And We Don’t Give a What ‘Cause That’s Just Who We Are

Jaban 17, 1014

This had been going on for far too long.

Delyth had been in the doldrums for … what … months? And if it was just stemming from her father’s death … well, that would have been one thing. Cherry could imagine only too well. How many stormy nights had she shivered in her bedroom back in Bledavik, convinced that this would be the storm that would make it so her parents never came home again?

But whatever it was that was getting Delyth down, it wasn’t her father. Her father had died in Imsdyn. Delyth and Dilys both had been heartbroken, but they’d both been recovering. Dilys still was recovering. But Delyth had crashed in Ververe, and she hadn’t pulled herself up yet. Sometimes it was all Cherry, Dilys, and Ravenna combined could do to get her out of bed and into class, to say nothing of doing enough work outside to keep her afloat. And eating regularly and sleeping neither too much or not enough were their own battles.

Luckily, Cherry had a solution, or at least a way to bring a smile to Delyth’s face.

She knocked on the door to the room Dilys and Delyth shared. Ravenna and Dilys had already gone out to meet George at the Lion and Llama, and Cherry had checked every other room in the house, so Delyth had to be here.

No answer. Shrugging, Cherry pushed the door open.

Just as she suspected.

Delyth sighed, her arm listlessly coming up to rest on her forehead. “What?”

There were times for tough love. For shaking sense into people until their brains rattled in their skulls. For pulling them up by the hair if they wouldn’t pull themselves up by their bootstraps. For dragging them into a better place if they wouldn’t get up and walk there themselves.

This wasn’t one of those times.

“I’ve got something for you,” Cherry said.

Delyth blinked. She looked up. “Huh?”

“A surprise,” Cherry continued.

Delyth wrinkled her nose. “What … kind of surprise?”

Cherry didn’t answer. She winked and walked out of the room.

Then … One … two … three …

Nothing. But Cherry was not willing to give up. Not yet. If there was one feature that defined the Delyth she knew, or thought she knew, it was her curiosity. Surely she’d decide that she had to know what the surprise was, even if it meant getting out of bed.

Six … seven …

If Cherry got up to ten, she decided, she was going to get worried. Ravenna had already talked about bringing her mother up to talk to Delyth. Cherry wasn’t sure what good that would do, but Dilys seemed to understand and view the proposal with a mix of hope and trepidation. Maybe next time, Cherry would back Ravenna up.

Nine …

There was a faint creak from the other room, the creak a bed might make when relieved of the pressure of a body. Cherry continued her nonchalant saunter to her room, only making sure she was slow enough that Delyth saw her when she finally poked her head out of her room.

Delyth emerged and followed Cherry into her bedroom. “Look,” she sighed, “it’s nice of you to try to cheer me up, but … well …”

“This isn’t going to just cheer you up. This is going to make your life.”

“My life?”

“Aye.”

A pause. “You’re insane, Cherry.” But there was something else there. Something like … hope?

Cherry took that as her cue to fling open the doors to the wardrobe.

She had hung up a mirror on one of the doors. Her only purpose had been to have someplace to fix her hair and make sure her gown wasn’t slipping too much to one side or the other. But today, it was coming in quite handy for watching Delyth’s face … especially when Cherry edged over to let Delyth catch a glimpse of the two identical red dresses that she had managed to acquire.

First Delyth looked confused. Then her eyes widened. Her jaw fell. “Cherry, are those what I think …?”

Cherry smirked. “You bet they are.”

“But … but what are they for?”

“Well,” Cherry replied, “I was thinking you and I could wear them.”

Wear them?”

“And then go out. Like, say …” She cast a glance over her shoulder, grinning. “To the Llama?”

Delyth’s jaw fell again. “That’s insane!”

“You bet your ass it’s insane. You in?”

“But …”

“Delyth, what is college for if not for doing crazy shit you’ll be denying for the rest of your life? When are you ever going to get another chance?”

Delyth’s face quivered like the waters of a still pond disturbed by a sudden breeze. Thoughts moved underneath, quick and silvery as fish. Then they stopped.

