#SHE CAST GEAS. ON HER DAUGHTER.

[bisexualautism]

"Oh my god Suvi! I can't believe he would think he had the approval of the citadel to do that to a great spirit! Isn't it horrible what people get up to when they're far from our watchful eye and guiding hand? Isn't it so terrible what kind of infrastructure they'll go and build all on their own with imported materials? It's such a shame I couldn't have been there to stop it before you and your friends went ahead and did it on your own. Thank god that isolated incident is over and you can come home to do your very important job that strokes your ego and reenforces your loyalty to the citadel."

[madamegoodparty]

"AT ANY COST" ????????

My distrust of Steel has been super vindicated ohhoHO man.

Like, on the surface it SEEMS that everything is on the up and up. Steel is telling Suvi exactly how the plan will work. She's recording their conversation. She's praising Suvi by calling her "brilliant" over and over.

But that's what makes the Geas even more sinister, imo. Not only does Suvi not have the option of saying "no" -- but it's arguably one of the worst things that could be done to her specifically. Yes, Steel is laying out the plan step-by-step. But she's not telling Suvi exactly what hiding this music box is supposed to do. She left that very crucial detail out.

Aabria has said before that Suvi can handle just about anything as long as she has all the information. In this very episode, as Suvi struggles to remember the compulsion being cast on her, she says: "I know, and that makes it okay" before surrendering.

But she doesn't know, does she? Not really -- not the knowing that truly matters. It was stolen from her. Aabria literally describes the whole process as "an obliteration of agency and understanding." And worst of all, Steel tells Suvi she must follow the orders she'll have no memory of receiving "at any cost".

Not only does Suvi risk running afoul of the witches, she also may be harmed by the very spell her beloved guardian put on her. There is a chance, however slight, that Suvi could die.

And she would die without truly understanding why.

I have no doubt that Steel loves Suvi deeply. But she is, first and foremost, the Sword of the Citadel. Before Steel and Suvi are mother and daughter, they are soldier and commander.

"You will do this. And it will work."

[docpiplup]

Upcoming series: Ena

In September, the filming of Ena began, a biographical series that will focus on the life of Victoria Eugenie of Battenberg, queen of Spain through her marriage to Alfonso XIII between May 31, 1906 and April 14, 1931, after being the monarchy deposed later by the proclamation of the Second Republic. Great-grandmother of the current king Philip VI of Spain, of whom she was godmother at his baptism. Throughout six chapters, the series will tell the life of Victoria Eugenie and at the same time offer a portrait of a time that changed the world, the first half of the 20th century, from 1905 to 1945. Born on October 24, 1887 in Aberdeenshire, Scotland, Ena was the daughter of Henry of Battenberg and Princess Beatrice, youngest daughter of Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom and Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha. Her godmother was Eugenia de Montijo, empress consort of France as Napoleón III's wife. The name of the series comes from what her friends and family called her since she was little, Ena.

The fiction is based on the novel of the same name by Pilar Eyre. Javier Olivares, who was behind the acclaimed Isabel and El Ministerio del Tiempo, will be the showrunner and plot manager for Ena. In addition to Olivares, the script is written by Isa Sánchez, Daniel Corpas and Pablo Lara Toledo. The series will be directed entirely by women: Anaïs Pareto, director of the series as a whole, in addition to four episodes, and Estel Díaz, who will direct two episodes.

“Ena is the portrait of historical moments that seem distant but are not so far away, because without them we would not understand the times we live in now,” Olivares declares in the press release sent by TVE. The writer and screenwriter remembers that Victoria Eugenie “fought to be happy in a bitter time, in which she witnessed two world wars, a civil war and a great pandemic, the tortuously called Spanish flu.”

For Pilar Eyre, author of the novel, she was "an extraordinary woman: cultured, supportive, liberal-minded, modern and very loyal." And she is excited because "finally all Spaniards can know" the story of a "misunderstood" woman. in their time, which they will always consider foreign." It is a fiction co-produced by RTVE with Ena La Serie AIE, La Cometa TV and Zona App. José Pastor, director of Film and Fiction at RTVE, has pointed out that "it is a "RTVE is proud to be able to portray this interesting historical character, from the point of view of two women directors and with Javier Olivares as showrunner, in one of its best series."

