Gabriel dies, and Doyle helps me grieve.  The library, and Doyle rescued me.  Eleanor disappearing, and Doyle came with me to go find her.  He asked me to be his bloody oathmate!  I WANT to!  But I HAVE to ask the count first.  I HAVE to perform my duties.  It's who I am!  I think so, anyway.  I mean, I'm TRYING to protect him.  I WANT to look after his bloody family.  I've never felt anything for anyone like i do for Doyle.  I don't know what it means, but I do know I want to do what's best for him.  He's told me how dangerous it would be for me to know anything.  He's told me he wants to tell me everything.  I can't let him.  I can't be the person who betrays him.  I already know too much.

I know I'm in the right, so why do I hate myself so bloody much right now?  I stayed up all night, made sure he came back with me to Blooming Valley, even though "the woman he loves, his muse, his reason to keep fighting" told him -I told him- that I didn't love him, and I never would.

What does that make me?  I don't know if I love him.  I don't know if I would.  I told him I understood that he had to lie to me sometimes.  Hell, I TOLD him to!  He should understand if I have to lie to him to protect what I care about, and WHO I care about.  There are some who would wish him ill if he kept pursuing me.  There are some who would wish us BOTH ill if I let him.  I still want to be his oathmate.  I will defend his honor and his right to his title because he ISN'T common.  I know it.  So why can't I let him love me?  It's not just to protect me and my status- if it were that, I need only help him prove his nobility.  I'm trying to protect him.  I can take responsibility, but I can't risk knowing what he wants me to know-  I can't risk having that information whilst sworn to someone, even someone I trust, because the Count doesn't know Doyle and might think that his pretending to be what he's not... at least... what I think he's not... maybe he's that too.  I don't know.  But the Count might think he was a danger.  I can't even tell Eleanor what happened fully in Cancun.  Just that he drained himself of glamour and that I was feeling too close to being drained to enchant him enough to get him home.

He left me a note.  Even when he wasn't able to remember me... he left me a note saying, "I can't not love you.  Please remember that.  I love you."  How?  I don't understand what's going on!  I don't understand it, I'm tired, I'm sick with banality, and I just feel like I want to sleep for days but I can't.  I have to talk to the Count as soon as possible.  And I need to see Baroness Baum.  And I need to see to the childlings.  And I need to know if Doyle is all right.  I just need to talk to Jillian, and get rid of some of this horrible filth from around me.  I need to sleep in a freehold.  I hate this.  Boys are such trouble.  It's a wonder Miranda ever got anything done.



I hurt.
-Bran-

"I'm a loser, and I lost someone whose dear to me
I'm a loser, and I'm not what I appear to be."

Current Location: Tower Hold
Current Mood: sore
Current Music: I'm a Loser- John Lennon/Paul McCartney

Go on, mock my city.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/2698507.stm

Faggots, by the by, are FOOD.

Current Mood: amused
Current Music: I'm a Yankee "Doody" Dandy!

