From merrie@umich.eduThu Mar 16 18:36:33 1995 Date: Thu, 16 Mar 1995 18:32:11 -0500 (EST) From: Merrie Haskell To: thari@umich.edu Subject: Laughter's Interim Diary April 23/ 8 Saille, Year of Our Lord, 1614, Manor House, Foil St. George's Day An auspicious day that ended well. If I had paid any attention to the date in Foil, I would have known it was a day of victory. Alas, no, I did not kill a dragon this day. But... There's almost too much to think about. I suppose it was wrong to sit on the fact that Mother was asleep and under a spell from Brand for a whole week. But the fact is, if Bleys had been a little more responsive, I wouldn't have. He told me to sit tight and get Julian to take care of it. Well, good thing I didn't leap on that one, because he was *wrong*. After I sought out Julian, he came and surveyed the situation, and told me to kill the thorns that were growing around the house. I took my time, hoping Julian would take the initiative to go in and look at her and perhaps a thought would be born in his brain, but this didn't happen either. I came back from obtaining a strong dose of weedkiller in Foil to find Bleys and Julian standing uncomfortably next to each other. Bleys instructed me to send Julian away and get my father on the case, as the one and only trigger of the spell was supposed to be Mandor's kiss. Brand is such an ass! Anyways... I dosed the thorns and sent Bleys on his way, since he didn't deserve to observe what happened next, and I trumped Father. Father was unwilling to kiss her, and not for just the simple "My wife would kill me" thing, either. He said that Brand probably had a trap placed inside the trigger of the spell for him, and that wouldn't be cool. Agreed. Father left to go and figure something out, and I settle down to wait. Sure enough, Brand came tromping up the stairs, arrogant as you please, and asked me if I was the one responsible for killing his rosebushes. My first response was "Julian made me do it," but I bit that back and came out with "He who wishes his rosebushes to thrive should not plant them in other people's gardens." He then proceeded to ask me how he could have possibly offended me, and then asked if I had a predilection for lingering in cursed cottages. "Offense, sir? You've put my mother to sleep. I hardly see how you could have failed to give offense, unless you have arrived to awaken her." "Hmn, euthenasia. That's a thought." He obviously thought better of it when he saw the glint in my eye! "Now, I had most assuredly guessed that I would be offending Fiona to some extent, but since your time with 'mother' has been so entirely truncated, I had no idea that I would give you offense as well. I would have thought you would have been more firmly attached to your foster mother, you know, what's her name?" I nobly ignored this comment. "Actually, I'd dropped by to see how clever either Bleys or Mandor were, which is, not very, by the looks of things." He smiled at me, bold as a pig. "I hadn't really intended on staying all that long. Now, what is your dear father planning?" I answered: "I'm supposed to be able to read Mandor's mind?" "Well, being his daughter I thought you might know a few ins and outs. No, if I know the next King of Chaos, I would assume that he will examine this problem from every possible angle before raising a finger against it." It was at this point that Father trumped me. Brand said, "And tell your father I haven't ate you, yet." I replied, "Implying, of course, that I will some day be on your menu," just before Father pulled me through. I waited anxiously in Father's library til Brand left, and then Father gave me one of his special bundles of joy to place under Mother's bed. I Trumped back to her, placed what I hoped was the antidote beneath the bed, and went to scrounge some bread and cheese from the kitchen. I heard a loud explosion from upstairs and ran to see what the matter was-- Mother was just fine! Of course, upstairs was trashed.... But Mother seems to be up and at 'em again. Good thing... Brand's probably my enemy now, when he thinks of me at all. And I'm more than a little concerned about what effects there may be on Foster since he kissed me awake out of Brand's little doozy of a spell... May 16/ 4 Huath, Year of Our Lord, 1614, Manor House, Foil St. Brendan's Day This is the day of sailors, and all those who navigate by the stars. A good day to set off into shadow for a brief jaunt. I rode to Ygg to look around, since I'd heard of it some in Amber-lore, and much, much more in the lore of those in this shadow. Well, it's a tree. A big tree, good for a treeing, even greater for worship. I sat there much of the day, and meditated. I would that I could be a tree in my next life. Reincarnation probably doesn't function for Amberites, though. March 8/ 20 Nuin, Year of Our Lord, 1615, Manor House, Foil Felix and I had a very painful conversation today. I don't know if I hurt him, or if he hurt me, or if I made him mad or if he made me mad... I just don't know. Any way you look at it, though, Foster is old enough to make his own fortune in love now, good or bad. Elizabeth was that old. Rose was that old. I wasn't *that much* older... I mean, it's good to be concerned about your children and your friends, but... well, there's a limit there, somewhere, isn't there? When you become old enough that the affairs of the heart are conducted tete a tete rather than with your parents chaperoning... besides. Felix is only a few years older than me. If he chaperoned me, I couldn't take it. Oh, well. March 18/ 1 Fearn, Year of Our Lord, 1615, Manor House, Foil My brother is Jordan and my sister Emer, and my stepmother is all that is polite. Emer is not too much younger than me, and is quite pretty, and seems to like the notion that there is a Me in the universe. Jordan