The Spanish actress of Anglo-Danish descent Kimberly Tell will play Ena and Joan Amargós will play Alfonso XIII. For her part, Elvira Mínguez will play Maria Christina von Habsburg-Lothringen, mother of Alfonso XIII. The cast is completed by Lucía Guerrero (Beatrice of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha), Raúl Mérida (Alfonso of Orleans and Bourbon), Juan Gea (Álvaro Figueroa y Torres, Count of Romanones), María Morales (María del Carmen Angoloti y Mesa, Duchess of Victoria), Pedro Mari Sánchez (Rodrigo de Saavedra y Vinent, Marquis of Villalobar), Luisa Gavasa (Eugenia de Montijo) and Joaquín Notario (José de Saavedra y Salamanca, Marquis of Viana)

Mariano Peña will play Miguel Primo de Rivera; Jaume Madaula will play the anarchist Mateo Morral, author of the attack committed at the royal wedding; Tomás del Estal will be Emilio María de Torres y González-Arnáu, and Ángel Ruiz will once again give life to Federico García Lorca, a character he already played in El Ministerio del Tiempo, among others.

The series will be filmed entirely in natural exteriors and interiors, like the Royal Palace of Madrid, the Palace of La Granja de San Ildefonso (Segovia), the Palace of Santoña (Madrid), the Palace of Fernán Núñez (Madrid), the Fort of San Francisco (Guadalajara) and the Magdalena Palace (Santander), built in 1911 by the City Council as a tribute to the monarchs and where Ena spent a good part of her summers in Spain, accompanied by the Royal Family. Filming for the series will continue until the end of December.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, the Magdalena Palace is going to be an important location during the series as a summer palace, the main filming location in Gran Hotel, and in that series Ena appeared in the episode 3×13, played by Aída Filx.

Apart from that, are we getting an Olivaresverse (XD)? Most likely not, and it's just references about his previous works as a showrunner, but there are connections between Isabel, Emdt and Ena: Michelle Jenner starring Isabel as Isabella I of Castile, then appearing in a couple of scenes in Emdt episode 1×04 and being an important figure in the lore as the foundress of the ministry (& Eusebio Poncela playing as Cisneros in both series, and also he played Cisneros in the film La Corona Partida and the Carlos Rey Emperador series); Alfonso XIII is a descendant of Isabella I of Castile; Ángel Ruiz appeard as Lorca in Emdt in 4 episodes and now he is on Ena playing as Lorca again, we don't know yet how much screentime he will get or which will his role be (secondary character most likely), but it's great to see more about him!

[rainywerewolfmoon]

Tales Of Fairyland

Ao3 link here Tales Of Fairyland - Chapter 13 - Princessmh9 - Original Work [Archive of Our Own]

Chapter 13: Family Bonds

{Genevieve rushes through the castle, clutching the hairbrush tightly, her heart pounding with urgency. She knows that time is of the essence in their mission to rescue Elara and the twins. Her destination is the Royal Healer's room, where she hopes to find Reed, the healer who has tended to the royal family for generations. Reed's room is filled with the soothing aroma of medicinal herbs and potions. Shelves are lined with jars containing various remedies, and sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the space. Genevieve knocks on the door and, without waiting for an answer, enters the room.}

{Genevieve} Reed are you in here?

{Reed steps out from behind a bookcase and smiles at Genevieve.}

{Reed} Hello Princess Genevieve. What can I do for your highness?

{Genevieve holds out the hairbrush as she looks at him determined.}

{Genevieve} Elara is under a geas. And me and Ash believe its because of this hairbrush. Can you take a look at it please.

{Reed's expression shifted from a warm greeting to one of concern as he took the hairbrush from Genevieve.}

{Reed, with a hint of worry} A geas, you say? That is indeed troubling. Let me examine the hairbrush and see if there are any enchantments or curses on it.

{Reed carefully inspected the hairbrush, his experienced hands tracing over its bristles and handle. After a few moments, he began to mutter incantations softly, his fingers moving with precision.}

{Reed, his voice low} There is magic here, Princess. Dark and twisted magic. It's designed to bind someone's will and force them to act against their nature.

{Genevieve's eyes widened with worry.}

{Genevieve, anxiously} Can you break the geas, Reed? Elara and the twins are in danger.

{Reed, focused} Breaking a geas is a delicate and complex process, but it can be done. However, I need more information. Who cast this geas, and what were the circumstances surrounding it?

