1 September 1621

I just realized I don't know what we'll do for All Saints' and Christmas this year. As long as I can remember we always just danced in the square, ate dinner, all the usual. I hope the village we visit will let us in; I couldn't bear to miss those brightest days of the year. I mean, I love celebrating, and…I suppose I know that going to All Saints' wasn't really what…what took Luke from me in the end.

I'm sure we can celebrate the holidays with people in these villages. I think people are more goodhearted than people give them credit for.

3 September 1621

Our last day in this town. It hasn't been long here, and I suppose it's because people here seemed so receptive. It sounds a little odd when I say it that way, but I just mean that people seemed eager to listen to him here. I wish we could stay, but as always I'll keep writing letters back (to all eleven towns so far) and visiting when Simonn and I next go back home (which I suspect will be sometime in winter, if I know Simonn worth anything).

Today was also Luke's birthday. But if I think too much about that I might start crying again. I don't want that to be twice in one day, and I don't want to wake Sigmun up again.

I'll make sure to drink my tea tomorrow. Dolora says I always should, so I struggle less with times like this, but this deceptive sadness likes to trick me into thinking at last it's over.

Someday it will be.

5 September 1621

Sigmun and I were sitting at the fire last night (Dolora went to bed early, like she does, and Simonn was talking a walk in the woods) and he asked, "When you visited home…In July. Did you…did you visit…the clearing? Where we…where we…" He swallowed harshly, like there was something in his throat.

I nodded. "I did. I left flowers for both of us."

He nodded, too. He seemed…not nervous, but tense, certainly. I know he misses our little Luke, too.

"Next time we go home you could come. We could both go visit him."

He shook his head. "Thank you, but no. I think I need to be here."

"I'll leave flowers for you."

"Thank you," he said gently. I think he thinks about Luke more than I do, sometimes. I think he wanted children more than I ever did. I still can't sort out what parts of my feelings about having children are my own and which parts are from the rest of the world. I think I wanted children, at least a little, because I loved-love-Luke with all my heart. But I don't think I'll ever be able to sort out what is mine and what is the world's.

8 September 1621

I met another woman today who reads and writes! I was writing in my book, the one with his speeches, and she sat next to me and said, "You write down his speeches?"

"Yes. I translate them, too. I speak quite a few languages."

She leaned over my book and said, "You have nice penmanship."

"I wish. You should see Dolorosa's."

She smiled. "I'm Elizabeth. It's lovely to meet you."

"Disciple. Lovely to meet you, too."

"Where did you learn to read and write?"

"My mother-in-law taught me. Dolorosa. She's a wonderful teacher. What about you?"

"My mother. Apparently my great-grandmother learned by eavesdropping on her brothers and since then it's been a mother-daughter tradition." She smiled. "A bit odd, I know. But there you have it."

"My mother-in-law learned to read at school, had to leave her family after they found out she didn't want to get married, and then taught Signless and Psiioniic and I as a matter of principle. It's not so odd."

"Signless is your husband, right?"

"Yes. How did you guess?"

"Well, the rings."

"Oh, right." I laughed a little, feeling nervous and silly.

"What about Dolorosa and Psiioniic?"

I almost laughed aloud. "Heavens no. Psiioniic is engaged, but the priest won't marry them because she's Jewish. Dolorosa is determined to be an old maid." I know that most people probably wouldn't run us out of town on a rail if they knew Dolora loved women (Sigmun and I sin the same way she does, though that's no public matter) but I'd rather not risk it. I know too that the love isn't the problem, but I also really do not want to discuss private details of my mother-in-law's life (she might as well be my mother), especially the "sinful" ones.

"Oh."

"What about you?"

She shrugged. "There's a fellow I like a bit. He's going to be a merchant, so he will have money to support me. And I like him well enough. And he'd be gone most of the time."

I didn't say that she reminded me overwhelmingly of my mother, because I did not want to tell that story and she seemed kind. "Is being gone an asset?"