She grinned.

“Hell yeah! Let’s do this!”

Music to my ears.

***

“And you should have been there, Dilys,” George was saying. Dilys smiled weakly. She knew Ravenna loved George, but sometimes she found him a bit … much. “Elyan screamed like a girl!”

Dilys glanced around George at Ravenna, who grinned and rolled her eyes at the same time. “G-George … I know Elyan can be …”

“Lower than the dirt on a beggar’s boot? Liable to drown in the rain since his nose is up so bloody high in the air? An unmitigated ass?”

“Er … I was going to say annoying …”

“That too,” George agreed, folding his hands behind his head and leaning back.

“But … don’t you think it’s a bit … cruel to have turned his …” Dilys started to blush. “His chausses into snakes?”

“At least I didn’t do it while he was wearing them,” George shrugged. Then he glared at Ravenna, though the force of it was muted by the way he waggled his eyebrows up and down. “Though I wanted to …”

“And I reminded you that you want to keep a maid, and you won’t keep a maid if constantly make Elyan shit himself, literally, which she’ll have to clean up.”

“But you can summon a servantus …” George wheedled.

“I am not cleaning your house by magic.”

“But Ravenna …”

Dilys hid a smile and averted her eyes. George could be cute when he tried to sweet-talk Ravenna, especially when they both knew from the outset that he wouldn’t be getting what he wanted. But somehow it felt wrong to watch, like she was a peeping Tom. So she settled back and let her eyes wander around the room.

They fell on the just-opened door.

They went wide.

“Oh my goodness!”

“Dilys?” Ravenna asked, alarmed.

“What’s the matter?” George echoed. He looked around, and, if Dilys saw clearly through the spaces of her fingers, reached for his wand.

Dilys mewed and sunk down in her seat. It was nothing that needed George’s wand to handle. But all the same, it was nothing that she could say out loud.

Because at the end of the day … even when it was be-wimpled and done up in the habit of a Sister of St. Agnes … there was something that a twin’s eyes could always recognize.

The face of her twin.

***

Delyth couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this happy.

Or maybe happy wasn’t the word for it. Happy was, in her experience, a calmer feeling. Happy didn’t bubble up in her like overexcited champagne threatening to explode from the bottle. Happy rocked her like a boat on a gentle lake, lulling her into believing that somehow, everything would be all right. Whereas this feeling …

Everything might not be all right. Delyth was pretty sure that dressing up as a nun — especially an Agnesite — when you hadn’t the right was some kind of blasphemy. It might even be grounds for expulsion, if whatever proctor caught you was in a foul enough mood. And Delyth couldn’t have cared less.

“Come on — let’s get a drink, Sister,” said Cherry.

“Certainly, Sister!” replied Delyth, skipping after her.

The bartender’s eyes were wide and frozen, like a deer caught downwind of the hunter with no escape in sight. “S-s-sisters,” she stammered, “what–what can I be doin’ –”

She stopped as Cherry hopped onto the barstool. “Cherry?” she hissed.

“Two frosty walruses, both on the rocks, make mine a double, Emi,” replied Cherry.

“Have ye lost yer mind?” Emi whispered. She looked around the bar fearfully, the hand that habitually wiped the sticky surface of the bar down moving at three times its normal speed. “Ye know what could happen ter ye if ye got caught?”

“Nope,” replied Cherry. “Do you?”

Emi’s mouth fell open, and her teeth clacked as she stared and just as quickly ending about five responses. “It’d be bad!” Emi promised.

“Only if we get caught,” Cherry shrugged. “And this one,” Cherry nudged Delyth in the ribs, “needed cheering up. So. The walruses?”

Emi’s mouth continued to open and close. She looked from Cherry to Delyth and back again. Finally she sighed, slammed her towel on the counter, and marked back to the bar. “If this is what ye call cheerin’ folks up …” was all Delyth could make out of her muttering.

