Written By Tikva
March 21, 2017, 9:28 p.m.(2/18/1006 AR)
Relationship Note on Reese
Princess Ribbons rode to war
'Gainst Bringers by the score
And they fall before her blade
Pink as strawb'ry lemonade!
Sorry for this little ditty
I know the words are kind of shitty
But the girl in ribboned armor
The one who'll never let 'em harm her
She's a girl I'll follow gladly
While rhyming very badly
'Cause none greater than a Grayson
whose style none may chasten,
Oh, Princess Ribbons rode to war
As I mentioned heretofore,
Fearless, brave and truly rosy
With her shining blade of posey,
And I'll follow at her heels,
Spinning hero verse -- for reals --
Singing songs of charm and prowess
For her smile and style so boundless!
'Gainst Bringers by the score
And they fall before her blade
Pink as strawb'ry lemonade!
Sorry for this little ditty
I know the words are kind of shitty
But the girl in ribboned armor
The one who'll never let 'em harm her
She's a girl I'll follow gladly
While rhyming very badly
'Cause none greater than a Grayson
whose style none may chasten,
Oh, Princess Ribbons rode to war
As I mentioned heretofore,
Fearless, brave and truly rosy
With her shining blade of posey,
And I'll follow at her heels,
Spinning hero verse -- for reals --
Singing songs of charm and prowess
For her smile and style so boundless!
Written By Tikva
March 18, 2017, 11:25 a.m.(2/12/1006 AR)
When I was a little girl, I wanted nothing more than to run wild and free. Across the beaches, the stones, the forests around Brighthold. I wanted nothing to bind me, but of course I was already bound. The ties of love and family connected me stronger to my brothers and sister than anything could have.
When I grew older and came to understand the duty that I held, it was as an adopted child recognizing with every ounce of her heart, every fragment of her being, that some debts cannot be repaid, but must be paid on.
Then I grew older still, and because I was a teenager or because I fell madly in love, I knew -- KNEW -- that the oath I must take would draw me away from those ties, to a new family, that I swore myself to serve. Now my love is gone, though his mark will live on my heart forever, but I still get ... some solace from serving that oath with all my might.
But of course, true love is Tiber. Who literally has heard me talk about gods so much that he tried to say Limerance yesterday. At least I think that's what he tried to say. "Limance"?
Maybe I should give the kid a break ...
When I grew older and came to understand the duty that I held, it was as an adopted child recognizing with every ounce of her heart, every fragment of her being, that some debts cannot be repaid, but must be paid on.
Then I grew older still, and because I was a teenager or because I fell madly in love, I knew -- KNEW -- that the oath I must take would draw me away from those ties, to a new family, that I swore myself to serve. Now my love is gone, though his mark will live on my heart forever, but I still get ... some solace from serving that oath with all my might.
But of course, true love is Tiber. Who literally has heard me talk about gods so much that he tried to say Limerance yesterday. At least I think that's what he tried to say. "Limance"?
Maybe I should give the kid a break ...
Written By Tikva
March 10, 2017, 10:59 p.m.(1/25/1006 AR)
Mother's Spiced Cider is a delicious winter treat and while it didn't take a prize at the contest tonight, I'm pleased that it was popular! It's a much creamier taste than the apple ciders produced at the Twainfort, and the ginger gives it just a nice bit of spice.
It was a very nice party, spent in charming company. I should come up with a way for Mistress Acacia to earn her wager back!
Now if only my face would stop tingling... this was way more alcohol than I usually drink in an evening ... ooo, I hope I don't regret it tomorrow.
It was a very nice party, spent in charming company. I should come up with a way for Mistress Acacia to earn her wager back!
Now if only my face would stop tingling... this was way more alcohol than I usually drink in an evening ... ooo, I hope I don't regret it tomorrow.
