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Friday, December 16th, 2005
10:16 pm - [milliways.]
He's starting to question this -- wondering very much what kind of dream leaves him possessed of faculties like hunger, and sleepiness, and others.

The morning is a grey one; he stands at the window, arms folded loosely. Behind him sleeps his wife. Alive.

Alive.

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Thursday, August 19th, 2004
9:01 pm
And now that it is over, I feel the strange cloud settling in on my mind again -- as though I were granted clarity for this brief time only. I must write this quickly, and I have a feeling that I will not remember writing this later.

I do not remember where or how I found this story, only that it was captivating. A long-gone kingdom, where the king was weak and prepared to capitulate to invaders -- but his young son and his bard refused to give up. The bard asked the boy if he wanted to save his kingdom, and when the young man said he would do anything, the bard took him out of the castle, past the encroaching army, and to an alder grove.

The bard cut branches from the trees, and how they bled -- so much that the sap stained the bard's hands, and when he passed the branches to the boy, the sap stained his hands, too -- they both looked like they had been killing things.

"Now," said the bard, "you will come with me."

Holding their branches, they stood in front of the army as they charged -- and how the enemy laughed, for who could expect to defeat an army merely by brandishing alder before them?

And yet -- when the first swordsman cut through the wood, spilling more sap on the ground, warriors sprang from the lifeblood of the tree. The army could not cut down these tree-men. And in their fury, the enemy cut the wood into smaller and smaller pieces, from which even more new warriors were born.

The first swordsmen held a weapon called the Kaeling. The castle was Castell Dinas Bran. I do not know why this is important.

The enemy was defeated by the alder-men, and as soon as the last of the enemy fell -- the man holding the Kaeling -- but was it a man? the alder-men fell to the earth, became the lifeblood of the tree once more, and soaked into the soil. The boy and bard went back in the castle -- and this is where the story stops...isn't it? Wasn't there something more?

I think the fog is descending once more. If only I could remember...

No matter. It is just a story. Only a tale. The verse was pretty, as I recall...but I can't even remember that. What is wrong with me?

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Wednesday, June 30th, 2004
11:11 pm
It was quite tempting to have a bathe in the sea today in Aberdyfi -- a shame I had business to take care of. Next week-end is my train-trip to Aberystwyth...and then perhaps we shall see what we shall see.

Owen told me that Bran was to arrive home on the train, but he did not seem interested in my bringing him back with me. Funny, that. I've missed the lad -- although so has Owen, no doubt, and it will be good for the boy to see his father. An entire summer at home will do him much good, I should think.

Blod had a funny turn the other night -- so much so that I didn't feel right working on my...well. I don't even like to name it here. I tried to convince her to call the doctor, but she would have none of it. I fear I shall never understand women.

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Thursday, August 21st, 2003
2:26 am
It is a busy time on Clwyd Farm -- so busy that there has not been much time for things like this. I am feeling younger and younger every day, which is a good thing, considering how much work there is to be done.

It has been a very long time since I have felt this happy. I have even sat down at my harp again and started playing -- composing something, even. It feels good. It feels very, very good.

Private thoughts.Collapse )

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Friday, July 4th, 2003
11:13 pm
OOC note.Collapse )

Well. Between sheep and my Blodwen, I had forgotten this thing was here. I don't know why I'm writing in it -- it did always feel awkward. There is not much else to do -- she is asleep, and I cannot sleep, and I don't wish to disturb her.

It was odd when we came back -- they seemed to act as though she was never gone! I do not mind, as explaining would have been difficult. No, this is easier. This is good.

It is so lovely -- it's as though life has colour again. Walking into my hills isn't such a trial any more; even my knees aren't as creaky. Jen Evans told me a few days ago that I looked ten or fifteen years younger. I laughed at her, and when I told Blodwen, she laughed.

David told me something interesting the other day -- that young Rhys had found a boy out in the far ffridd, and that Jen had taken him in. I haven't been to see him yet, and my duties the past few days have been out in the hills, and not near the Evans house. Ah, well. I am sure Blodwen will go see him when she has a chance -- perhaps to give help to Jen; nursing a young stranger won't leave much time for keeping a house.

This is the happiest I've ever been. That journey to give the blade to the monster the red-haired man's master was not pleasant...but it's all worth it. Oh, yes.


Private thoughts.Collapse )

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Thursday, May 15th, 2003
12:39 am
A field trip.Collapse )

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Thursday, May 1st, 2003
6:32 pm
John gets a visitor and takes a walk.Collapse )

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Sunday, March 23rd, 2003
2:20 pm
OOC note.Collapse )

'For all my mind is clouded with a doubt.' John takes his evening stroll.Collapse )

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Wednesday, March 5th, 2003
9:55 pm
'What's a nice fellow like you doing in a place like this?' John, his room, Wednesday night.Collapse )

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Thursday, February 27th, 2003
12:32 am
A meeting. Bran/John, Wednesday evening.Collapse )

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Wednesday, February 12th, 2003
1:35 pm
Something wicked this way comes. Will/Bran/John, Wednesday afternoon.Collapse )

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Tuesday, February 11th, 2003
10:54 am
I have felt over the past several days as though I have been dreaming but have not been able to remember anything.