Doyle is getting to be a problem.  Not a bad problem.  Not a problem I necessarily want to solve.  Just... *sigh*  He's marvy.  Don't get me wrong.  He tells me a LOT, and then nothing at all, all in the same sentence.  Bloody pooka.  I'm so confused and frustrated, I waited almost a week to write about it.  He keeps telling me all about how he feels, about life, about his goals, about ME.  It's really far too forward, and I SHOULD give him a piece of my mind, or maybe even my steel.  But he's a Fiona.  It's not really his fault, I suppose.  He told me all about his plan to gain title and all, slaying a dragon.  He apparently told the COUNT how he feels about me.  I really should ring his neck, and part of me is surprised the count didn't.  I mean, Robert might have been okay with it, but I don't see Count Fletcher as the passionate, romantic type.  Apparently, he's got plans for his alter ego, and I really hope they come through for him.  I do care about him, but my GOD, he's asking me to potentially throw away my title and any chance of advancement... I tried to explain the way my house and indeed most of the nobles in court worked.   I did.  And I know he says he has a bright future, and feels he's a king or something.  Maybe he is.  But I have a future too.  And I don't know if I could get there if I risk it all now.  I know a knight dating a pooka is not the end of the world, but I JUST swore to the count, and I know what he'll say...
He even talked to a Goddess about me!  She gave him a ring with a dragon on it, though.  That was neat.  Maybe he will slay a dragon yet.  It's funny, I wish I could talk to her about MY dragon ring.  My da always said it was a bit like a horse, but I never really thought so.  It's bloody bizarre what Doyle and I have in common though.  I mean, the ring, the "feeling," the possessed people with scratches telling us that they know what we did, the oddly patchy memories.  I want to make him my oathmate, but it's so soon.  We only just lost Gabriel, and I just don't feel I can get that close to someone so soon.  Maybe that's my problem.  I have volunteered for an awful lot of late watch shifts lately at Tower Hold and at the Buskirk-Chumley Theatre.
And that's another thing.  I don't trust her.  She just happens to have the right things.  She just happens to be an enormous Beatles fan.  She just happens to have a beautiful home.  I mean, she offered to let me stay there- she just could see how jealous I was.  I wish I had some rich Duke to give me everything *I* ever wanted.  And she commented how odd it was that i was sworn to a count, but look at her!  Maybe she is genuine, but I promised Gabriel to watch her.  And all of those... changers... she's got a bloody army forming.  I just wish I could offer them something she couldn't.  Truth, Justice, all that rot is all I can offer that lot.  They do seem largely honourable, but... I dunno, maybe I can use my seeliedom to win them to the Gwydion banner and the Summer courts.  Kazuki, the bloke with the swords, he seems like he's the one who honor might touch the most.  If not, maybe Iris can wink at him till he wants to come to our side!  That's an unseelie thought if ever I heard one!
-The right honourable Lady Branwen ap Gwydion-

Current Mood: aggravated
Current Music: My own brain racing

I hate toilets.  I hate sinks with food bits, I hate bathtubs with hair in, I hate cat litter, I hate vacuums what explode in your face.  But I do love paychecks.  Funny thing about being in school in the U.S.-  it's LIKE having a green card, but not.  I can't WORK here.  Not legally.  Not under contract anyway.  Only through the school, and they have very little to give me this summer.  I am, therefore, working cleaning houses, house sitting, dog walking, and whatever else I can advertise I can do on Craig's List.  I make okay money, and the good news is, I can somewhat dictate my own hours, so it doesn't get too much in the way of my duties, but it is really frustrating.  I mean, some people are just handed it, aren't they?  Beautiful house, beautiful clothes, beautiful mountains of cash for school, buying yourself Beatles records that are damn near impossible to get, for getting yourself whatever you want without having to load things onto docks, or wrap breaded fish and chips in newspaper from a Mr. Chippy van, or scrub bloody toilets.  And one of them was.  Bloody, that is.  "Oh, Braaaaenwin, Ah'm sorry, but the tohlet's jist all stopped up.  You don't maaaahnd fixin' it up fer us, do yah?"  Dear Lord.  I have GOT to get a green card.

Hope you're all doing well!  Most of you what read this are from back home.  How are things?  I'd ask how's the weather, but I know already- drizzling with a chance of rain.

I miss you lot.
-Bran-

Current Location: up to my ears in grit
Current Mood: dirty
Current Music: Whistle While You Work

Well, I did it.  I was released from my oath to Baron Sutcliffe and I am now sworn to Count William Fletcher ap Gwydion.  I am a citizen of Concordia.  I know it's good for politics, but I had NO IDEA I'd feel this homesick.  I'm homesick for England, the Isle of the Mighty, for my da, even for Liverpool!  Liverpool with its fishy docks full of sweaty men smelling of Mersey water and smoking fags on a 10 minute break that's lasted an hour, taken up with talking about some bird that they shagged the night before.  Liverpool, with Lime Street Station plastered with old advertisements of local bands trying to get their start and be the next Beatles, bustling people hurrying past to get to their minimum wage jobs in the factories that weigh their souls down so much that they become fuel for the dauntain that inhabit our fair city.  I miss that.  Why?  I dunno, but it was home.  Robert was more than willing to let me go, but he still seemed so lonely.  I guess I'm lonely too.
Help, I need somebody, help!  Not just anybody...
I was just rewatching "Backbeat" last night, and I always loved this quote:
"John: Do you know what I like about Liverpool Mister Sutcliffe?
Stu: No, what do you like about Liverpool Mister Lennon?
John:  I was hoping you'd tell me!"
Onyroad, I want to go home.  Just for a week or something, but I want to go home.