Written By Tikva
Feb. 27, 2017, 12:40 a.m.(1/1/1006 AR)
I have joined Lord Nigel in serving as a Voice of House Riven, particularly while Countess Mia continues to rule from the Twainfort. It's my honor to serve the Count and Countess Riven for the Twainfort, as I once served Brighthold for my beloved brother, Count Tibault.
I pray to Limerance that I will only do honor to my lieges in so serving.
I pray to Limerance that I will only do honor to my lieges in so serving.
Written By Tikva
Feb. 26, 2017, 2:33 a.m.(12/27/1005 AR)
I have come to the conclusion that I am not a jouster.
It was a fun tournament, though. I just ... am going to be soaking in that bath place again. Soon. Ow.
It was a fun tournament, though. I just ... am going to be soaking in that bath place again. Soon. Ow.
Written By Tikva
Feb. 23, 2017, 6:32 p.m.(12/22/1005 AR)
There is no one god whose nature makes the truth their sole province. Each of them loves it in their own way. The Sentinel loves truth as the instrument of justice; Limerance, where honesty is the only path of true loyalty and love; Gloria, as the sword of the righteous; Gild, because the lack of truth is the enemy of understanding -- only true need benefits from charity, where all else would simply be greed --
I could go on.
When a duel is fought to honor Gloria, it is the trueness of the heart that must be vindicated by victory. I honor ArchDuke Niccolo for accepting that in his gracious speech at the duel yesterday, for in his acknowledgment of Princess Reese's victory, he recognized that Her Highness acted boldly, for love of family. Even a mistaken understanding, taken righteously, is no dishonor --discourtesy, perhaps, at times -- but no dishonor!
Count Thesarin cautioned against the ready heat of blood in these dark times, and I do not gainsay my liege by so saying. Yet I think that, should tempers fire, it is best that matters be resolved quickly and cleanly in this way. Let these traditions be embraced by all who need them.
I mean, I definitely don't plan on insulting anybody, but if I do so on accident, please challenge me and let's have it out, before Gloria, before the Sentinel! Let this be a standing invitation to all. Let nothing fester in your heart! Truth and openness are the only paths to knowledge and friendship.
Shining a light is the only way to find your way in the dark.
I could go on.
When a duel is fought to honor Gloria, it is the trueness of the heart that must be vindicated by victory. I honor ArchDuke Niccolo for accepting that in his gracious speech at the duel yesterday, for in his acknowledgment of Princess Reese's victory, he recognized that Her Highness acted boldly, for love of family. Even a mistaken understanding, taken righteously, is no dishonor --discourtesy, perhaps, at times -- but no dishonor!
Count Thesarin cautioned against the ready heat of blood in these dark times, and I do not gainsay my liege by so saying. Yet I think that, should tempers fire, it is best that matters be resolved quickly and cleanly in this way. Let these traditions be embraced by all who need them.
I mean, I definitely don't plan on insulting anybody, but if I do so on accident, please challenge me and let's have it out, before Gloria, before the Sentinel! Let this be a standing invitation to all. Let nothing fester in your heart! Truth and openness are the only paths to knowledge and friendship.
Shining a light is the only way to find your way in the dark.
Written By Tikva
Feb. 18, 2017, 3:37 p.m.(12/12/1005 AR)
Old sadness can touch your life in so many ways, and yet there is so much power left in a laugh.
I think humor may be the most powerful force in the universe. I challenge your heart not to be lifted by it.
I think humor may be the most powerful force in the universe. I challenge your heart not to be lifted by it.
Written By Tikva
Feb. 18, 2017, 1:11 a.m.(12/11/1005 AR)
I have heard it a few times since coming here. Silks. Offhanded, like it is not even an insult. Like it is simply the way things are.
It interests me. Silk is beautiful, it is fine, it is slick under my hands: a soft, sliding fabric, exquisite against bare skin. It's light. If woven well, it can be deceptively strong. But--
For the most part, while a display of elegance, of beauty, of style -- it is useless. It won't keep you warm. It isn't armor. It may serve gloriously in appearance as clothing, but for the practical elements of a garment, it is, if anything, of less value than sturdier, warmer cloth.
