feb. 26, 2018, 12:06 a.m.(4/6/1008 AR)
Asharion Grayson, whose birthday will forever be the DAY AFTER your mother's:
I pray you will always have the clear eyes and adventurer's spirit of the woman we named you for, and I look forward to seeing each step you take in this world now that you have joined it.
And man, this little boy can scream!
I pray you will always have the clear eyes and adventurer's spirit of the woman we named you for, and I look forward to seeing each step you take in this world now that you have joined it.
And man, this little boy can scream!
Written By Tikva
Feb. 24, 2018, 9:33 p.m.(4/4/1008 AR)
Prayers are for the gods. Psalms are for the congregation. This-- this is for my dear friend, and for Lagoma. Bless you. Hope on. Lantern high, hope on.
Flame’s heat, warm on my face
A tiny spark is all that it takes
Hope kindles new and bright in this place
Strangers and friends together it makes
I see you, with me, at my side,
and in this moment, fear is gone;
despair once threatened, now it’s died,
and these floating lights are bright as dawn.
The fire itself is wild, untamed,
but in this moment, fire is named
Lagoma, you are more than change—
all that is new and fierce and strange
Thank you. Hope is now. Hope is growth.
I embrace that; I give you this psalm and oath.
Flame’s heat, warm on my face
A tiny spark is all that it takes
Hope kindles new and bright in this place
Strangers and friends together it makes
I see you, with me, at my side,
and in this moment, fear is gone;
despair once threatened, now it’s died,
and these floating lights are bright as dawn.
The fire itself is wild, untamed,
but in this moment, fire is named
Lagoma, you are more than change—
all that is new and fierce and strange
Thank you. Hope is now. Hope is growth.
I embrace that; I give you this psalm and oath.
Written By Tikva
Feb. 24, 2018, 11:59 a.m.(4/3/1008 AR)
Foot rubs are pretty good, but honestly there are very few areas of my body that I have not imperiously ordered Prince Ainsley to rub for me over the past few months.
This is because I am sore literally all of the time.
I will not spend my entire entry in the Whites bemoaning my lot as a mother, however, for awhile my patient husband and his loving hands have been a solace to my aches, I must write more seriously, more fiercely, for a moment.
27 years ago today, my mother was already in labor. In secret, in seclusion, hiding. Desperate that no one would find out that she had dishonored her oaths before Limerance and all the gods. And I sit here, honoring my oaths before Limerance and all the gods, and I feel that I have finally surpassed the shadow of what she has done. The shadow of what was left behind.
I am Tikva Laveer, and I am Tikva Riven, and I am Tikva Grayson.
And I am proud of who I am, and who I was born to be.
No matter whose bastard I was.
This is because I am sore literally all of the time.
I will not spend my entire entry in the Whites bemoaning my lot as a mother, however, for awhile my patient husband and his loving hands have been a solace to my aches, I must write more seriously, more fiercely, for a moment.
27 years ago today, my mother was already in labor. In secret, in seclusion, hiding. Desperate that no one would find out that she had dishonored her oaths before Limerance and all the gods. And I sit here, honoring my oaths before Limerance and all the gods, and I feel that I have finally surpassed the shadow of what she has done. The shadow of what was left behind.
I am Tikva Laveer, and I am Tikva Riven, and I am Tikva Grayson.
And I am proud of who I am, and who I was born to be.
No matter whose bastard I was.
Written By Tikva
Feb. 21, 2018, 12:41 p.m.(3/25/1008 AR)
The only thing surprising about this new "tax" is that there is any squawking about it at all. All vassals are expected to pay a tithe of 1/13 of their income to their direct liege. Do you provide an accounting to your vassals of everything that you do with that customary tithe before Limerance? Good grief, what a mess of paperwork that would be. I'm glad Cara and Lark do our financials, I have enough work without imagining that!
Written By Tikva
Feb. 19, 2018, 12:05 a.m.(3/20/1008 AR)
It might be happening. I might finally be getting tired of eating potatoes.
Tiber has been four years old for a week. He is very frustrated at not being able to read his bedtime book to himself. Today, he took the book out of my hands, yelled, "No! I do what I want!" and threw it on the bed.
I am sure Skald would be very proud.
One day, he will be a fully adult Lord Riven and he will find these entries and he will wonder why the gods cursed him with a mother who overshares.
Tiber has been four years old for a week. He is very frustrated at not being able to read his bedtime book to himself. Today, he took the book out of my hands, yelled, "No! I do what I want!" and threw it on the bed.
I am sure Skald would be very proud.
One day, he will be a fully adult Lord Riven and he will find these entries and he will wonder why the gods cursed him with a mother who overshares.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.