Tessian Silene: A Promise to Mother

[Wildelf]

*A small, unremarkable blue booklet contains some moderately nice-looking words made with charcoal stick pencils.*

Writing.

I'm not fond of writing. It takes a long time, and it's very complicated sometimes. Plus, it's boring, because I already know what I'm writing. To make things worse, I constantly think that Meri is looking over my shoulder. I feel like an owl the way I keep looking behind myself. But, I promised mum. She said: "Tess, if you ever get married, you have to promise me to keep a booklet of your daily thoughts, so you can always keep things in perspective." In a saner hour I would have been leary about making that promise, but I was ten, so I thought that the idea of my ever getting married was ridiculous. There's something notably unsettling about having your thoughts laid bare for all to see, if someone so much as opens a notebook. I don't know why I'm so paranoid about that idea all of the sudden, but it's true.

As for you, the thoroughly strange and likely unstable archaeologist who might be reading this: I am sorry that you have found my booklet as an example of life in ancient times. You will only hear from me that our women are bawdy and wanton, and our men are single-minded, egotistical, and boorish. The only way to keep one's sanity is to feign madness on a daily basis. That being said, I bet that you, in the future, are probably at a time where women are so wanton that they are practically like men, and that men are so irresponsible and barbaric that the women want nothing to do with them except for one night at a time. In my experience, humanity does nothing but worsen, so I give you my condolences, and strongly suggest investing further research into a time warp spell. If you come back in time, I would be happy to show you around the ancient world, and give you a fine breakfast while we exchange stories of our eras. You *do* have pancakes in the future, yes?

But, I digress. I probably won't chronicle epic novels like I see Meri do all the time, but I will keep my promise and write down my thoughts. My thoughts for now?

WOW!!!

I figured the honeymoon would be nice, but I never quite expected this. It's more than I ever imagined. (Note to Meri if she sneaks a look on this page: Sorry! I didn't mean to imagine it! …but I did.) Meri is utterly gorgeous. I could lie next to her and just quietly look at her for ages and ages. Her scars don't dissuade me. They're such a perfect symbol of healing: the healing that she's experienced within from being married. It's so wonderful to be able to be so close after all this time...to wake up and see her first thing in the morning...to share words before getting out of bed...to eat together...it’s all so much more wonderful than I expected. We haven’t even given thought about where we’re going to live. But let that come second. For now, we have time together, and I think we should relish it like a honey-fruit-and-cream-covered pancake.

The thought still plagues my mind, though: was Selah serious about scrying on us last night?

[Wildelf]

Addendum:

And to Selah, if you're scrying on me writing this: I do like Meri's honey cakes more than pancakes..."if you know what I mean."

[Wildelf]

A thought crossed my mind today about oceans. Why do they have such big waves? I thought about a bathtub, and when you drop a wooden duck into the water, it makes little ripples. I'm not saying that the ocean might be some creature's giant bathtub. (Though I might say that publicly just for fun.) Instead, I assume that the ocean is being rippled by lots of movement. Maybe the whales and fish and things. There's a lot in the ocean, after all.

I've got to learn to concentrate. This is supposed to be about myself and Meri...not oceans or any other random thoughts.

It's very nice and quiet here, with only the...occasional visitor. Odd luck, that. Anyway, watching how she acts, I think Meri isn't used to quiet or peace. It's a very odd character trait, but understandable, all things in perspective. I want to make the most of this time, which is why I really don't want to write any more than I have to already (sorry, mum...I'm sure you would understand.) With her being who she is, I worry that we'll be lacking in peace and companioned solitude for most of our future lives. I'm young, but not naive. Love doesn't truly conquer anything. It doesn't save anyone. It's just the people who have love, and their determination. I for one have more faith in the virtue and loyalty of Meri and my loyalty to her than any bubbly (if wonderful) feelings we have for each other. I think that we're both responsible (at least, she is) enough to stick together like two bugbears in a mudslide however turbulent things get. I know I'll try to be. I'll do anything for her.

Pancakes...yes. I promised to teach her about those. The family secret recipe. It's been in the family for one whole generation. I'll get to that sometime soon.

[Wildelf]

And Selah, if you're still scrying on us, then I hope you realize just how sick and creepy you are. In fact, if anything, I'd say you're jealous!

