1874-05-13: Idle Writings
Idle Writings
Summary: Unable to sleep, Jasmina pens a letter to a certain Commodore.
Date: Mai 13, 1874
Related: Any where Hraelfmir and Jasmina spent time together
NPCs: NPC names, if relevant
Players:
Hraelfmir  Jasmina  

NPC-Name1  NPC-Name2  

With so much on her mind as of late, Jasmina has found sleep difficult to achieve. Tonight is particularly bad, with the thoughts of the fighting Ludovic is heading being some of the most of what's keeping her awake. But, for all the unpleasant things plaguing her this evening, she also finds her thoughts lingering on a particularly pleasant subject as well.

Giving up, a dressing gown is pulled over her nightshift and she pads barefooted towards her office, only stopping long enough to ask for a cup of tea and a snack be brought to her office where she'll be. Once inside she closes the door and sits behind her desk. A candle is lit and she pulls out a piece of parchment and a bottle of ink, the latter unstoppered so she can use it. Likewise, a quill is removed from its place within a drawer. Once everything is readied she begins to write:


Dearest Hraelfmir,

Sleep eludes me this night, so I thought I'd write you. I hope this letter will find you well and without any further injuries or time spent in captivity. I find myself to be in fair health despite the lack of sleep, but I find my spirits flagging some.

Aequorian forces have been trying to rid our lands of the Qatunax but our efforts seem to be.. I don't even know how to put it, I must admit. Whatever success we are rewarded with are met with losses that cause me much in the way of concern despite their falling within what are seen to be acceptable. Acceptable losses have a way of adding up, after all, and I am not sure if we'll find many who will want to volunteer if it comes down to needing to conscript new fighters into our troops. I had already offered Viscount d'Korbina some of my personal military to help bolster their forces but I can not spread my own numbers too thin. What if we're attacked and I have sent too many of my soldiers elsewhere?


A knock on the door causes Jasmina to pause, her quill set down for a moment. The maid comes in with a tray bearing a small pot of brewing tea and a plate of meat, cheese and bread. The Archduchess waits for the tea to steep and pours herself a cup, sipping it for a minute before returning to quill and parchment.


You said you'd come back to Rhone when you can and I find myself anxious for your return. I am not sure what the other nobles would think of me, being a woman of my position being so taken by a commoner, but I find myself uncaring as to what their opinions are where you are concerned go. The only opinion that matters to me is yours. I only hope you will not think of me as a silly girl for feeling the way I do, Hraelfmir. I also hope it will not cause you to flee from me, as that'd break my heart.


Jasmina eyes that last paragraph, slightly surprised by what has wound up being written by her. The urge to crumple it up and start again is strong, but she stops herself from doing so. "It might as well be said," she murmurs in a half-chuckled, half-breathy exhaled laugh.


I guess I have said too much? Maybe I haven't said enough, Hraelfmir. I do not know. I just pray you might feel as fondly for me as I do you. Even if just a little. But, for now, I shall stop myself here before it gets any later. Do stay safe.

Love, Jasmina


Folding the parchment and sealing it, the letter gets sent out at first light.

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