does not like this notion, however. It seems to rest on the fact that we look so much alike. It is a relief to know that Mandor's children are supposed to look like me, though... I was beginning to feel like a sport, since the only people who look like me are Ahab and Aunt Deirdre. Well, and the trumps of Corwin and Eric, I suppose. But no one has the hair and the eyes in quite the way Jordan does... except me. I don't know. I *like* the feeling that there is a place I belong, at least genetically. I'm by no means comfortable with the other aspects of belonging to that family, of course... You'd think Jordan would go for this too, but he doesn't. I guess he liked being the unique one. Hm. Wait til he goes out and finds that he's not unique by a long-shot... that there are infinite versions of him in shadow... that should shake him up just fine. December 21/ 28 Ruis, Year of Our Lord, 1615, Manor House, Foil Well, it got to that point. The point with Foster, I mean, where I had to ask him what's going on. I can't just let someone moon around me forever, can I? That would be wrong. Of course, the talk didn't seem to nip anything. I thought you could nip stuff in the bud up until the point you do something encouraging. Dammitall. I mostly just pointed out to him that there was far too much in the way of lifespans ahead of us, so we shouldn't be doing anything silly right now, when we're both too young and stupid to know better. Well, I didn't *say* it like that. "And what if my feelings don't change, Laughter?" That was not a fair question for him to ask, you know. I reminded him that we don't know each other very well, either. To which he replied, well, you got to know Ariana by having her help you with fencing, so I can just help you learn shapeshifting, and then we'll know all there is to know about each other. No, wait, the conversation gets better from here, I promise. I expressed doubt that I would be much good at shapeshifting, at which point he asked me who my father was... and I told him. And this is where it gets really maddening, where Foster got this absolutely terrified look on his face and said something to the effect that he doesn't even want to think about what kind of private hells Mandor would put him in if he messed with me in any way whatsoever. Private hells? Mandor won't even legitimize me. He won't be messing in my private life up unto the day he marries my mother, because that's the only way I'll consider myself well and truly his daughter to command. And even then, that "to command part" won't work. There. I've said it. I feel a lot better now, too. Anyways, we spent the rest of the evening sitting across from each other, failing to teach me a thing about shapeshifting. Oh, well... add it to my "to learn" list, I guess.... April 23/ 8 Saille, Year of Our Lord, 1616, Manor House, Foil St. George's Day Well, it's St. George's again, and since it all worked out so well last year, and the fact that it's a day for *conquering* dragons instead of being eaten by them, I decided to go visit Ironclaw. He's a swell fellow, really. I wanted to apologize to him, mostly, and he seemed to take this with a bit of surprise. I didn't do so well at the witty banter from that point on, but much better than before... Much, much better. Did you know that they have dragon-accommodating movies? Well, drive-ins, I guess would be the appropriate term. Dragon-ins, more appropriately. Anyways, he was all that was nice when he agreed to talk to me, so I could become more accustomed to being around dragons without as much fear... though, as he pointed out, it's probably wise to fear dragons. Indeed. Though fearing and peeing one's pants are too different things... He agreed to this. It was all very amiable... Only a little rush of adrenaline when I asked if I was very much like Libby, and he reminded me that there was only one way he would know that for sure. Hm. I guess they didn't talk all that much before he... well, you know. August 24/ 20 Coll, Year of Our Lord, 1616, Manor House, Foil St. Bartholemew's Day Wonder how Bart's doing, and if he knows it's his day? Well... it's probably any day he wants it to be, if he rides to the right shadow. The project for the blue roses continues. It's a conceit, of course, to want to wear blue roses in my hair that match my eyes, but I have so few vanities about my appearance, I may as well indulge them once in a while. Besides, I went to all that trouble to learn botany and bioengineering, I may as well put it to good use. Wonder what else I can do... populate my orchard with fascinating and new kinds of fruit trees? Yep. I can do that. Which of course brings to mind my other project, the forging of swords. Sequence gave me a long and resentful speech about betrayal (long for it, anyways). To which I replied, "You want Beauty to always be protected, don't you?" It had to agree with that. Ariana says that forging is good, relaxing exercise... I find it much more invigorating than relaxing... invigorating in that "I hurt, let me sleep" kind of way... 1 October/ 2 Gort, Year of Our Lord, 1616, Manor House, Foil A long and gratifying day.... woke this morning to mediate a squabble betwixt the Captain of my London guard and the Captain of the Dubliners. A useful exercise in diplomacy for Beauty to watch. Then Shard appeared to take her away to the theater for the rehearsal, since they are going on stage together tonight... She's young, but able, and the part is small... Then off to Amber for an almost grueling session with Ariana, who has far too much energy for a woman with four children... Then a brief lesson in shapeshifting with Foster, in which I mostly sighed and didn't grow any scales... Then I held open Grievances Court. A day not unlike so many other days, except that I learned Ariana is to marry Vetch.