[Wildelf]

There is a very simple enchantment to waking up with someone you love next to you. Somehow you feel that you'll never be alone today, and that any troubles that come against you, you won't have to face by yourself.

Curiously enough, last night I dreamed that I was snoring horribly, rather like Brother Marcus. Yet, for some reason, I was awake. Then I realized that it wasn't me snoring. I looked over to my left and Selah was lying there next to me, snoring like a thunderstorm. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open and I heard a literal thunderstorm issue from her mouth. She said: "I'm always watching you!" and then starting dancing around the room in a pink dress. Then she started prancing around the bed saying: "Scrying, scrying, scrying while you're lying." I threw a pillow at her, and knocked her flat. When she stood up, she became livid with wrath, and then she cast a spell on me and turned me into a newt. Fortunately, I got better.

It was very strange. Especially the part where she was petting me (as a newt) and calling me Snookums.

Egads, Selah. You have me on edge this week...

[Wildelf]

Why can't anyone leave her alone? It seems that every evil in the Realms congregates at her front door and has a breakfast party. It seems to me that in her whole life, if she's not being tortured and abused, she's being threatened and psychologically ripped apart. This is so much worse than anything you ever knew, Mum. I wept for you so often. Why not for her? Is my sorrow for her pain coming out in anger and resentment? I think so. I'm watching your life over again, from a new perspective. An even closer one. Even her adventurer friends, while helpful, are destroying her. All the time, they commiserate and say how sorry they are about her. They don't even seem to understand that Meri's sorrows are not made lighter by saying how awful they are. Not that I would expect adventurers to understand this, anyway.

What possessed my dear brother to follow those sword-and-spell-wielding fools? I curse them and their ignorance. If they hadn't lured him into a "new life" he would still have life. And if he had still lived, you might've, too, Mum. I'm sure up in your heavenly sphere you might be displeased by what I think, but adventurers are heroic scum, willing to slaughter anyone and anything for a pouch of coins, a potion, even a bit of practice! What cold-blooded villain kills living creatures merely for personal exercise?! Even the good-natured ones succumb to a life of bloody waste, dragging good youths to horrible deaths. There are...noble ones, of course. Jonas, for one. But look at him. Domestic life is no more for him. The adventurer's way is bloody and separating, full of enemies and trauma that cut you off from a normal life. Just like Meri. There may never be a normal life for her. For either of us.

But for now we can have a normal life. I'll make it my goal to enjoy all of it...not that it will be a hard task to do so. I don't know what will happen when we return, but they'll be coming for me soon--whoever the "they" enemies of the week are. Coming for me--the weakest link in the chain. I might be seeing you soon, Mum, but I pray I don't. I can't leave her. All those times that father beat you, ravished you, or cursed you...give me that endurance. It's been in the family for two generations.

[Wildelf]

Great. Of all the lovely abandoned cottages in the world, we had to choose the one with a surly dwarf squatter.

Now that we've been evicted, Merielle has been talking about going to stay with the elves, if they'll permit it. I have mixed feelings about this, myself. While the elves likely have a very romantic outdoor sort of home, and they have a very carefree attitude most of the time, I'm dubious about staying with them. For starters, my Elven is not very good. The last time I stayed with elves I accidentally complimented a young woman on her "sweet buttocks" and accidentally asked to eat their children.

Also, what if they have some sort of strange welcoming ceremony where they all dance in a circle around us...while naked...perhaps wearing a garland or something? Or maybe they'll watch Merielle and I. Ugh. I have horrible shudders just thinking about that...AND I'm starting to think about Selah again.

I just don't understand elves, and my meetings with them have been poor. We'll see how it goes.

[Wildelf]

Of all of the places in the world I have ever visited, it seems like the Sword Coast is the most miserably misfortunate. If something can go bad here, it will. If something evil can rise out of the depths of ultimate darkness, it will. If a yogurt delivery wagon can be assaulted by sixteen-foot kobolds, it will.

Honestly, they should just make a travel brochure for the Sword Coast:

"Come to the Sword Coast and see the sights!

Come see our villain-of-the-week, in all of his melodramatic glory, as he attempts to destroy everyone and everything in a three-hundred-mile radius!

Come see our egomaniac heroes as they battle with said villain with spell and sword, usually never giving a second thought to anyone with less shiny equipment than themselves!

Come see our beautiful coastal properties, but be careful--you might get eaten by one of our hundreds of native man-eating creatures!