“You know,” Delyth remarked as soon as Emi was out of earshot, or at least not as close, “I think I’m ready for doubles now.”

“Frosty walruses? No, you’re not.”

“Why not? It’s not like I’m a child …”

“A child? Certainly not. But you’re a southlander.” Cherry winked. “Southlanders are lucky if they can take frosty walruses once a month — doubles? Forget about it!”

“I am not that much of a lightweight,” Delyth replied, trying to force herself to laugh. When was the last time she had bothered to laugh in reply to what anybody else had said? Surely it was before she had gone to see Morgan …

Whenever she thought of that visit, she wondered if she ever might laugh — really laugh — again.

At least Emi brought the drinks quickly. Delyth tossed hers down like a true Bledavickian. She slammed it down on the counter (also like a true Bledavickian) to find Cherry watching her. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” Delyth asked.

“Going dark.”

Delyth shrugged.

Cherry poked her in the ribs. “You’re not allowed to go dark tonight.”

“Why not?” Delyth asked. The champagne was losing its bubbles already. Soon it would be flat and listless, stripped of the one thing that could be said to make it what it was. What was champagne without bubbles? What was a woman–

Cherry poked Delyth. “You’re. Not. Allowed,” she repeated, punctuating each word with a poke.

“You never asked my question.”

“I don’t have to. I’m Mother Superior tonight, and you have to obey me.” Cherry leaned her cheek on her hand, batting her eyelashes.

Cherry as Mother Superior — of the Agnesites? That did it. Delyth burst out laughing.

“That’s better,” Cherry replied. “So. How many guys are checking us out?”

“What? We’re nuns!”

“I know,” Cherry replied. “But we’re also us.”

Delyth’s mouth opened. She looked around. Every man whose eyes she met looked away as soon as their gazes crossed. Was it because of the wimple and the habit? Or was it because …

All right, Delyth, now you’re being an idiot. If you couldn’t tell before Morgan told you, how would they be able to tell?

“I think they’re too afraid of the penance we could give them to check us out,” Delyth replied.

“Ooh! Penance!” Cherry put her finger to her lips and looked around. “See you any sinners here, Sister?” she asked, much more loudly. “Seeing as we’re in their natural habitat and all?”

Delyth had no idea how to reply — but she would play along. “Oh, yes, Sister!” She pretended to look around again. “The place is crawling with them!”

“Excellent! — Er, I mean, how terrible!” Cherry looked about ready to start giggling. If she kept up that not-quite-straight face, Delyth was going to lose it. But what was she planning? “I think we ought to give them some penance!”

“What?” Delyth hissed, and then added, more loudly, “Oh, penance! What kind of penance?”

“The best kind,” Cherry slipped off her barstool, grabbed Delyth’s arm and pulled her forward. “Come on. Let’s show these sinners what-for!”

Oh boy! Delyth thought. She barely had time to put — more like throw — her tankard back on the bar before having to jog to keep up with Cherry.

She almost had to be dragged when she saw where Cherry was heading. The stage? “Cherry!” Delyth hissed.

“You know the words to ‘As I Roved Out?” Cherry asked from the corner of her mouth.

“Of–of course!”

“Good! We’ll be singing it as a duet.” They ran up to the stage, and Cherry popped the cork on one of the wine bottles conveniently left up there — to wet the performers’ whistles, of course, no more. “You take the woman’s part, I’ll take the man’s, we’ll both do the chorus?”

“Cherry! Are you insane?”

“I’m sorry, is that a rhetorical question?” Cherry blinked up at her innocently. Then she cleared her throat and called out to the bar. “Excuse me! Excuse me! It has come to my good Sister’s and my attention that you are all sinners. Grievous sinners! Therefore, for your penance, you must listen to us sing. Please attend! Your salvation is at stake!” Cherry cleared her throat, even as jaws fell all around the bar — and started.

Who are you, my pretty fair maid,
Who are you, me honey?
And who are you, my pretty fair maid,
And who are you, me honey?
She answered me quite modestly …

Cherry handed it off to Delyth with a wave of her hand. Delyth barely came in on time.