We owe protection and justice to those whose honor we hold. A liege owes his vassal this, and we as offshoots, as threading branches of the liege's power, how can we owe less? It is the first Law of Limerance. Yet if you say it to many of the common people of Arx whom I have met this week ... I believe they might laugh, and I can offer them no blame for so doing.
Wealth is not merely wealth to be spent or squandered. It is privilege. It has purpose. It should have purpose.
We should not be silk. We should be steel, to guard and protect, rivets and supports down to the struts.
I'm sorry, Limerance, that we are failing you.
It interests me. Silk is beautiful, it is fine, it is slick under my hands: a soft, sliding fabric, exquisite against bare skin. It's light. If woven well, it can be deceptively strong. But--
For the most part, while a display of elegance, of beauty, of style -- it is useless. It won't keep you warm. It isn't armor. It may serve gloriously in appearance as clothing, but for the practical elements of a garment, it is, if anything, of less value than sturdier, warmer cloth.
We owe protection and justice to those whose honor we hold. A liege owes his vassal this, and we as offshoots, as threading branches of the liege's power, how can we owe less? It is the first Law of Limerance. Yet if you say it to many of the common people of Arx whom I have met this week ... I believe they might laugh, and I can offer them no blame for so doing.
Wealth is not merely wealth to be spent or squandered. It is privilege. It has purpose. It should have purpose.
We should not be silk. We should be steel, to guard and protect, rivets and supports down to the struts.
I'm sorry, Limerance, that we are failing you.
Written By Tikva
Feb. 17, 2017, 7:55 p.m.(12/10/1005 AR)
Because I was asked about it this week--
Fatherhood.
My husband, Kelleth Riven, died fighting the Shav'Arvani in the Gray Forest, south of the Twainfort. He never got to meet his son, Lord Tiber, who was born three long, horrendous, miserable months after his death. My son will never know what it is to have a father. He will know the love of his uncles, of course, as he knows the love of his mother, as he knows the love of his aunts, and of all the zillion other people he is sure to charm into loving him before he turns two years old this spring.
As it happens, like my son, I also never knew my father. I knew Count Tibault, who raised me, and I knew him as one knows an older brother, an eldest brother, and the closest friend of one's heart.
I can't really speak to what that lack will mean for Tiber, any more than what I truly understand it meant for me. I have never regretted an instant of my family, the Laveers. I do not regret my new family, the Rivens. I love both, no, all of my family!
But I did hope for a completeness for my son that he will never have.
Fatherhood.
My husband, Kelleth Riven, died fighting the Shav'Arvani in the Gray Forest, south of the Twainfort. He never got to meet his son, Lord Tiber, who was born three long, horrendous, miserable months after his death. My son will never know what it is to have a father. He will know the love of his uncles, of course, as he knows the love of his mother, as he knows the love of his aunts, and of all the zillion other people he is sure to charm into loving him before he turns two years old this spring.
As it happens, like my son, I also never knew my father. I knew Count Tibault, who raised me, and I knew him as one knows an older brother, an eldest brother, and the closest friend of one's heart.
I can't really speak to what that lack will mean for Tiber, any more than what I truly understand it meant for me. I have never regretted an instant of my family, the Laveers. I do not regret my new family, the Rivens. I love both, no, all of my family!
But I did hope for a completeness for my son that he will never have.
Written By Tikva
Feb. 16, 2017, 1:30 a.m.(12/7/1005 AR)
I am surrounded by new, freshly bleeding wounds, and all I can think of is Rey. But the only bandages I have are words, my only poultice a smile, and my unguent a prayer. This is not my best metaphor.
You cannot heal a heart in an instant, I say. I touch mine and wonder how long it took to heal that wound. I know I'll always have the scar.
You'll find okay again, I say. It cannot be anything like the okay you had before, but sadness is what we need sometimes to grow and change. I know I took mine, and for awhile I was lost in it, but I grew, and changed, and became Tikva again.
