Dear journal ...

Do I want to start this in such a kitsch way? I believe I do, and it is my journal, so I shall.
I have to say it has been the best year ever. Once I got over the fact of never waking up to a dry pillow again, the fact that the dowry included a moose, the snoring, and the crumbs all over the sheets, I can see the appeal in this whole bonding thing. I suppose it also helps I am bonded to my best friend in the world.

Sadly, the raids have been coming thick and fast lately, so I suppose I shall have to get used to being an Order Widow, as I call it; but he has a job to do, and he will do it very well, if we all pull together and keep them updated. The Order can only work with the information they have, and they can only get that information if people keep them ... well ... informed. Regrettably ferries, healers, and guild halls seem to be the main attraction; and just last turn the doors of the temple in the Holy City got a good old gouging. So far, thank gods, our little haven has not been attacked yet, and our beloved guild home remains unscathed, thus far.

However, in the midst of all this, I woke up to what has to be, the best gift I have ever received (apart from that time I got to hit him over the head with a bouquet!). Three mornings ago, I woke up to a parchment on my pillow, telling me that I was now officially registered in the lands as Mrs. Fireblade. You would think I would be used to the name after all this time, but it still made my tummy turn somersaults, and I admit I jumped straight out of bed, killed the demons that were thoughtlessly roaring outside our gates, then set straight about practising my signature again. My F's still look really weird, but I'll get them there.

There's not a lot more to tell, really. The brief respite and peace we once all knew appears to be over, but nothing lasts forever. Besides, if we don't go through all the bad stuff life throws at us, both individually, and has a collective whole, how do we know what good things look like, or learn to appreciate them? I firmly believe you need to know dark times, to recognise the good ones. (Which will be so much easier to do if I never woke up to cookie crumbs, each turn!) Some things will never change ... and I, for one, couldn't be happier about it.

I love you, babe. Crumbs and all. Always!

(I really do need to work on my F's ...)