I am me mother’s darling.

Delyth had to hand it to Cherry: she was good. Maybe she wasn’t the world’s best singer. But there was passion, and feeling behind it, passion that was all the more real for being obviously fake. But it Delyth was the only one who knew that. Across the bar, jaws were falling and drinks were being dropped as patrons watched one nun sing her heart out to the other — especially as Cherry hammed up every word with feeling that wasn’t strictly there in the song.

It was time for the chorus, which was just “Too-ry-ay Fol-de-diddle-day Di-re fol-de-diddle Dai-rie oh,” and Delyth came in with Cherry. Both of their voices were too high to make it a proper duet; Delyth’s, reedy and unsure, scraped the ceiling in what room was left by Cherry’s. But then the chorus ended — and with the beginning of the second verse, from the woman’s perspective, Delyth was on her own.

She gave it her best shot.

And will you come to me mother’s house,
When the moon is shining clearly?
And will you come to me mother’s house
When the moon is shining clearly?
I’ll open the door and I’ll let you in
And divil ‘o one will hear us.

She could scarcely carry the tune on her own. And she wasn’t as good with her playacting and her puppy eyes as Cherry was. The mischief dancing in Delyth’s eyes was also much more obvious than that dancing in Cherry’s eyes — especially when Cherry mooned all over her and swooned like this was a love song.

Another chorus, and it was Cherry’s turn again:

So I went to her house in the middle of the night
When the moon was shining clearly
So I went to her house in the middle of the night
When the moon was shining clearly
She opened the door and she let me in and divil the one did hear us.

One more chorus. It was still Cherry’s part.

She took me horse by the bridle and the bit
And led him to the stable
She took me horse by the bridle and the bit
And led him to the stable
Saying …

Delyth squeaked in, “There’s plenty of oats for a soldier’s horse,
To eat it if he’s able.”

Cherry grinned, and Delyth could hear chuckles beginning from the bar. Everybody else must have known where this was going. But after the chorus, it was Cherry’s turn again:

Then she took me by the lily-white hand
Led me to the table
Then she took me by the lily-white hand
Led me to the table
Saying …

Delyth sang, “There’s plenty of wine for a soldier boy,
To drink if he is able.

The hoots and hollers were starting with this chorus. Delyth tried not to giggle. Cherry succeeded and began to sing again.

Then I got up and I made the bed
I made it nice and aisy
Then I got up and I made the bed
I made it nice and aisy
The I got up and I laid her down
Saying ‘Lassie, are you able?

Cherry tossed her hair — wimple, technically — and spun in place. Their chorus rang out over the bar, as triumphant as a man finally tupping maid who’d caught his eye:

With me — Too-ry-ay Fol-de-diddle-day Di-re fol-de-diddle Dai-rie oh!

Delyth was going to break down in giggles if this didn’t end soon. At least this was the second-to-last verse, and it was Cherry’s.

And there we lay till the break of day
Divil the one did hear us
And there we lay till the break of day
And divil the one did hear us
Then I arose and put on me clothes
Saying, ‘Lassie, I must leave you.’

Everyone in the bar saw that one coming. Delyth decided to try to playact a bit, pouting as best she could while roaring out the chorus.

The last verse started with Delyth:

And when will you return again
When will we get married?
And when will you return again
When will we get
married?

But it ended with Cherry:

When broken shells make Christmas bells
We might then get married
!

And when they sang the chorus, the whole bar joined in — including the only one who had been brave enough to come running up to the front.

With me — Too-ry-ay Fol-de-diddle-day Di-re fol-de-diddle Dai-rie OH!”

Author’s Note: The version of the song I used is the one from Loreena McKennit’s The Wind That Shakes the Barley. I don’t know why the page is in French, because I told it I wanted English, but that’s the Internet for you. Anyway, I like the song, and check out the album if you’re into that kind of thing!