"I don't really think I'd be a good mother, so yes."

"Ah."

"I'm no romantic, but I don't want to live in my parent's house forever. So I think he'd be a good pick. I don't imagine you went along the same lines."

"No, I was extraordinarily lucky. I had a job of my own and my parents and I…don't speak. So I chose him because I love him. And because I think I did want children, once." It's amazing how I find myself spilling all this to whoever I talk to in these villages.

"Once?"

I didn't know how to answer, and she noticed.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. It must be hard sharing your personal life with so many people."

"Thank you," I said. "It's just that I had one child-Luke-and he passed away. And I can't have children, really. Dolorosa, our midwife, said it could be dangerous."

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you." Then, "We can talk about something else if you like. My depressing early marriage surely isn't the most important thing to discuss."

So we talked about reading, mostly the Bible because it's what we'd both read, until it was late enough that she slept in camp with us.

10 September 1621

I started up lessons a few days ago and today there was a massive turnout like I couldn't believe. I know my love is a teacher and a preacher, but I really thought I was just a scribe and translator-not a teacher myself! I suppose, though, that part of being a disciple is spreading the word yourself, and I am doing that, because there is power in reading and writing and I think I'm helping wrest that power from rich men with pale skin. (How melodramatic!)

Anyways, the children learn quicker, of course. But it's gotten easier because Simonn finally agreed to help me out a little. He still likes to prowl around as if we're about to be attacked at any moment, but he helped a little today.

I think Simonn has the sadness, too-he just feels it different. I'll have him take some of my tea tomorrow.

12 September 1621

He made a speech today, like most Sundays. I wrote it down, and started translating, and even got set to prepare some letters and pamphlets to send across the ocean. As soon as we can get someone to transport them across the ocean (hopefully Candas, but anyone will do), I'll be sending them. I hope the message makes it without the people to carry it.

14 September 1621

I talked with Elizabeth again today. I really enjoy her company. I've talked with lots of women in this village, like every village, but Elizabeth and I have been talking a good deal. I don't mean to say that I prefer women who read and write, because obviously most women don't and I don't want to fault them for it when it's got to do with the world and the way we're raised and how men think women shouldn't read and write, and I don't think I think I'm any better than any other women for reading and writing, but I think Elizabeth and I would be friends either way.

A girl I'm teaching named Julianne has the most beautiful penmanship. I was watching her write and she put this lovely little flourish on her e. I'm still getting used to my new signature, so mine isn't nearly as pretty. I was just so impressed, considering she just learned and I've been writing my whole life. What a talent!

15 September 1621

We leave in two days. It feels like a short time, but people have listened here, too. Sigmun's excited to move on, if sad about leaving (as always). Simonn is betraying no feeling, and Dolora is happy to be spreading her techniques. I wish I could talk more to Dolora. She's been my mother since I was young, even though I didn't understand it then.

17 September 1621

We leave tomorrow. But on another topic, I talked with Dolora this afternoon a little. We talked about what we're doing, how our respective jobs are going, the people we've met.

"And how are you?"

"What?"

"How are you, Di-Disciple dear?"

"I'm…alright, I suppose. I haven't thought about it much."

"Dear, it's important, what we're doing. We both know it. But remember to think about yourself a little, alright?"

"I will, Dolorosa. I learned my lesson."

"In that case, remember to drink your tea," she chastised gently.

I felt young, like I'd taken a cookie from the tray before they were cool. I have been forgetting my tea lately.

"I've boiled some water," she said, reaching over the fire to the kettle. "Here you are. I'll get the tea."

I know that I should drink my tea every night, because it helps with the sadness, but it's so easy to forget with everything else going on. Or maybe that's part of the sadness? I honestly don't really know.