{Genevieve, determined} We suspect the Court of Shadows is involved. Elara and the twins disappeared mysteriously, and me and Ash believe they have gave her it.

{Reed, nodding in understanding} The Court of Shadows... A formidable adversary. If they are indeed responsible for this geas, it adds another layer of complexity to breaking it.

{Reed continued his examination, his brow furrowed in concentration. As he worked, Genevieve couldn't help but feel a growing sense of urgency. Elara's safety depended on their ability to unravel the dark magic that bound her.}

{Reed} Give me a few suns to work out a way to break it, your highness. I know time is of the essence, but we need to be careful as I am afraid it is a very powerful geas, the most powerful one I have ever encountered.

{Genevieve} Thank you, Reed. Please do keep me informed.

{Genevieve walks back out of the room and sighs. It's been a moon now since Elara went missing, and Genevieve misses her dearly. She makes her way back to Elara’s bedroom, the memories of her daughter making the room feel both empty and full of life at the same time. As she enters the room she smiled as she sees Ash standing at the window.}

{Genevieve} Missing our Little Star are we love?

{Ash turning his head to look at her} You know I am. I miss her everyday.

{Genevieve smiles softly as she turns to look at a painting of her Ash and Elara when she was five stars old.}

{Ash} I remember when we had that portrait done. Elara was glad that it was over.

{Genevieve chuckling} Yes getting her to sit still was very hard. And then remember what she asked for that Yule.

{Ash smiling} Yes a new sibling. I thought you were going to choke to death on your Meed.

{Genevieve} I remember that Yule very well. Elara always had a way of surprising us, didn't she?

{Ash} She did, and I wouldn't have it any other way. She's our Little Star, and we'll find her, Genevieve.

{Genevieve nods, her eyes glistening with determination.}

{Genevieve} We will, Ash. We'll bring her back home where she belongs.

{She leans her head on his shoulder.}

{Genevieve} Do you think when we find Elara we should give her wish?

{Ash} It's a lovely thought, Genevieve. Elara has always had a big heart and a strong desire to help others. If she still wants a new sibling when she returns, we can certainly consider it. Our family will always be open to more love and laughter. But what about you Genevieve? Being pregnant with Elara was not easy on you and the way I treated you when you were six moons was atrocious. And let's not forget that you almost died giving birth to Elara.

{Genevieve} You're right, Ash. The pregnancy and birth were difficult, and I know I put you through a lot during those times. But Elara brought so much joy and light into our lives. She's been our greatest blessing. If Elara wants a sibling and we decide to have one, I'll do everything I can to make sure it's a healthy and happy experience for both of us. After all, our love has always been a source of strength, and I believe it will guide us through whatever challenges may come.

{Ash} You've always been incredibly strong and resilient, Genevieve. I have no doubt that you'll handle it with grace and courage, just as you always have.

{They share a tender moment, grateful for their love and the hope of reuniting with Elara someday.}

{Genevieve} Thank you, Ash. We've faced many challenges together, and I know we can overcome whatever lies ahead. But for now, let's focus on finding Elara and bringing her back to our family.

{Ash} Agreed. Our priority is reuniting with our Little Star. Together, we'll make sure she returns safely to our arms.

{They hold each other close, determined to continue their quest to rescue Elara from the Court of Shadows. As they held each other close, Genevieve and Ash drew strength from their love and the unbreakable bond they shared. Their determination to rescue Elara only grew stronger, and they knew that no matter the challenges they faced, they would face them together. With renewed resolve, they began to make plans for their next steps in the search for their beloved daughter, trusting in their love and the support of their family to guide them through the shadows that lay ahead.}

...................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

{The dining hall was aglow with the eerie, purple flames of the candles, their flickering light casting long, dancing shadows across the grand room. The table was set in a regal fashion, adorned with fine silverware, crystal goblets, and a lavish spread of dishes, showcasing the culinary skills of the castle's chefs. There was Small, succulent quails had been roasted to perfection, their tender meat adorned with a rich and slightly sweet berry glaze. The crimson hue of the glaze glistened in the candlelight. There was a creamy risotto. There was also a whole salmon had been poached to retain its natural moisture and flavor. There were Garlic and Herb Roasted Potatoes, Steamed Asparagus Bundles, Fresh Garden Salad, Warm Bread Rolls.