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8 thoughts on “And We Don’t Give a What ‘Cause That’s Just Who We Are

  1. Cherry is such a good friend. Even if no one around can do much better than a band-aid solution, there’s not much that cheers up quite like sticking it to convention, especially if you happen to be in a position where convention is the bully on the playground who can beat you up in front of the teachers and get off scot-free because his parents are on the board.

    But regardless of the circumstances, this post did end on a fun note and Delyth needed to get her mind off of things, big time.

    Did she tell Dilys? I’m guessing she did, if Dilys is seconding Ravenna’s suggestion of sending for Morgan (which… I think would be a good idea at this point. It’s been long enough now that Delyth needs to hear from someone with authority that her life isn’t over, that her value as person is not defined by how many children she has or how conventionally “marriageable” she is, that she will find a talent or a career she can pursue with a passion, that getting married is not out of the question if that’s what she wants, that there are plenty of children out there in need of good homes, that if the Fae can get Father Hugh to conceive then Delyth shouldn’t be a problem, etc. And not only does she need to be told this, she needs to learn how to believe it. And that’s what Morgan does).

    George! Turning Elyan’s clothes into snakes! πŸ˜„ And it was awesome that he ended up going to the front. I hope he and Delyth can be friends eventually. Something tells me that if some guy broke her heart because he found out she didn’t have a uterus, then George would promptly make sure that the douche woke up one morning to find a pair of field mice where his testicles used to be.

    • As an afterthought, I’d like to add that I find the fact that Delyth went along with this so enthusiastically and did end up enjoying herself to be a very good sign in terms of her views on any social pressures that may be coming her way in the future. I mean, if this had happened to one of Bors’s daughters, it would have been nunnery for her, no questions asked–and I’m guessing in terms of the larger culture (not Albion’s nobles, but certainly Glasonland’s, and pesky townies and the resident mouthpiece of Stupid, Babette), this would pretty much be the case unless it was somehow beneficial to the family as a whole to have a “maiden” aunt around (I mean, hey, no one really has any reason to be speculating about these women’s sex lives or lack of therefore; if an unmarried woman who can’t conceive and likely won’t marry wants to have a fling with a stableboy, it’s not like she’ll start throwing up in the mornings and wearing increasingly baggy dresses). If Delyth, who has stated in narrative that she doesn’t want to be a nun, had feared that this might be the case for her, she might have been horribly offended at the suggestion that she dress up as a nun, or she might have burst into a crying fit and locked herself in her room for who knows how long. If she was willing to go along with it, and even felt elated by it in the end, that to me shows that she knows that there will be enough people on her side that she won’t be going anywhere she doesn’t want to go.

      Of course, now she has to figure out where she does want to go…

    • That’s a good point about Delyth going along with this meaning that, on some level, she realizes that she’s not going to be dragged to the nunnery kicking and screaming. But Eilwen did promise her that she wouldn’t force her into anything she didn’t want, and even though Pellinore is no longer here to back up that promise, I don’t think Lamorak would have forced the issue as long as Eilwen or even Delyth told him that Pellinore wouldn’t have done it. Heck, that reasoning may even have some force with Aglovale, if it should come to that. Aglovale had an … interesting relationship with his father, but I think it would take a lot for him to go openly in the face of what Pellinore wanted.

      Plus there’s always Garnet. If Delyth was violently opposed to going to the nunnery, I could see Garnet taking her side and refusing to sign off on the release of the dowry, which would probably nix any nunnery plans.

      But at the moment, the only person in the Gwynedd family who knows about Delyth’s condition is Dilys. Delyth hasn’t figured out how to tell the rest of the family. And for what it’s worth, Ravenna doesn’t have a clue what’s wrong either, but she can tell depression when she sees it and she knows her mother has a good track record for dealing with such things. (She obviously has no idea that Morgan was the bearer of bad news in this regard.)

      Thanks, Van! πŸ™‚

  2. I have been waiting for this! Yay for Cherry prying Delyth out of bed. (Boo that she had to be pried out of bed in the first place but yay to Cherry for doing it.) Nothing like something exhilaratingly over-the-top and blasphemous to boot to shake off depression for a while.