Some things only time and quiet can heal, I say. Because distance can come no other way. Love is the greatest gift we have; remember that as you weep for it.
Be there, as they were for me. My brothers, my sister. My true solace, all I have left of Kelleth: my son. That's all you can do. Remember it is not about you. You want to do something, of course you do, we all want to do, to build, to fix, to _help_.
But that's about you. Love isn't about you. Love is selfless.
What's funny about this journal entry, of course, is that I felt driven to write it because I saw so much pain today, and now scribe out the advice I tried to give, because I too am driven to do, to build, to fix, to help.
But it is good advice, isn't it? I hope it is.
You cannot heal a heart in an instant, I say. I touch mine and wonder how long it took to heal that wound. I know I'll always have the scar.
You'll find okay again, I say. It cannot be anything like the okay you had before, but sadness is what we need sometimes to grow and change. I know I took mine, and for awhile I was lost in it, but I grew, and changed, and became Tikva again.
Some things only time and quiet can heal, I say. Because distance can come no other way. Love is the greatest gift we have; remember that as you weep for it.
Be there, as they were for me. My brothers, my sister. My true solace, all I have left of Kelleth: my son. That's all you can do. Remember it is not about you. You want to do something, of course you do, we all want to do, to build, to fix, to _help_.
But that's about you. Love isn't about you. Love is selfless.
What's funny about this journal entry, of course, is that I felt driven to write it because I saw so much pain today, and now scribe out the advice I tried to give, because I too am driven to do, to build, to fix, to help.
But it is good advice, isn't it? I hope it is.
Written By Tikva
Feb. 15, 2017, 12:27 a.m.(12/5/1005 AR)
Walking the city is interesting. The chill air prickles on my skin. It's still fall but I can smell winter coming. The hint of salt in the air in parts of town reminds me of home. Not ... my new home, my home now with Lord Tiber and all the rich forests and the twin rivers, but ... my first home, my real home. Will I ever stop thinking of Brighthold that way?
I always forget how big the city is. It's been years since I came to Arx. But the levies are called, the troops march, and a dire threat masses on the horizon, so here we are.
Today, I explored the city, investigated several shops, studied a prayer book at the shrine of Limerance, met the High Lord of Grayson, accidentally compared her to my great grandmother -- look, these things happen, all right? -- and possibly threw imaginary water at a nice swordswoman (hammerwoman?) of my fealty who has pretty great hair. I also attended a bread making competition where the Thrax showed people how to make hardtack, at which I performed just as badly as you might expect.
It's interesting to think of, really: that we turn the a life or death skill for our people into a game that we play for fun, as a fundraiser? Yet I can't say that it wasn't a fun game! But it does make you stop and think, doesn't it? Of what you owe your liege? Of what you owe the commoners under your protection? Doesn't it make you wonder what Limerance would think? Perhaps I will ask a priest!
I can imagine Tibault's expression telling him about it and it makes me laugh just sitting here writing!
I always forget how big the city is. It's been years since I came to Arx. But the levies are called, the troops march, and a dire threat masses on the horizon, so here we are.
Today, I explored the city, investigated several shops, studied a prayer book at the shrine of Limerance, met the High Lord of Grayson, accidentally compared her to my great grandmother -- look, these things happen, all right? -- and possibly threw imaginary water at a nice swordswoman (hammerwoman?) of my fealty who has pretty great hair. I also attended a bread making competition where the Thrax showed people how to make hardtack, at which I performed just as badly as you might expect.
It's interesting to think of, really: that we turn the a life or death skill for our people into a game that we play for fun, as a fundraiser? Yet I can't say that it wasn't a fun game! But it does make you stop and think, doesn't it? Of what you owe your liege? Of what you owe the commoners under your protection? Doesn't it make you wonder what Limerance would think? Perhaps I will ask a priest!
I can imagine Tibault's expression telling him about it and it makes me laugh just sitting here writing!
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