Current Mood: homesick
Current Music: "Yer Blues," Beatles

Well, I gave the eulogy today for Baron Moonstar.  It was quite a nice memorial, actually.  I think he would have enjoyed it.  I did my pitiful best to sing for him- a song he'd had in his vast CD collection...
I'm sorry- I'm a bit pissed at the moment, so I don't expect that I'm making much sense.  This should be jolly fun to read tomorrow morning.  And by morning, I mean of course whenever I can pull myself out of bed and hurl myself into a cold shower to dash the migraine from my aching head.

I went to a somber party, then a jolly unseelie party that Gabriel would have HATED me going to but that I got some lovely Welsh mead out of, then a private bash on Lake Griffey.  Oh my sodding God.  My head's too bleeding soused to write the details here. 

Time to collapse.  Wake me in a week.
~Branwen~

Current Location: Bed
Current Mood: drunk
Current Music: I'm So Tired- Beatles

I just woke up a bit ago.  I'm amazed I was able to fall asleep, honestly.  Gabriel, my OATHMATE, is dead.  Lost to the Dreaming forever.  God, I need a drink.  No, I can't have a drink.  They'll come for me, I know it.  And I WILL be ready when they do.
This was the worst Beltaine ever.
And he kissed me.  Or I kissed him, rather.  He was trying to protect me.  I KNEW there were Shadow Court out for him, and I didn't do a runic circle.  I didn't do fuck all- I was so angry at everyone trying to get me to shag.  Everyone *except* he and Doyle.  Doyle stayed here last night with me.  If it hadn't been for him, I'd likely have killed that girl we found, though I'm not certain he didn't want to.  She killed the Shadow Court agent, but I'm not convinced she wasn't Shadow Court herself.  They could easily have sacrificed someone so that they could see who would come to Gabriel's aid and find out who they might need to kill, who might have information.  She was a pooka, and I couldn't read her beyond telling she was lying.
I will not let my guard down again.  Even on Beltaine.
I will see you avenged, my friend.  I swear it.

Doyle and I had a picnic.  It was lovely.  I really enjoyed it.  Bugger all!  He told me all about his feelings for me, and how, can you believe it, he and Gabriel had a talk about me, and said whoever WON me, they would still be FRIENDS!  I ought to string them BOTH up!  "Won me" indeed!  But I'm not angry at them.  I'm honestly very flattered.  And FLUMMOXED out of my skull!
I told them BOTH that I can't promise anything, and that I have this feeling...  I can't explain it, but I just feel as though I've an obligation to fulfill.  I can't tell you what it is.  I haven't the foggiest, but it's like I'm betrothed already or something.  I know I've a lot to accomplish with my life.  Funny how 2 years ago, I didn't feel any real drive at all.  I thought at most I'd move to Sheffield and get a job down at factory or something.  Maybe I'd go to uni one day, and become an artist or maybe an editor of a paper or a writer for the football column.  Now I feel as though... I dunno, maybe it was Doyle talking about being meant for bigger things.  I just feel like there's something big I've yet to do, or something I am that I'm not living up to.  Maybe I'm stupid and I should just confess to being a dock working, football loving, lager drinking scouse git and have done with it.  I mean, who knows, I could be given Robert's Barony someday, if he makes Count.  Of course, I'd have to marry a Fiona, but there are worse fates.  At any rate, I've GOT to stop MOONING over boys all day.
PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER, BRAN!  You're a Gwydion!  Bloody ACT like one!
Right.  Going off to change the guard now.
Bloody Boys.