The grand finale of the meal featured an assortment of desserts, including miniature fruit tarts with flaky pastry shells, velvety chocolate mousse, and a platter of fresh berries. Seated at the head of the table were Sablethorn and Nocturnia, exuding an air of authority and dark elegance. Starlessia, their prized daughter, sat next to them, her demeanor a mix of curiosity and obedience. Willow and Aurora, still adjusting to their new surroundings, sat nearby, their expressions a blend of uncertainty and trepidation. As they began their meal, conversation was kept to a minimum. Sablethorn and Nocturnia exchanged glances and whispered discussions in hushed tones, their plans shrouded in secrecy. Starlessia, though not entirely understanding the complexities of the situation, sensed that something significant was unfolding.}

{Starlessia looking at Willow and Aurora} Why ant you eating? Don’t you like the food?

{Willow and Aurora exchanged nervous glances before Willow finally spoke up.}

{Willow, hesitantly} It's not that, Starlessia. The food here is amazing. It's just... we're not used to this kind of food. This is dark food.

{Aurora, nodding} Yeah, we're just not used to such fancy dark dishes.

{Starlessia} Oh, I see. Well, you can try a little bit of everything. I'm sure you'll like it.

{Willow and Aurora smiled at her kindness and decided to follow her suggestion, taking small portions of the dishes to sample.}

{Sablethorn} Willow and Aurora are you enjoying you new life here?

{Willow and Aurora shared a glance before Willow nodded and spoke up.}

{Willow, with a smile} Yes, Your Majesty. It's different from what we're used to, but we appreciate the hospitality and the chance to learn new things.

{Aurora} And we're grateful for the opportunity to be with Starlessia and to have a safe place to stay.

{Starlessia nodded in agreement, her eyes filled with genuine affection for her friends.}

{Sablethorn} I'm pleased to hear that, my dear. You two are special to Starlessia, and we welcome you as part of our family. If there's anything you need or any concerns you have, don't hesitate to let us know. We want you to feel at home here.

{Aurora} Will me and my brother ever be able to go home?

{Nocturnia} No you wont be as this is your home from now on.

{The twins look at each other sadly at this.}

{Aurora, while still apprehensive, tries to understand the situation.}

{Aurora} But... we don't even know this place. How can it be our home?

{Starlessia, with a comforting tone} Aurora, Willow, you'll have us as your family now. We'll make this place feel like home, and you won't be alone.

{Sablethorn} And as for the castle, we're taking all precautions to keep you safe. It's for your protection, my dear we are moving it. The Sellie Court won't find you here.

{Willow} Can we at least visit our old home someday?

{Nocturnia} No you can't. Never again.

{Starlessia} We'll make wonderful memories together here, I promise.

{The twins, still uncertain, nod slowly and continue their meal as they all set in silence.}

{Aurora, while still apprehensive, tries to understand the situation.}

{Aurora} But... we don't even know this place. How can it be our home?

{Starlessia, with a comforting tone} Aurora, Willow, you'll have us as your family now. We'll make this place feel like home, and you won't be alone.

{Sablethorn} And as for the castle, we're taking all precautions to keep you safe. It's for your protection, my dear. The Sellie Court won't find you here.

{Willow} Can we at least visit our old home someday?

{Nocturnia} We promise to discuss that possibility in the future, once it's safe. Your wellbeing is our main concern right now.

{Starlessia} We'll make wonderful memories together here, I promise.

{The twins, still uncertain, nod slowly and continue their meal.}

...................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

{Aurora sat in her room, a space adorned with hues of lavender and silver. The walls were painted in soft lavender tones, adorned with delicate silver patterns that seemed to shimmer in the gentle candlelight. Her bed was draped in lavender silks, with silver-framed mirrors adorning the walls and reflecting the soft, calming glow of purple-flamed candles. The window, framed with lavender curtains, revealed the stormy night outside. Raindrops raced down the glass, occasionally accompanied by distant flashes of lightning and rolling thunder. Aurora's room felt cozy and safe, despite the tumultuous weather beyond. Aurora's eyes filled with tears as she looked around her room. She missed her old home dearly, and the storm outside only added to her sense of unease. A knock on her door made her turn around and Willow walks in with a sad look.}

{Willow} Sister, I miss mother and father.

{Aurora turned to face her twin, Willow, and saw the same sadness reflected in his eyes. She nodded, tears welling up in her own.}

{Aurora, her voice choked with emotion} I miss them too, Willow. And our old home. Everything's changed so quickly, and it's all so overwhelming.