Come see our beautiful towns, but only when they're not being sacked by hordes of creatures whose mobilization without resistance defies all logic.

Remember to pay attention to our mighty Flaming Fist law enforcement, but you really don't have to, because the egomaniac adventurers get the credit for everything!

We look forward to seeing you soon!"

[Wildelf]

It is very nice to spend our time here, among the elven people. Their home is beautiful. It's such a romantic setting with the river, the trees, and the hiding places in the honeysuckle vines. I'm beyond impressed at the hospitality and cordiality that the elves show to us.

My only other visit among elves was not quite as pleasant. I had nearly run out of supplies while halfway through Tethyr, when I stumbled upon an elven settlement. They welcomed me somewhat cautiously, not the friendliest sort I could have expected. They barely spoke Common. I think they were wild elves, or something. Fortunately, I proved my lack of ill intent rather quickly with my own devious charms, and a sideways head-tilt half-smile.

The trouble is that my poor knowledge of the Elven language proved to be my downfall. I immediately visited their bakery (who wouldn't?). The young elven lass there was very sweet, and had just finished taking a sheet of hot rolls from the oven. They looked delicious, and I said so! The problem was that I seem to have mixed some words. Instead of saying "Your rolls look delicious!" I seem to have said "Your buttocks look delicious!" After sustaining a few bruises from a rolling pin before explaining what I meant to say in Common, I made a swift retreat. I honestly don't think she actually believed me.

I returned to the home of the elves that were granting me hospitality. The mother and father were seated by the fireplace, watching their children. I had been talking with them as best I could for most of the evening.

Now, here's an interesting point about foreign languages. They usually do not use the same idioms that we use. For example, if you were to say that you were "ruling the roost" to a dwarf, he would look at you like you're daft. Or if you were to say that you were "burning your candles at both ends," a gnome might give you new candles and advise you to use one end at a time.

Above all, do not use the idiom of "I could just eat 'em up" in regards to saying that someone's children are cute or adorable. I promise you that they will take your statement literally, and chase you out of town.

It was a bad day.

[Wildelf]

I must give a very sincere apology, Mother, for avoiding this simple promise. I truly do not like writing in this book. I feel so eerily vulnerable leaving my mind open on paper like this. What if someone were to read this? I couldn't imagine what they might learn. The fact is, Mum, I'm going out into very uncomfortable territory with this notebook, and I truly hope that you appreciate it. I love you so much, Mum.

It has been lovely to have a place of my own--our own. I hadn't had a real house and home since I left you. This is far more than I even thought to look for. A quiet place, a comfortable place, just outside of the city and just inside its protection. Nothing can save us from the children, though.

Children are, as you doubtless knew, Mum, the most lovable yet impish and selfish (if not spiteful) creatures. It's quite a task to be ensuring the safety and well-being of just one child for a pair of young married folk. It's another entirely to care for a dozen or more! After the unfortunate Noodle Incident, I nearly lost my temper in front of Meri. Good heavens...that would have been terrible. Despite waking up one morning to find the kitchen painted with flour, or having frogs put in your bath (which, I admit, was rather fun, actually...), the little dears never lose my love.

The way they cling to Meri reminds me of myself with you...so very long ago. The way they cling to me makes me wonder how I might have been, if my father had been someone else.

[Lord Tanthos]

Poor, dear girl. I almost weep for her some days. She thinks I'm asleep, but I've spent too many years sleeping with one eye open. If she moves or clasps my hand, I know it, even though I usually fall asleep again within seconds. I sometimes catch her staring wide-eyed at nothing at all, or squirming ... writhing... in her sleep.

What can I do, Mum? What can I do when someone like Meri has suffered an unnatural amount of pain and breaking, and I hardly even understand, much less identify? I feel so unable to help. I can only do what I have always done, but it doesn't feel like enough. No matter what I do, she's terrified. I do what I must, because I can.

Perhaps...thinking of you, I do understand a little. Broken, hurt, and dehumanized in every sense of the word. This is a twisted world. What hope or dream makes us continue to live, and desire to survive? Is it the promises of pleasures in life, or the hope of betterment in death? Is it both? I don't know.

I'm going to have Polly fly some roses to Meri today. She'll like that, I think.

