Every day I spend working on ways to make myself a better man in one way or another. Today I've been practicing my archery; since Miss Tylva showed me I had been holding the bow wrong, I've been trying to correct that, but I wonder if I'll need a teacher. Yesterday, I was studying from Miss Brynleigh, learning the proper way to treat hoof troubles; at ostlery I seem to be learning fast and getting better quickly, which makes me very pleased, as that's probably my best hope for a trade, and a way to support a family. The day before that, I was studying swordplay with Mister Aren, and learned how to hold the sword in a center position and then go to four different cuts and back to center. I'm not sure how well I'm doing at that, but I am sure that there's a lot more to learn, and it's pretty certain I won't be able to do any work as a guide this year -- especially since Miss Adriellyn confirms what Miss Owena said about ruffians making even the road to the Shire too dangerous for me. But at least I'll be better prepared for spring's journey, even if, as it seems, there won't be anyone else traveling with me. I've even been trying to get better at my letters, but I can't tell if I'm making any progress. It's particularly hard to focus on, with every other thought running through my head.
Perhaps, though, what I need to improve myself on the most is how to be a man. And in the situation I find myself, that may turn out to be about helping someone else to improve herself. I have been told of a number of dishonest and perhaps immoral things that Haritha has gotten herself caught up in, but which, perhaps, she wants to move past. I won't write about the specifics here as they were told to me in confidence. The important thing is, she volunteered them to me; I didn't ask about them, or even have a glimmer about most of them. I think -- no, perhaps I only just hope -- this is proof that she, despite her transgressions of the past, truly wishes to improve herself. That may even be what drew her to me. There may be many criticisms one could level at me, but dishonesty is not one of them. Perhaps she hoped I could help her become a better version of herself, like no one else in her life could.
And I truly want to help her become an honest and virtuous woman. Even if it turns out that we part ways afterwards, so it's of no benefit to me personally, I still very much want to. It feels like the right thing to do. But that's only assuming that she truly does wish to put away her past, and that it's possible for a person to change. And that it's possible for me to help with that change. Which is also a big question.
I know that a man is supposed to have some authority over his woman, and that gives him the responsibility to use that authority for her benefit. To care for her, to guide her, to protect her. Not to hurt her but to help her. At least that's how I learned; it's probably not the same everywhere, but that's how I think, how I was raised. So I ask myself, is authority what Haritha needs? Someone to set rules that must not be broken, rules against the sort of dishonesties and other disreputable acts which her past life has dragged her into, and taught to her? Or is that not at all what she needs? It's been suggested to me that perhaps she should be finding a woman-friend who can teach her gently, like a sister would, and there's not much I can offer. I don't know if that's true, or how I'd even be able to tell. But even if this needs the firm hand of a man, I don't know if I'm wise enough, or strong enough, to do it well. If I were back home I would ask my pa for advice, and he would laugh at me, never thinking I would be the one to need it, or to heed it, but he would probably still give it. Brynleigh suggested that Mister Barleycorn might be willing to offer that advice, so I'll have to ask him. Imagine me having to tell my pa that I apprenticed in how to be man from some farmer in Bree!
While I say that I'd want to help her become a better person even if there were nothing to me in it, I can't deny that I have feelings for her, dreams, wishes, desires. I can't and wouldn’t ask her if I could court her. I am not ready: I have no trade, no way to support a wife or family, not even a home. And I have duty that must be completed first; I am not my own yet, so I cannot offer myself. She is also perhaps not ready, being recently widowed. In fact, I wonder if, with her grief so much more near than I realized, her feelings for me might be jumbled up with grief, and that when the grief heals, she will no longer care for me. But all this doesn't mean I don't still think about when will be the next time I might see her smile, or hold her hand. And wonder if one day, perhaps not for years, we could belong to one another.
Now there's another obstacle to that, or perhaps several. For any continued connection between us depends on her truly, sincerely meaning her wish to put aside her past, and become an honest and virtuous woman. And to sustain that wish, remain dedicated to it, through the trials of learning good habits and unlearning bad ones, when it's hard to be honest and easy to lie. And to succeed at last in changing herself for the better. And perhaps on my ability to help her do all this. Will this dream of us being together make me less able to help her, or make her less able to change? Emotion muddles thought, and transforms intention into fog and mist. If she needs the authority of a man, it only means anything if she chooses to subject herself to that authority, and why would she, save if we have feelings for one another? But perhaps those feelings will also get in the way.
More than ever before, even more than the day I first crossed the Limlight and faced down a wide world beyond anything I'd ever seen, I worry that I am in over my head. Helping her become an honest person may need a wiser man than I'll ever be, or at least a wiser one than I can be right now. I wonder if it might be the right thing to step aside in hopes a better man might take my place. In fact, if I thought it more likely that one would, perhaps that's exactly what I would do. But here in the north, good men, honest men, are not readily to hand. Her tales to me of her sordid past are full of men who stepped up not to help her, but to use her and hurt her. The few men I know of in her life right now, other than myself, make me think that she has gone from bad to worse. Poor Haritha, if I am truly the best hope she has.
