A happy young bride.

[museworks]

This is part of that 'therapy', as the Tauren called it, writing what I remember. Even if I don't want to remember it or relive it. She said it's the only way to find peace. I disagree, the only way to find peace is revenge, but I didn't tell her that. I knew she would disagree, and spout something about life and fate and overcoming things and so forth. The usual priestly claptrap meant to soothe the ignorant when faced with the unexplainable.

I suppose there is a certain strange comfort in putting the words on a page, then reading. Even the worst things seem more detached.

It's difficult to believe I was actually happy when I got married. I didn't want to be married, but Jovan was handsome, he was a warrior of sorts-- a Blood Knight-- and he was charming. I had believed that, as far as arranged marriages were concerned, I was perhaps not so unfortunate. I had images of us training together with our weapons, despite my parents telling me to put them away and not speak of them to my prospective husband; I even started to entertain the notion of children, perhaps strong, confident ones who would help in the restoration of Quel'thalas to its former glory.

I was faced with this situation I did not want, and was deluding myself into believing it was perhaps a good thing after all. I believed my parents loved me and sought what was best for me, that my brother supported this and was only kept away because of his duties elsewhere (I later found out he had deliberately not been told). With this marriage my parents could possibly overcome my grandfather's loss of status that bumped our family to the lower rungs of the nobility, and Jovan could rebuild his own family's fortune, which had been squandered (by his parents, I had been told).

The ceremony was a blur; rather, that's how I remember it. I vaguely remember my father handing me to Jovan, I remember the glint of the sun through the stained-glass window and how his shining dress-armor reflected it into my eyes, I remember my brother's absence from the ceremony. Other than that, it was a blur of words and dancing and movements that came to a close when I rode pillion with Jovan on his armored steed away from it all.

We arrived at my new home, a vast, empty estate that was a shell of its former self. That did not surprise me; I assumed many things had been sold off to pay taxes and debts. There were still some heirlooms, some elegant, ancient furniture items, and so forth. But my first impression was just how dark it was. I was escorted shortly after arrival to my chambers; not by my new husband, but by a sullen, servant who shoved me into the room and locked the door behind herself.

I don't know how long I was in that dark room. I want to say a week…but it was hard to tell because it seemed like ages between each meal, it had to have been one meal a day. It was brought only while I slept, and I don't know how they knew I was sleeping, but I didn't see any one. I lost track of time because there were no windows in that room; what I'd thought were 'my chambers' was simply a large, dark room. The bed was luxurious and comfortable, but there were no clothes in the wardrobe, nothing to read even if there had been light by which I could read, nothing to do other than what I could do for myself. I was taken there in my wedding dress and just…abandoned. I didn't know what to think.

I kept myself relatively sane by going through my physical exercises-- the stretches I'd do before practice, the moves I learned from Ches when he was home, that I learned first from Ches' weaponmaster and then from those I had observed from my window. I ended up doing these things repeatedly to the point of exhaustion, because it kept me from dwelling on the never-ending dark. I only knew I had meals because I could smell the food, but I still fumbled and spilled things. It was always cleaned up. I suppose it was a small blessing that the only furniture was the bed and the empty wardrobe. It made it easier to fumble my way around to the privy closet as well. At least there wasn't just a chamberpot, the room did have a better disposal means. I knew I already was not smelling pleasant after a while, even when I'd stripped off all but my undergarments (and even those I removed and just put the sleeveless chemise on). It didn't need to be made worse by waste.

But still, the darkness. Always the darkness. I now know it was his way of weakening me, at least starting the process of 'breaking' me. Trying to break me, anyhow.

I have more to write, but right now I need to get out-- I need to be in the sun. Maybe until I burn. I just need it right now.