[Lord Tanthos]

I'm not really a poet, though I often talk like one, I admit. The problem with poetry is that it's supposed to sound serious. I don't like that for my own writing, as beautiful as that sounds. And besides yet, my love for Meri isn't austere and formulated. It's free, happy, and bright. So...I'll see what I can come up with in an afternoon by the river. I'll give it to her if I make anything good.

_____________________________________________________________

Merielle's cute, cuddly, and kind.
With a beautiful heart and a beautiful mind.
I love her small toesies
That smell like sweet rosies.
Her legs are nicely refined
And nicely designed
With hips that I find
Are nicely aligned.
She has a soft, warm belly
That somehow reminds me of maple jelly.
Speaking of jelly, I would like some toast.
Meri's a cook whose skill I will boast.
Where was I? Oh yes, I'm up to her navel...
Which, oddly enough, does not rhyme with gavel.
I need to say *something* about her bellybutton...
It's tender and pink-whitish...reminds me of mutton?
Let's skip some space and examine a hand,
A dainty white thing that I do not find bland.
Attach are her arms, which are my sweet pillows,
And nearby her enrapturing hair that billows.
Her neck is a kissable path to her head,
That I may enjoy (now that we're wed!)
Oh, goodness me, I'd fill up this place
With words upon words for her beautiful face.
Meri makes my heart jump like a frog,
And lie around silly like a turtle on a log.
Checkers with Meri is my favorite game.
I know you won't understand by the name.
I know that there were some parts that I missed,
But there I think I will cease and desist.
To mention those other features, I say,
Would make this poem very, very risque'.
Perhaps I'll spent some other time
To give her more intimate features a rhyme.
And with a whisper in her lovely ear:
"Guess what I say about this, my dear."
Excuse me now please, as I creep through the house
To hand this love-poem to my lovable spouse.

[Lord Tanthos]

You know, mum, it's quite a strain being married to Meri. I won't discount the many joys, pleasures, and comforts. But right alongside those are so many stresses and pains: fear of death, fear of separation, fear of pain, fear for her life, fear of my capability, fear of shame, and even raw physical pain.

Lately, with all of the pain and trouble around us, I've been sleeping poorly...and eating less. I'm so desperate for peace and quiet that only Meri affords these days. I wish to sneak away from all of the discomfort. It might be foolish, but I would greatly enjoy a few minutes under a tree and out of sight.

I still remember how much you were hurt by father, mum. It reflects in how I see Meri today. Every tear from her eyes reminds of two of your own. The pain in it is threefold. It's so much to bear. What can I do? I feel so worthless these days, nothing more than an archery target that everyone is guarding. Targets can't move, act, or prove useful in any way. Neither can I.

It's a very delicate balance. I'm keeping Meri happy, and she is keeping me happy. It's so sweet, and I feel so energized by the symbiosis. But at the same time, if one of us collapses in this way...what then?

What will happen when if I can't take it anymore?

[Lord Tanthos]

It seems, dear Mother, that I once again prove myself to be thoroughly irresponsible! I just dug this old diary out of that trunk by the bedside (under where I hide my candied chestnuts from Meri so that she doesn't scoff the lot of them) while I was packing up for Zazzyspazz. (I know that’s not what the place is called, but it’s more fun that way…and easier to remember.) I quickly packed it away, declaring that I “simply hadn’t the time to write,” and now, on this quiet evening, I have found it once again, and I am now without an excuse. I must write. Bother.

At last, I can share that cottage I always dreamed for with my beloved. I have managed the deal with a local landlord by the name of Lavender Gooms, a no-nonsense fellow despite his much-nonsense name. Needless to say, we have had a few misunderstandings already due to my disposition against seriousness coupled with his very serious nature. But don’t worry, Mum. I’ve become a bit less outrageous lately. A little maturity and a little sense have taught me not to joke too excessively about some things—particularly Jonas’s mannerisms. I respect and admire the man, but his finery and stature reminds me too much of my old Uncle Olaf, whom I am sure you will remember. While I believe that they are very possibly the last hope for humanity, I find a great deal about paladins worth jesting about. Though I’d say that if I held the fate of the world on my shoulders, I’d probably be a good deal more serious, too.

