2 May 1875, Sunday
(continued)
Mr Salmalin gave me the most distressing look not long ago. We
were settling in to bed after I had recounted my adventures in the Time
of Legends. When I mentioned with dismay, my frustration that our
plan to rescue the Sun from the ten-headed hydra had rapidly devolved
to the usual everyone rushing about however they saw fit. Mr Salmalin
made a neutral response that in any other husband would only show that
he was doing his wife the courtesy of paying her attention
My husband's interjection, however, contained a note of frustration and
exasperation that cut me to the quick. It was quite clear that,
while he was listening to me, he did not agree in the slightest with my
concerns.
For a brief moment I missed the shouting that had been my ex-husband's
method of dealing with me when he felt I was being foolish or when he
had had too much to drink and just felt like fighting. If Ravvi
had shouted, had told me I was being foolish, I could have held my
ground and dug in even more convinced of the rightness of my
position. As it is, he is now mediating, as he does every night
in lieu of sleep, and I am wide awake and force to wrestle with my
conscience.
It pains me to realize that during the fight, there was a part of me
hoping that Something (embarrassing but not fatal) would Happen to
Wilhelmina to teach her the error of her ways. What is wrong with
me, that I would wish harm or embarrassment on a fellow member of the
League?
It is true that I find it distressing that much of the time it seems
that the League's approach to combat (of which we have seen a
surprising amount in the past five years) appears to be of the “Get
'em” variety and less of the planned assault variety.
It has been shown time and time again that the League's method
works.
And while it is not what I would prefer, my options are: yell at them
every time they do not do as I say (which is terribly like my
ex-husband's modus operandi and is what I currently do), stay home the
next time they are called out (I do have the cottage in West Darlson,
after all), or learn to accept that this is the way things are and will
continue to be.
I suspect that the root of the problem is my old enemy, fear.
Fear is that I am inadequate to the task I have given. That I
will fail at the critical moment, bringing disaster down upon us.
I fear my weakness and my inexperience-- and now that fear leads me to
try to undercut the bravery and resourcefulness of my friends and limit
them to what I think is safe rather than what they think is necessary.
I want to free myself from this fear. I want to be equal to the
tasks that I have been given. I must trust those around me to
know their own capacity and to act on it.
First I must trust myself.
Proceed to Horrifying
spectacle
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