I can't remember anything. I sit in my room and stare out the window, and when I think only five minutes have passed, I look at the clock and see that two hours are gone.

What on earth is happening to me? Is it anything on Earth --

I remembered dreaming of her last night -- she told me it wouldn't be long.

I cannot take much more. I cannot wait much longer.

OOC note.Collapse )

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Friday, February 7th, 2003
7:59 pm
I have stayed in my room almost all the time, only venturing out at dusk -- I feel like some vile creature, waiting for prey.

But then again, I am waiting for something; I just do not know what it is. I have found that I am able to wait for what is to come. Something has given me strength that I did not know I had.

I will continue with my reading until -- until what?

Something will come for me, and when it does, I will be ready.

(I hope so badly that it is her.)

OOC note.Collapse )

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Wednesday, February 5th, 2003
10:06 pm
I thought I'd be hungry by now, but I am not -- which is just as well, as it is probably not a good idea for me to go out just yet. Not that any place would be open. I cannot believe I slept the day away. What am I to do all night? I did bring my copy of The Lord of the Rings with me...I suppose I will read.

Something is troubling me...on the mountain, the man came to me as a rider...and the horse was black.

What of it, though? It is no matter. I will make amends -- I have chosen again, and chosen correctly.

When will she be returned to me? When? I need her. I need her so badly.

Efforts of this evening -- private.Collapse )

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Tuesday, February 4th, 2003
7:52 pm
Log: Welcome to Cambridge. John/Rider.Collapse )

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Monday, February 3rd, 2003
9:38 pm
Bran...oh, Diawl, what does Bran have to do with all this mess? I love the boy as though he were my own -- we all who have watched him grow love him. Even Blod --

No. I cannot speak of her. What in the world did I do? I have been trying to remember all day long -- told David Evans I was ill and needed to stay home today -- and I just have little bits...the images from yesterday and something...a great blue sword, and a tall old man...and Blodwen, my Blodwen, screaming...

I have packed a bag and written a note to David Evans, which I will tack onto the door before I leave. I leave from the Tywyn station tonight at eleven and should be in Cambridge by five-thirty tomorrow morning.

I received a letter from Jane Drew today as well -- Blodwen liked her. I wrote a response and will post it from the station.

I have not been able to write Bran.

Although I suppose I will see him sometime -- if what that rider said was true, anyway...I cannot believe he has anything to do with this matter. It was my fault, the rider said so...but then why did the rider tell me to ask Owen where Bran was at?

I will not ask any questions. I must make amends. Simple men need to have faith.

Letter to Jane Drew.Collapse )

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Sunday, February 2nd, 2003
10:58 pm
Log: John Rowlands takes a walk. John/Rider.Collapse )

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Friday, January 31st, 2003
6:07 pm
I stopped reading The Lord of the Rings because I don't want to think any more about Ringwraiths. I picked up one of Blod's old books instead, some poetry -- and the first thing I read was this:

The world is for the living. Who are they?
We dared the dark to reach the white and warm.
She was the wind when wind was in my way;
Alive at noon, I perished in her form.
Who rise from flesh to spirit know the fall:
The word outleaps the world, and light is all.

Perhaps I will just stop reading altogether. Everything seems to combine to make me feel less sane. I think I will turn in early tonight as I do not want to risk another episode like last night -- I didn't sleep at all after I read that. I think I was afraid to try.

"Light is all" -- what does that mean?

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Thursday, January 30th, 2003
3:31 pm
I've been reading late at night to pass the time. It's pleasant, sitting in the old chair with a cup and some music and Pen snoring nearby.

I was in the east field again this morning when something strange crossed my mind -- I've been working my way through The Lord of the Rings, and a very good story it is, and I was thinking about it this morning. My knees went weak and I had to sit for a while.

The Ringwraiths, the Nazgul, seem awfully -- familiar. Not familiar in the way we know that Frodo is the hero and Strider's speech gets elevated when he acts more like a king -- it's...I feel I've seen a Nazgul before.

Have I? Or has it all been a dream, or am I just a lonely old man who's starting to go --

I can't write it. I don't dare think it.

I tried to start a letter to Bran this afternoon, but realized I had nothing to say -- "Hello, bach, the farm is fine and your father is fine and I'm going mad."

It may be a few weeks before I can pick up a pen, between what came out of it last night and letters I've not been able to finish. Oh, Diawl.

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12:07 am
I managed to be pleasant tonight, but had to leave early -- feeling ill, I was, although ill's not quite the right word for it. Perhaps unsettled. Something came out of the feeling, though. I'll put it away with the others. Although on rereading it...it didn't quite put paid to being unsettled.

Private.Collapse )

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