{Willow} And Elara is different now. She not herself no more.

{Aurora's heart ached at the mention of Elara's name. She had noticed the change in her friend as well.}

{Aurora, softly} Yes, something happened to Elara. She's not the same. But we'll find a way to make things better, Willow. We'll help her and ourselves too. We have each other, and we'll get through this together.

{Willow} Can I stay with you please sister? I cant sleep with this storm.

{Aurora} Of course, Willow. You can stay here with me. We'll keep each other company and hopefully, the storm will pass soon.

{Willow climbs into Aurora's bed, and the two siblings huddle together for comfort as the storm rages outside. In their embrace, they find solace and warmth, facing the unknown future with a glimmer of hope.}

{Aurora} We'll get through this together, Willow. We'll adapt to this new life, and who knows, maybe things will get better in time.

{Willow, her voice trembling} I hope so, Aurora. I just miss how things used to be.

{Aurora holds Willow closer, offering him the comfort of a sister's embrace. As the storm continues outside, the two siblings drift off to sleep, finding strength in each other's presence.}

[achilleid]

Main Cast of Characters

Cyra Selzar; known as Cyra “Paleblood”, she is the half-Folk/half-human child of Aisline Selzar and Noah Clark. It has been her ambition to be inducted as a Hound into the Wild Hunt, commanded by her uncle. Hounds are highly respected and elite members that serve as the Queen’s army, a status Cyra covets to prove her worth.

Enaid Selzar; an Unseelie Folk, daughter of Druth and Eithne Selzar. She is enamored with the human world and thus bonded quickly with her cousin. With a powerful control over magic, much is expected of her, but she has yet to take her responsibilities seriously.

Druth Selzar; an Unseelie Folk, the current leader of the Wild Hunt and Cyra’s uncle. When she was a child, Druth imposed a geas upon his niece that she could only ask him one question a day, but he would answer this question without deceit.

Lasrén Blackfern; a Seelie Folk and captain over the recruits for the Wild Hunt, despite his own lack of enthusiasm for the competition. He has held contempt for Cyra since her arrival to the Sidhe as a child. He too is an orphan of sorts.

Fianna Mintleaf; a Seelie Folk and a skilled archer. Cyra is one of her close friends and a fellow recruit. Born with wings, a trait often rare among the Folk, she is a very highly sought after huntress.

Eimer Zircon; A Seelie Folk and commander of the new recruits to the Wild Hunt. Lasrén reports to him and considers Eimer his only friend.

Queen Nevan; A Seelie Folk and current queen of both the Unseelie and Seelie courts. She is the descendant of Queen Titania, the first Seelie Queen. The Wild Hunt serves her.

Legacy Characters

Queen Titania; A Seelie Folk and the first Queen of the Seelie. She waged war against her counterpart, Queen Mab for ions. After defeating her, she and her descendants ruled both the Seelie and Unseelie. As is common of the more powerful Folk, her energy, magic and her memories have reincarnated into Queen Nevan. Queen Mab; An Unseelie Folk and the first Queen of the Unseelie. Her death marked the end of the Unseelie’s independence and sparked a secondary war when her own grand commander went mad with grief.

Far Dorcha; A Seelie Folk who betrayed his own queen to serve as Queen Mab’s grand commander. After her death, he went mad and waged war upon Queen Titania and her people. In a last act of defiance, his death cursed the Sidhe, creating the Lacuna. The Lacuna is a dark hurricane that devours the land it touches and saps the magic from the world and the Folk who are caught in it. 

[thecloserkin]

book review: Jeannette Ng, Under the Pendulum Sun (2017)

Genre: Gothic fantasy

Is it the main pairing: Yes

Is it canon: Yes

Is it explicit: No

Is it endgame: Yes

Is it shippable: It is lit

Bottom line: HOW IS THIS BOOK EVEN REAL. When they put me in the ground I hope they bury me with a copy of this book so I can read it in the afterlife.

