#rowan's journal

[crownedwithashes]

📖 (I know its old but I'm going through your blog to see if I missed any threads and couldn't resist)

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His smirk was a fondly-formed thing, when he flipped to a page in his leather-bound journal that documented a somewhat troublesome time he’d had with Eve. It was a memory that proved just how difficult his now-fiancée could be. The recollection was funny to him, now, but he’d had to be highly persisting to get her to comply with him, at the time.

“I feel as if I’ve had to fight the lass tooth and nail for the duration of the day,” he began to read. “I don’t care what she did when she was younger, she’s staying in bed. I couldn’t believe my ears when she told me she planned to go out and make herself useful, while appearing to be the mortal representation of a Snowberry bush. When I touched her skin, it felt as though she’d come straight from the incident of Red Mountain. Her temperature is going down, now... and praise the Gods for it. I don’t know how much longer I can keep an unwillingly sedentary werewolf woman pent up in my house while she craves to run the thick of the wood.”

[crownedwithashes]

📖 on the subject of how sweet Farkas is

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“The man is positively hopeless,” Rowan began from the top of the page he’d chosen. “It’s been well-established that I am the one to make the bed in the morning after we’ve both sufficiently awakened, that I am the one to clean what dishware we’ve dirtied the night before, that I am the one to wash the clothes that need freshening when I am home, and set it up to dry. I am at peace with this domesticity. Farkas, however – the big, loving, thoughtful dolt that he is – decided to try his hand at all three.

I would have known of his efforts and taken over the household chores if he hadn’t been so crafty. 

To start, the sneaky bastard waited until I went upstairs to rouse Runa for breakfast to make the bed. I returned to our room to see the blankets strewn haphazardly on the mattress, and the pillows thrown into a questionable pile.

Knowing I was to go into town that very day with Runa so she could do a bit of shopping for herself at Graypine, he scrubbed the dishes while I was out. There was a bit of clumsiness on his part, however, that resulted in a stack of ceramic plates shattering on the ground. I saw him sweeping up the pieces in the kitchen when Runa and I returned home, but there was no true anger to be delivered on my part. 

Later on, as I was reviewing a series of reports sent to me by the heads of the Volkihar sanctuaries, at my desk, he crept outside with all of our dirty clothes – mine, his, and Runa’s – and scrubbed them clean in a bucket beside the house. This would have gone fine, had he not seen the smallest of spiders crawl up the side of the washbasin, and settle on its rim near his hand. After years of living with him, I know when Farkas has seen a spider of any sort. I know because of his scream. It was for this reason I did not panic as I went rushing to “save” him. 

After gallantly squishing the arachnid with a swat of my hand, I saw the laundry, and chose to speak my mind. I said gently to him, “Farkas, there was no need for you to do any of this.” And to me, he then said, “I know, but I wanted to.” 

I came quickly to the conclusion that that was what counted, in the end.”

[crownedwithashes]

📖 (any subject, though one on Runa may be too cute to deal)

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With a lick at his finger, he flipped to a certain page he’d filled, cleared his throat abruptly, and began to read.

“Today, Runa asked me why Ulfric and his rebellion are “really” fighting against the Empire, and why the Empire is “fighting back”.” He broke off momentarily to smile to himself. “I went on to explain that what simple facts she had heard were true: that the Nords in Ulfric’s army want their freedom to worship Talos as a God, and that the Empire is lawfully obligated to keep them from doing so. I also explained to her that Ulfric selfishly covets the throne where the High King used to sit, and will trumpet any and all concerns the Nord people have as his own, to win their favor and support his cause. Her response? “It’s stupid for them to fight over the Divines. If I was a Divine, I would come down and tell them to stop fighting over me, and that everyone should be able to like me or not like me however they want. Who cares?” I then proceeded to explain that the Altmer are quite opposed to the notion of Talos being a God, to which she responded, “I bet if you told everyone to be nicer to each other, they’d listen. You’re the nicest man I’ve ever met, Pa.””

He closed his journal, chuckling.