Leafsong’s Diary 6.8

Some days, I honestly think that it would have been a lot easier if I had stuck to my (and my pa’s) initial plan, and not allowed myself to become attached to my mate. My mate, our saber with gold fur, or as the humans call it – our ‘cash cow’. I can still recall my father’s exact words as he rolled together my pack in preparation for my leaving with the new, strange teacher – get as much from him as you can, even let him get a child on you, as long as he pays; but don’t, for Elune’s sake, succumb to any foolish feminine feeling you might mistakenly develop! Regardless of the negative impact on your business productivity, he and you are as the saber and the owl – incompatible.

I listened obediently as always (those were the days when I was his ‘dutiful daughter’, rather than the ‘wayward ingrate’), but it didn’t do much good. Look at me now, two and a half years after I left Darnassus in his company: the mother of four children, my usefulness to the family business diminishing daily, tied to a foreign city, druidic study abandoned.

The most galling thing is, that this would have been enough for me! I admit it, I never had any particularly lofty ambitions for myself. I never wanted to be the courageous Sentinel, the  noble Priestess – or even (if I’m honest) – the wise Druid. I wanted to have a vault full of gold, and enough food, always. Now I have those things, and my concern is ensuring that my children have vaults of gold, and more food than they could ever eat. It’s why I always stuff them beyond their satiety, why all four of my babies are plump.

I think that, in time, I could even get over the fact that I am now more of a burden than an asset to the GHE; and that I don’t really have a place in the family business anymore.

This, this, is the difference between my mate and I! This is what my father was referring to, when he said that we were fundamentally incompatible. I thought that he was talking about the age difference, the social disparity between us; but it was something far less obvious. I am a simple girl: I am happy when my husband is home, when my babies are playing, when I have cash heavy in my pocket. These tangible things are enough for me. My husband is a different beast, he has ideologies, theoretical aspirations, faith-based rational doctrines- complicated terms which aren’t just the titles of papers he authors, but real tenets by which he lives his life. His actions in the now are based on possible future outcomes, he is always plotting, planning, theorising. The future of the Kaldorei, the place of Elune in a unified world, the subjugation of the Horde – these are all daily concerns for him. I have known him to wake up, sweating, tortured almost, in the middle of the night – because of some incomprehensible, obscure point of doctrine. He’ll shut himself in the study, the light of the candle flickering beneath the door till the small hours of the morning, burying himself in ancient texts and tomes in an attempt to solve these nagging problems that won’t wait.

There’s no question that he loves our little family. When he dies and they open him up, I am confident that they will find our names – Leafsong, Analith, Mirae, Loredar and Flora- inscribed on his heart. But he is willing to risk everything in the pursuit of his damned ambition! The other day, he almost got both of us killed in a foolish expedition for this evil, magical pendant that he wished to use for his strange purpose.  He nearly made our children orphans, for some worthless trinket!

Granted, I could have perhaps thought of a more diplomatic way to communicate my anger than having our marital bed dragged onto the front porch, then setting fire to it. I thought that it made a powerful statement, but in reality, it just means that I have to sleep in the old armchair with the alarming protruding springs. Hmph.

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1 Response so far »

  1. 1

    Aphel said,

    What a GREAT -and- insightful post. You’re such a good author. ❤ Love the differences between Aphel and L-song.


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