Miss Catherine Helstone, a clergyman’s daughter, sets sail for the infidel lands where her brother Laon is a missionary and from whence his letters home have grown increasingly cryptic and erratic. The twist is, he’s not spreading the Good Word in India or Africa or the New World — he’s in Fairie asdfgkkjkdfjdk. Catherine hasn’t seen him in three years. She’s so worried about him that she strong-arms the Missionary Society of London into bankrolling her ticket to Arcadia, on the grounds that the previous guy who held the post met a messy & mysterious end, and she is the properest person to prevent the same fate befalling Laon. Because she’s highkey in love with him. Well, that revelation takes half the book to unfold, however the opening line is “My brother and I grew up dreaming of new worlds.” For the first 25% of the book she doesn’t even lay eyes on Laon, she just shows up in Arcadia and stays in his house while he’s gone on some unspecified errand. And what a house it is.

I feel like I’ve spent my whole life reading about impossibly grand, potentially sentient haunted houses. Such houses are drenched in secrets. You need a first-person narrator to really experience the affect of the house, preferably someone who’s unfamiliar with the setting and disoriented by the mind games it plays: Jane Eyre in Mr. Rochester’s house leaps to mind. Jane Eyre btw nearly marries her first cousin to take up the missionary life with him (before deciding to go back to Rochester). See, the reason Jane’s cousin proposed to her was because ties of blood were thought to be not strong enough to bind—when you’re out in the field converting heathens you need an acknowledged romantic attachment. So the fact that Cathy follows her brother to Arcadia tells you everything about how important he is to her. She would have followed him to perdition. Think of that immortal Sylvia Plath quote: I love him to hell and back and heaven and back, and have and do and will.

To return to the subject of incest in haunted houses: The Fall of the House of Usher? Atmospheric, creepy af, but the implied relationship is presented decidedly unsympathetically. The Thirteenth Tale? The incest is canon but you are not supposed to be rooting for the incestuous couple. Crimson Peak? She’s mentally ill and it’s not even the fucked-up kind of shippable a la Jaime/Cersei. Flowers in the Attic? Shippable, but the dubious consent squicks me out. A Spell of Winter? Comes closest, in that they were 100% in love, but it was a situational in love if you know what I mean—where is my tormented passion with 200 pages of obsessive pining??? Now do you see why I lost my fucking mind when I read Under the Pendulum Sun? I have been waiting for this book for MY ENTIRE GODDAMN LIFE.

Laon may be absent from the house, but he is very much present in Cathy’s thoughts. She can’t go five paragraphs without mentioning some innocuous detail, fondly remembered from their shared childhood.

In youth, I had shared Laon’s restlessness. University had only nourished and nurtured his ambitions, but education had stifled mine. I had been taught to tame my wild impulses and desires that had agitated me to pain. I had folded it with my soul and learnt to drink contentment like you would a poison. Drop by drop, day by day. Until it became tolerable.

If this isn’t shades of Cersei & Jaime, mirrors cracked by patriarchy!!! Seriously this is exactly how Cersei must have felt, after 8 years of crossdressing in each other’s clothes, the day the master-at-arms put a sword in Jaime’s hand and she got… what, embroidery? Cathy cried the first time Laon went off to Latin & Greek lessons without her. He smuggles his books to her afterwards, of course, and they do spend plenty of time poring over the classics together. But it’s not the same as being granted that education in her own right. In the great tradition of clergymen’s daughters, Cathy is “genteel enough to be educated and accomplished, but never useful. Caught between the world of labour and that of letters,” she goes on to become a lady’s companion and later a governess—which for a gently-reared lady is a kind of social death. Jane Fairfax in Emma certainly saw it that way. Wellborn women generally embark upon the vocation of governess as an avenue of last resort. Which is to say, there’s not a lot of scope for independent ambition for a girl in Cathy’s position. She’s twenty-five when she comes to Arcadia, and what is incredible is not that she doesn’t mention any suitors or romantic dalliances but she doesn’t even mention any friends by name. It’s like her whole world is Laon, her thoughts are consumed by him, her memories are dominated by him. It must have been very lonely growing up on the Yorkshire moors.

When I was young and I walked on the moors with Laon, I could not imagine a wilder place, given over to nature. The biting chill in our faces and the mists hanging over the endless, treeless dales. We chased each other, through the rippling heather, through ruined farmhouses. We would pretend that we were the only people left alive in the world.

And so, here I was: clutching the compass he had left behind, knot tightening within my heart, under the light of the pendulum sun.

Mark that metaphor of the knot tightening around her heart—it will continue to crop up. She’s been in love with him a long time, even if she won’t admit it to herself. Ffs he left her a compass when he took up his missionary duties, and if that isn’t a metaphor for his heart I dunno what is.