Let me say this, Mum, with absolute veracity. I have been saving this delightful surprise for last. Obviously, this is not the last thing that I am going to write about, but because I could not wait to *actually* save this surprise for last, I did not, and I am now telling you all about it prematurely. BABY! Yes! Baby, baby, baby, oooooh! We have a baby! Or, if I were to say this in Jonas’s voice: “I have fathered a child.” (See? It’s just too fun!) In fact: “With the strength of the Triad and the power of righteousness I hath impregnated mine own wife, and from this feat has come mine own offspring.” Ahem, sorry. But seriously—who am I kidding, I am never serious. I am a father, Mother! Er, not to say that I am a father mother, but that I am a father, Mother. Note the karma. Or kama…whatever that , mark is called. Though in a roundabout way, you might say that I am a father of mother. Meri and I have decided to name the child after you, in part, Mum. Matilde Anne Silene. Meri wouldn’t hear of having the “y” in Mathylda, so it’s a little different. But still, it’s certainly your namesake. It pleases me to no end to be able to continue the family name. Not so much because I am proud of it, but because I want it to be better. I want it to be worthy of the woman who married into it: you. The name Silene is a proud and honorable name, because I declare it to be so, starting with this generation, with a saint at its head. I speak not of Saint Merielle, but of you. The saint that started everything right for us all. In retrospect, though it was often a nuisance for a newly-wedded couple, living in an orphanage has perfectly prepared me for all of this fathering business the first time through. Meri took the whole birthing experience rather well. I don’t mean to sound disrespectful, after all, she’s the one that said it, but the pain of childbirth was like happy fun times for Meri by comparison. A local druid of Chauntea assisted with the entire process most expertly. I can see how they might be good at that sort of thing. After all, if you can deliver a baby wolf, why not a kid, right? Despite all this, I wasn’t too happy with having to wait outside while Meri was making anguished sounds. Fortunately I was soon rewarded by the sound of a baby crying! And that was that. Heh. Sounds a lot simpler when I talk about it. I wonder what Meri would be writing?

I often thought that perhaps I’d never understand Meri’s pain, or that I would never feel adequately connected to her past to be able to empathize with her fully. This comes from the same way that I never really understood your pain fully, either, though I knew what was going on. To my surprise, though, I’ve experienced something truly unbelievable. I understand everything. Absolutely everything. It seems as though my heart and soul has just started to connect to her so deeply that I need no explanation or experience: I just know. I can feel it, like it were a part of me as well. I was always told that the sweet feeling of “being in love” would slowly fade while married, but I never once was told that it would be replaced by an incredibly deep feeling of intimacy. And…we haven’t even been married all that long. What will we feel in twenty years or so? What will we know of each other, then?

Not long ago I’d not have dared to predict living another year, much less twenty. I’m so happy to be here, away with my sweet Meri, in Zazzyspazz. I’m cut out for travel and adventure. I enjoy the thrill of an escapade and I enjoy the retelling of it even more. But now, I realize that I want to sit at home. Quietly, in peace. It’s something I never had before. Meri never had it before, either. Now we enjoy it together. I’ve been so hard on myself all this time, never daring to compare myself with any of Merielle’s numerous, capable guardians. Paladins, clerics, monks, shady characters: whatever else. In a sword fight I’d probably get knocked flat rather quickly against any of them. They did all the fighting. They won the battles. I think though, if I may be so presumptuous, that I have won the fight far greater than any of them. With words and deeds of a tender and caring nature, I have re-arranged the brokenness of a woman, abused and neglected beyond all imagination. All while learning how to act like a proper, responsible individual, I claimed the heart and soul of a Saint and was freely given it to cherish forever. All while shaking in fear and apprehension, I comforted a girl beset by terror and worry. A year ago I might have asked what sort of love story this is—where the girl goes to the man who had done nothing to save her from her enemies? How wrong I was. In her eyes every morning and every night I see it. I won the hardest battle that any of them ever fought—on ground that was sacred. Very few men could even have dared to do this. I look at her, Mother, and I realize that I am being what father ought to have been for you: the ultimate rescue from the deeper pains. I’m being what you wished he could have been. I have only you to thank for this.

I don’t expect I shall write again. I am very sorry, Mother, but I simply cannot do it. It’s very taxing and forgettable for me. I’ll catch you up later when I can speak to you in person, hm? I’ll tell you about your granddaughter. Polly loves her. I think she can somehow sense she’s linked to you. Polly won’t leave her side for hours at a time. I sometimes worry that the bird will spark some wild magic on my little baby, but so far it has all been safe.

Be proud of me, Mother. I never imagined I would amount to this much.

Your beloved son,
Tessian