    Cherry really does have a way with doing whatever she has to for the people that she cares about and I’m glad for that.

    I wonder what the Cap’n would think of her doing it?

    And their duet with Cherry hamming it up was too funny. I’m glad that Cherry sings better than I do. (Though, sadly, once upon a time in my life I sang very well. I just don’t anymore. Probably lack of practice, I only ever sing when I’m sitting at my computer or in the car alone.)

    Poor Delyth, though. I’m gonna disagree with Van though. I kinda hope they don’t send for Morgan. Morgan’s a wonderful woman and I know she’s something of a therapist, but I think seeing Morgan would just, at this point, bring back the fact that this is really real. It’s all well and good to see a therapist and get help, which Delyth needs, but in this case Morgan was the bearer of bad news and I don’t think Delyth is at the point where she can see the “Morgan can help me” past the “Morgan was the one who told me that no one will ever want me, that I’ll never have children.”

    I do think that she needs to talk with somebody, but my vote would be her eldest brother’s wife more than Morgan. I personally think that Garnet would be a far better choice of confidant at this point than Morgan would. Sure, Morgan knows more about “therapy” but it isn’t like she’s a trained psychologist, she’s basically pulling the concept of talk therapy out of her butt. That doesn’t make her an expert. (Having seen lots of therapists in my life, I’m on my ninth in twenty years I know all about therapists. In some ways having one who thinks they know is worse than having someone who admits they don’t.)

    Morgan also has the courage and conviction to go against the norm and and accept what that will make her. It’s not anything she’s really fought with since we’ve known her. Garnet, on the other hand, we’ve seen walking through being different to get to the place she wants to be, more or less. Not to say that Morgan doesn’t struggle, but we’ve never seen Morgan struggle and yes, there is a difference.

    I think there’s a level of understanding in Garnet that’s taken as inplicit that isn’t there in Morgan for Delyth. I don’t know that Delyth would look at Morgan and see “she really understands”. Morgan is a white witch who’ll probably live forever and can change reality by thought and deed. Why would Morgan understand (Delyth might think) when Morgan has the power and ability to CHANGE her circumstances? (Whether she actually can or not is irrelevant. Delyth, I think, would see it as she could, and even if she can’t right this very single second, Morgan has time. Morgan has all the time in the world to find a solution. Delyth doesn’t. She’s got a few short years at Camford and then she’ll be trapped in whatever her family decides is best for her.)

    Garnet, on the other hand, does know about struggling against a reality that you don’t have the power to change. Her father’s illness, the madness that’s shared by her mother and her brother, she’s been dealt a lot harder hand than Morgan has and that might actually be a boon in this process of drawing Delyth out…

    Just my two cents.

    • Hmm, you’ve got a good point there. No matter what Morgan says and how she says, there may be some undertone of “You’re the one who ruined my life” going on in Delyth’s head that stifles any real progress–and I’m guessing that apart from Delyth herself, no one would feel worse about that than Morgan.

      Garnet would be a good choice for a confidante for Delyth, for all the reasons you mentioned, plus the ability to tell Lamorak where to stuff it if and when he starts wondering what to do about Delyth as if she doesn’t have any say in regards to her own life. Garnet may be a little on the frosty side, but she doesn’t do friendship half way, and she already knows what it’s like to have a “well-meaning” brother trying to interfere with her future.

      You know who else might be a decent choice, though I don’t know how Delyth would feel given the connection to Morgan and the essential immortality thing? Accolon. As far as we know, he’s the only other character in the story who can’t have biological children, even if he did have Ravenna before the death and zombification happened–and unlike Delyth, who at this point can choose who gets to know about her problem and who doesn’t, Accolon can’t exactly hide being a zombie. In spite of this, he’s managed to have a well-rounded, fulfilling life, to enjoy the company of friends who have what he wants most, two adopted children that he loves to death, a career he enjoys, and someone who loves him and doesn’t give a damn about whether he can give her babies or not. Maybe if Delyth can see that someone else has managed that, she won’t feel so hopeless about her own future?