Laon and I used to play games, scaring each other under the sheets … I still remember huddling against him, hooking our fingers together and promising under every token that we held sacred that if one of us were to die, we would come back and haunt the other.

This is at once wholesome and macabre—they would give up heaven and hope of salvation in order to HAUNT the other as a GHOST because they’re that scared of being separated from each other? ICONIC.

I longed to hear my brother’s sermons again. He had a passion that surged under the measured cadence of his voice and, more than that, I had begun to miss his discordant singing.

She misses his sermons! She misses his voice even if he can’t carry a tune! She misses everything about him!

I missed Laon. I used to tickle him in church to keep him awake. All too often, we’d giggle and bicker under our breaths until our father cast us a stern gaze from the pulpit and we’d silence. I’d keep holding his hand, though, as he needed my nails in his palm to not fall asleep.

He would reach across the table and wind my hair behind my ear. Reaching for a pin to secure the distracting hair, I told myself that it was nonsense to miss the softness of his touch or the stroke of his fingers.

That night, I dreamt. Laon and I were children again, when his hands were no bigger than mine. We were running, tumbling through the heather …

I tried to imagine his voice. I remembered the curve of his ears against my lips and the warmth of his hands in mine. We had not laced together our fingers for a very long time. He didn’t even shake my hand before he left.

This girl sure spends a lot of time thinking about holding her brother’s hand!!! Here the text begins to tease at the rupture that happened before he left, and the non-supernatural causes of their long estrangement. Oh here she is asking theologically thorny questions of her tutors at boarding school:

My palms stung for days afterwards as I was whipped for impertinence. I gritted my teeth through the pain as I wrote to Laon about it, my letters curling all wonky.

Awwww he’s her #1 confidante, the one she turns to for comfort and validation. It’s been tough not having him around these last few years:

More than ever, I missed Laon. I wanted to tell him about this, to press my forehead against his and whisper to him what I knew like old secrets shared in the dark under blankets and sheepskins.

It’s just that everyone seems to take Cathy for granted—offhand she says she’s darned more socks than educated young minds—and Laon is the only one who sees her and values her. Every memory of their childhood closeness is somehow sweet as well as mega suggestive?! Here are some more super suggestive lines:

”You don’t only ever want things you could have.”

”It is dangerous eating forbidden foods.”

That last line refers to the well-known injunction against mortals eating or drinking anything while sojourning in the faerie realm: Once you taste fae food the Fair Folk get to keep you forever. In the mythology of this story, it’s okay to eat as long as you sprinkle salt on it first. You have to put salt in everything you consume, though, even your hot chocolate—just another reminder that Arcadia is inhospitable and alien and if you set one foot wrong your soul is forfeit. For the moment Cathy is confined to the manor, because there’s a geas that guarantees her safety on the property but not beyond it. So she wanders around this creepy-ass house that features doors into empty air, lanterns guttering out, moths that eat away the ink on your parchment. The other inhabitants include: A ghostly housekeeper she never sees, a gnome handyman lately converted to Christianity, and a changeling fae girl who Cathy suspects to be her brother’s mistress. Cathy obtains the journals of Reverend Hale—the priest who preceded Laon—and sets to work deciphering them.

My brother’s house became to me a place of questions without answers.

Later on, when Laon returns, he straight up begs her to leave it alone:

”Don’t do this,” he pleaded. “Don’t try to solve this place. It won’t end well.��

This, of course, is the sort of admonition ignored by the heroine of every Gothic romance—warnings destined to fall on deaf ears as she plunges ahead to unravel the mystery. Ok but let’s talk about the scene where Laon comes back, encounters Cathy and concludes she is a PHANTOM conjured up to torment him:

”If you are trying to seduce me, spirit, I’m afraid I’m quite incapable at the moment.” “I … I am your Cathy. Your sister.”

But of course any spirit would take the form of his sister, the person dearest to his heart. “Seduce” is an interesting word choice, isn’t it? But listen to the way she says “your Cathy”!!!

”Why do you plague me so? Does it please you to see me like this? Have you tortured me enough?” ”Is it so impossible that I am indeed your sister? Can you not believe that I could and would follow you? Can you not believe that I have the strength and the love to come? Can you not believe that I would care—“ “Catherine!” His walking stick clattered to the floor.

