Ah.
Dru allowed the frown to flourish. This was the ordinary sort of nerves, then — or as ordinary as it got, with people like them. Dru hadn't experienced them, and by the time she'd married there had been no one left to hover over her shoulder while she prepared in the morning and warn her that she might, but one heard stories. In novels, people were always wracked with anxiety before getting married; sometimes in real life the wedding was delayed for some minutes while a relative soothed a last minute flare-up of doubts. Dru supposed she ought to be flattered that she was the one in this position; having been chosen to reassure. She moved to the sofa and took a seat next to Morrigan, still holding her hands. She knit her brow while she thought through what to say — mostly concerned about choosing the right words for the sake of not wasting time. Mor had a wedding to get to, and quite a bit of preparation still to do, by the state of her. But that was alright — Dru knew a spell to make the circles under her eyes disappear. Spells to smooth over someone's appearance, to hide the turmoil taking place at home, were a Rowle specialty.
Carefully, Dru sifted through everything she knew about Mor's situation and tried to pinpoint the thing that would be weighing on her mind most heavily at the moment. There were the rituals, obviously; she might be worried that marrying would give her less freedom to participate, or to continue research — that she would fail her Vow. She might worry that Brooks would find out, or that she would have to admit it to him, and he would judge her. This was an ill-placed anxiety, if that was what was driving this. In Dru's experience, husbands were only as involved in one's life as one allowed them to be.
Then there was the curse. They had never explicitly discussed it, but Dru had intuited that Morrigan wouldn't have children until she'd broken her curse — she spoke about her own ancestors with enough venom that it was clear she disapproved of their choices to carry on with life as best they could and ignore it all. Once she was married she would face pressure to have children, but that was all right too, Dru thought. They'd simply have to break the curse. If Brooks loved her, then he mightn't care about delaying children for a year, or two, or three.... but then, she would have to tell him something to put him off. This was back to the beginning: the anxiety that he would find out more than Morrigan wanted him to know, and that he wouldn't approve of their methods.
"Mor," she began delicately. "You do know — what they say about there being no secrets between husband and wife. You know that's not true." She gave her friend a meaningful look. "You won't have to tell him."
Dru allowed the frown to flourish. This was the ordinary sort of nerves, then — or as ordinary as it got, with people like them. Dru hadn't experienced them, and by the time she'd married there had been no one left to hover over her shoulder while she prepared in the morning and warn her that she might, but one heard stories. In novels, people were always wracked with anxiety before getting married; sometimes in real life the wedding was delayed for some minutes while a relative soothed a last minute flare-up of doubts. Dru supposed she ought to be flattered that she was the one in this position; having been chosen to reassure. She moved to the sofa and took a seat next to Morrigan, still holding her hands. She knit her brow while she thought through what to say — mostly concerned about choosing the right words for the sake of not wasting time. Mor had a wedding to get to, and quite a bit of preparation still to do, by the state of her. But that was alright — Dru knew a spell to make the circles under her eyes disappear. Spells to smooth over someone's appearance, to hide the turmoil taking place at home, were a Rowle specialty.
Carefully, Dru sifted through everything she knew about Mor's situation and tried to pinpoint the thing that would be weighing on her mind most heavily at the moment. There were the rituals, obviously; she might be worried that marrying would give her less freedom to participate, or to continue research — that she would fail her Vow. She might worry that Brooks would find out, or that she would have to admit it to him, and he would judge her. This was an ill-placed anxiety, if that was what was driving this. In Dru's experience, husbands were only as involved in one's life as one allowed them to be.
Then there was the curse. They had never explicitly discussed it, but Dru had intuited that Morrigan wouldn't have children until she'd broken her curse — she spoke about her own ancestors with enough venom that it was clear she disapproved of their choices to carry on with life as best they could and ignore it all. Once she was married she would face pressure to have children, but that was all right too, Dru thought. They'd simply have to break the curse. If Brooks loved her, then he mightn't care about delaying children for a year, or two, or three.... but then, she would have to tell him something to put him off. This was back to the beginning: the anxiety that he would find out more than Morrigan wanted him to know, and that he wouldn't approve of their methods.
"Mor," she began delicately. "You do know — what they say about there being no secrets between husband and wife. You know that's not true." She gave her friend a meaningful look. "You won't have to tell him."
ty MJ <3