    • The Cap’n would probably alternate between cheering Cherry on and rolling on the floor laughing when the story was told. In other words, he would LOVE this. And he would be boasting proudly for weeks about how Cherry is a chip off the old block(head).

      Heck, he’d probably tell the story to Pamela just to watch her choke …

      But moving on! That’s a really good series of points about possible confidants for Delyth. Right now she doesn’t feel ready for any kind of confidant, though I think if this were set in the modern day, Ravenna and Dilys would have already kidnapped her and dragged her to the university’s counseling center. Alas, Camford has a cathedral but it doesn’t have a counseling center. Also, if this were set in the modern day, any doctor who told Delyth about her condition would have instantaneously gone on to tell her about possible treatments and ways for her to have a biological child, because such things exist today. Dilys would have probably already volunteered to be Delyth’s surrogate if she should need or want one.

      However, that’s neither here nor there.

      I think … at the point of this post, Garnet would be a better choice for a confidante than Accolon. It’s not that Accolon doesn’t have compassion, but … well, he’s a zombie, he can be acerbic, and he might point out that Delyth’s condition could be a lot worse. As in she could have to take three baths a day just to not make her partner gag. Or she could have no memory of her childhood and young adulthood. And then there’s the body parts falling off … I don’t know if Delyth would respond well to that kind of tough-love talk. Not at this point, anyway, though later on she might be able to laugh with Accolon about it.

      So yeah, Garnet would be a better choice … but … well … *points to next post*

      Thanks Andavri, thanks Van!

  3. There is something so deliciously delightful about a plot where ladies dress up as nuns to let loose. That, and those habits are a great color.

    Talking to someone might be good for Delyth in the future. She does have a potentially tricky situation on her hands given her status and The Times. However, I’m not sure that talking is necessary just yet. She needs to find her sense of self-worth again, and I don’t think anyone can give it to her. Even the example of someone who has dealt with similar adversity won’t help if she’s still convinced she’s a lost cause.

    Delyth obviously wrapped up a lot of her worth in becoming a mother, and she’s at a loss for where she’s going to find a place for herself in the world. More time spent living now than worrying about what she’ll be living as in the future might help her re-asses where her worth comes from. She has value and an identity now, just as she is, and I’m not sure she sees that. Ladies often have their identities wrapped up in something else – a husband, a father, even their religious order. If Delyth lives her life, she may find some piece of herself that she can build on even if no other identity is going to come her way. If talking to someone helps that, all the better, but I think Dr. Cherry wrote the perfect first prescription.

    • Tee hee, since I did Wawa’s white & red combo for the Robertians, I figured the Agnesites ought to get a red & white combo. And thank you, Andavri, for providing! πŸ˜€ I hope to use all of her habits eventually!

      Hmm, Delyth needing to find her own sense of self-worth … yeah, she needs that. I think it might help her to talk to somebody about it, if only because dealing with it solely on her own does not appear to be working. But maybe she just needs to wallow for a bit before she can start to pull herself up … you never know …

      And that’s a really good point about Delyth already having her own identity. I think before her diagnosis, she was … not happy, but at least not too bothered by the idea of forming her identity around a core of being a wife and mother, having her identity largely shaped by her social role. She’s not like Dindrane and Dilys, who both seem to have formed their identities on something that has nothing to do with their marital and maternal status. If you’d asked Delyth what she imagined her life being like prior to her diagnosis, she would have said that she expected something like Garnet’s life: wife and mother and lady-in-waiting/sidekick to Lynn (or maybe, in Delyth’s case, Dilys once the engagement with Kay was set). Now that she doesn’t have that pillar to support everything else, she’s lost.

      But like you said, Dr. Cherry may be helping her make a new foundation … ’cause there are not too many ladies who get dressed up at nuns and go sing karaoke at disreputable bars. πŸ˜‰ It’s a place to start, and a fun one at that.

      Thanks, Winter! πŸ™‚

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