Current Mood: aggravated

Well, journal, it's been a tale, let me tell you.
Where to start?  Well, I suppose let's start with the biggest:  I am now sworn to Gabriel.  He asked, and it just felt like the right thing to do.  He's a great man, and it's an honor.  I mean, I joined his army some time back, and I trust him with my life- bizarre given what he showed me he had on only the second time we met...
But he and I agreed that we would do what we could to keep Baroness Baum from seeking too much power.  There are too many Eiluned in charge here.  I talked to her Duke today, and he seemed quite sensible, so I think perhaps we may be alright for now, but I'm still concerned, and I believe that Count Fletcher ap Gwydion is as well.  Another great man.  And quite dashing for an older gentleman.  I don't know what it is about Gwydion men.  I mean, Fiona are *more* dashing, yes, but a Gwydion carries such class, such finesse...
I suppose I may be a bit biased.  :)

Well, after all that, I met with Gabriel, as well as a few others later for dinner- Morgan, Iris, and Doyle of all people.  Gabriel shocked me out of my senses telling me that I was vibrant, full of life, and astoundingly beautiful or some such thing, and that he was quite taken with me.  I mean, he actually said that he didn't know he could feel like that again since his wife died.  And then before I could really think it through, everyone else turns up!  Don't get me wrong, I was honored and not unpleased to hear it, but he'd been so courtly about it heretofore!  It quite took my breath away.  I expect that sudden confession from a commoner, or from a Fiona or something, but Gabriel had been so formal...  but he was sincere.  And his sincerity touched me.  Well, he invited me to the Count's pre-Beltaine festivities, and I naturally said yes, and I'm quite looking forward to it.  I'm not sure what my feelings for Gabriel are, but... I do care for him.

Many things bewilder me.  Maths, magics, men...
I mean, I'm not complaining, but...  men are confusing.  I went several years getting, "Oi Darlin'" out of boys at Lime Street Station, and so I know I'm worth looking at, but suddenly I feel desirable.  It's odd.  I mean, I've always thought I was the dog's bollux, clearly.  But boys never thought that way.  I had a boyfriend for almost a year who clearly found me attractive, but didn't seem to care for my personality, because he got frustrated I wouldn't shag him and buggered off.  Good riddance, really.  I've had dates.  I've had two boyfriends.  Almost three, but I've just found that since my Chrysalis, I'm not interested in regular men.  Fair play to him, he was a looker, and quite impressive at football and even snooker, but he just... well.  I haven't known that many men my own age who are like me.  Mostly Baron Robert's friends.  I guess with us, age isn't as important.  I've met some older men who are just fascinating.  Honestly, Robert would have turned my head if I hadn't known and respected Miranda.  (And worried she'd have chopped my head off!)  I wouldn't say I'm against dating a commoner- I just don't really see why I would.  I mean, it could never really go anywhere.  I've had pooka friends, and gone drinking with a pair of satyrs, and actually REALLY enjoyed the company of Robert's UNSEELIE redcap mate, Mad Jack McGlaughsky.  He was a laugh and a half, and not terrible looking, if you enjoy wode tattoos and morris dancing.
At any rate, I suppose I'm surprised at myself.  I judged Doyle too quickly, and he's actually a charming... date, I guess you could say.  I had thought he'd be fun when I first came up to him and he offered me a Guinness, disregarding my pointed ears, just seeing a bird from the British Isles who could use a drink.  He seems to actually like me though.  It's possible, I suppose, that he's just putting me on, but I don't think so.  He played a concert at Bear's place, and, what can I say but... IT BLEW MY MIND.  He was incredible.  I'd no idea he could play so well.  And he had a beautiful voice.  Almost McCartney worthy.  And he said it was all for me.  He was really dashing, and gave me flowers, and I had a really nice time.
So nice I said I'd love to do it again.
Bizarre.
I don't know what Gabriel feels about me, but I enjoy his company too.
Hang it all, I'm here to get a degree!  And to perform my duties!
Right, Branwen.  Go to bed.

Current Mood: distressed