It might be said, should any eyes, other than my own, fall upon this diary, that I am prone to prolixity. Perhaps this is true, but it is my diary, and I have no particular audience, other than myself, in mind. And should some hapless historian come across these diaries years from now, well, I shall not be around to be offended by their criticism. For tonight, though, I shall restrain myself, as my attention is elsewhere. My beloved Gwyn managed to escape the sithen for a few hours, and we have managed to spend a night together. She sleeps for the moment, but when she wakes, I do not want to waste precious time together putting words on paper when I could be doing something else.
There was a long discussion in the tavern between Orie, Ket’Lyn and myself, concerning our position with respect to the other factions on the island. Orie was taking a somewhat gung-ho, jingoistic view of things; talking about arming the village heavily, forming a stronger alliance with the demons, and perhaps most worrying of all, seriously considering using the alliance to destroy one of the courts, as a message to the other courts that we are not to be messed with. Naturally, this went against everything I believe, and so I had to argue for the diplomatic side. I also do not think he fully understands what we are up against. I can not entirely blame him, since his prior experience has largely been with the human enemy, who, at worst, may be more heavily armed, or have a greater strength in numbers. I tried to explain, yet he persisted in viewing the Huntsman, for example, as nothing more than a large, vicious dog that just needs whacking on the nose to get it to stop misbehaving. Perhaps he will learn. I did not want to argue with him too much, as we may well need his military strength and experience, should diplomatic solutions fail.
On my way to the tavern, one of the servants gave me a note from Aoibheann. I feared what might be in this missive, given our recent conversations, and was worried that it might be a note saying she was going on her expedition alone, so as to not put the rest of us in danger. But no, instead it was something completely unrelated and surprising. She had an idea for a story, but since she believed me to be the better writer, perhaps I could do something with it. I don’t know quite what her idea was, save that she felt it had to include blue faerie penguins that live in a maze of pergolas in the desert in Australia. Though she had managed to butcher the name of the country sufficiently that it took me a while to work out what she meant. She must have heard of that land after she came to Jasper Cove, because I am fairly sure Australia had not been discovered in her time. I have no idea why she wants me to write such a story, but it would be an interesting challenge. I have no exercised my creative writing muscles in some time.
The highlight of the event, for me, was the arrival of Gwyn, who snuck in, unannounced, to the tavern while we were arguing strategy. I was, of course, highly delighted and demonstrated this with hugs and kisses. Eventually, I made introductions, but I was not really that keen on staying and being sociable with anybody but my love. Orie and Ket’Lyn, by now, had drifted onto the subject of comparing their martial skills and squaring up to show each other, so I made our excuses – that there was an art project that had been too long neglected – and we left, proceeding with alacrity to my cottage and into each other’s arms. Of that, I shall write no more, save that I write this with a more contented smile than I have worn for some time.