19 September 1621

Today was a really lovely day. It was just us, so I hunted for just us, and after Dolora was in bed and Simonn was reading, Sigmun and I went into the woods like we do. It was very nice and I'm exhausted and, admittedly, a little sore (it's easy to get carried away, I suppose). Either way, it was a nice night. And I remembered my tea.

Dolora told me I might have melancholy, I think, since I've been sad most of my life. But she also told me it's manageable, and I'm doing the right thing by relying on my family and eating good food and drinking my tea every night. I'm sure there's something wrong with my head, but I've felt this way for a long time-I know how to handle it.

I have my family. That's all I need.

20 September 1621

First day in a new town. We missed the Sunday, so the big speech won't be until next Sunday (the twenty-sixth, I think), but he'll make little speeches like he does. Well, littler. They're still pretty big, all things considered. Anyways, I spread the word about the writing lessons, and it looks like before long I'll have the usual crowd. Hopefully Simonn concedes to help-I'm sure I'll need it!

23 September 1621

Things have been so incredibly busy lately! Dozens of women and children sitting around writing on whatever surfaces we could find, just practicing letters. I was so amazed to see how quick the children learn. Sometimes I find I'm not the best at talking to children, but the way their faces shine when I tell them how impressive their penmanship is makes me feel so happy. Maybe I did want children? It makes me happy to be around them.

It doesn't matter. The point is the teaching is going well, and I'm glad to see that so many people want to learn. That's the first step in learning something.

25 September 1621

There's a speech tomorrow and we're all trying to spread the word and all that, and it's incredibly easy to tell the people I teach, but not so much some others in the village. As usual, it's harder to convince older men with light skin, and as usual, Dolora and I just talk to women. Men always panic so terribly when they see their wives going somewhere they aren't, and end up tagging along. It's hilarious.

I talked with a woman named Eppie today. She has this really nice curly hair and dark skin and that slanted, thin penmanship like Dolora has. (Most people's handwriting is mostly blocky, but there are differences and trends).

"I've heard Signless talking about equality," she said, and I could tell she was about to discuss and I was quite excited.

"Yes."

"And I was wondering. You talk about equality for women, and people with dark skin, what about women with dark skin?"

"Well, I mean, we believe in equality for everyone."

"But…you understand how it's different, right?"

"Pardon?"

"Well, I mean…it's different being a woman with white skin like you. I don't think you feel the same way I do."

"Then tell me," I said, curious.

So she told me, and she actually told me a lot I didn't know about being a woman with dark skin. Well, I suppose I didn't know much, but either way, I learned a lot. And I'm glad, because otherwise I don't think I would've known.

26 September 1621

Speech today. It was good, but we're all exhausted (or at least, I am), so I'm just going to sleep.

28 September 1621

Simonn was sitting up late, looking into the fire, and so I got up and asked him if he was alright.

"Are you alright?"

"Nothing."

"What?"

"Oh. Um. Sorry. I expected you to ask what was wrong."

"Is something wrong?"

"No!"

"Alright. If you say so. I'm going to sit here with you, though, okay?"

"Okay," he said, and he sounded grateful.

29 September 1621

It's our last day. I wish I could stay in touch with Eppie-we talked a good deal and I like her. I think we'd be friends in another life. I know I'll visit on our travels, and I know someday I'll be able to visit whenever, after the world changes, but I still miss all the towns we leave. All thirteen of them.

30 September 1621

We left town today. These feel shorter and all that, but I felt like we made so much progress. I taught dozens of people to read and write, I learned about how it feels to be a woman with dark skin, Sigmun spoke to almost the whole village, and we got through to a lot of people, I think.

I hope it goes this well every time!

A/N: Thanks everyone for being so patient with me! I just graduated high school, so there's been kind of a lot going on lately, which is why I haven't been writing as much. I should be back to a more regular schedule over the summer! And shout out to the guest who commented about writing about these characters in other timelines, not knowing I've written about ten or eleven full-length stories that amount to basically AUs of this AU.