And then he TAKES HER IN HIS ARMS. They fall down and roll around, his face muffled in her shoulder, and she “dared not look at him” which is code for “if I look at him I will kiss him” until they’re interrupted by a servant and guiltily spring apart. She’s so glad to have him back. Listen to the easy way they tease each other:

”Oh, hush, you are nothing like Lord Byron.” I took the page from him. “Your poetry is abysmal.” “Exactly like him then,” said Laon.

I SNORTED.

”You used to crawl into my bed when there was thunder. I was always fairly sure it was just an excuse, you would fall asleep so quickly when you clung to me.” “You were warm,” I muttered in half confession, avoiding his gaze. “And your bed smelt nice.” “My bed smelt of me.” My voice grew smaller and my fingers agitated. “Exactly.”

HE SMELLED NICE. And who can resist the all-powerful bedsharing trope amirite? The problem is, just because Laon is physically present doesn’t mean he stops being emotionally distant:

I found myself studying the rhythm of his gait, the set of his jaw and the weariness in his shoulders. There was so much between us that remained unspoken, and for all that I could read from the way he moved and held himself, it was not enough.

There are oceans of unsaid things between them. Plus, every time she lays a hand on him—and after their reunion it’s always Cathy initiating the touch—he acts like it physically pains him. How do you react to that, to your brother recoiling from you touch?

”I am not an ornamental hermit,” said Laon, his anger spilling over. I placed a hand on his shoulder and he flinched at my touch but calmed.

The sight of my own helpless brother disarmed me. I reached out a comforting hand to him, laying it on his shoulder … He leaned into my touch and I could see his demeanor soften before he pulled away.

”You need me here, Laon.” I put my hand on his shoulder; he flinched and pulled away. ”You aren’t safe here.” his eyes flickered to me and then away again. “It’s not about that … It’s not that I need you, it’s that I want—“ he stopped. His voice sounded as though it was about to break. He turned and simply left.

Laon does that at lot—breaks off in the middle of sentences. He’ll say things like, ”Is it not enough that—“ and then just stop. Like he has to clamp the words down before he can betray his true feelings to Cathy. He tells her she has to leave in two weeks, which is an entirely arbitrary deadline based on the fact that he can’t stop either worrying about her or wanting her:

”It is very dangerous out there, Cathy. In the mists. Anything … I cannot—“ “What cannot you do, Laon? … Have you not done it all? Have you not gone to university? Have you not left England? Have you not made yourself a grand explorer?”

What he cannot do, and what he longs to do above all, is protect her. He’s been petitioning the Faerie Queen to grant the Church some concessions, like license to travel & preach all over Arcadia, and it doesn’t sound like he’s getting anywhere. Cathy’s presence is both keeping him sane and driving him to distraction.

Though my eyes were on the fire, his were on me. I could feel his gaze on my skin and I ached to touch him again.

She ACHES for hiS TOuCH omg i am L I V I N G. Did I mention she DREAMS about him, like, constantly?

That night, I dreamt of Laon. He lay under a willow in a garden, resting his head on the lap of a pale, pale woman. She wound her arms around him and he sighed as she stroked his face … The dream continued for some time, and when I finally awoke, I found my eyes gritty and sore from unshed tears, and my heart aching.

She later recognizes the “pale, pale woman” as the actual Faerie Queen who invites herself to Laon’s house on a sort of Royal Progress. This is Cathy greeting the queen and registering that she’s the woman from her dream:

I withered under her gaze and that knot of pain in my chest grew heavier and tighter. She smiled, and I could see again those lips brushing against my brother’s ears.

The thing is, Cathy invokes the imagery of lips brushing against ears in reference to her own memories of growing up with Laon, “his lips brushing against my ear in mimicry of a secret.” It gets worse. She’s summoned to the Faerie Queen’s chambers and the bottom drops out of her stomach when she sees the bed:

I remembered attaching my green ribbons to our old sheets. They had been our mother’s in her dowry, and when Laon had inherited them I had sewn on the green ribbons on an extravagant whim. I had worn those ribbons in my hair running through the moors. I remember him trying to snatch them from me as we rolled about in the heather. Those were Laon’s sheets on Mab’s beds.

Those are literally the sheets that made up their mother’s trousseau, that Cathy herself had painstakingly embellished with her own handiwork. In an era when all your clothes and linens had to be hand-sewn without aid of machines, it was indeed extravagant to spend that much time adding green ribbons to a perfectly serviceable set of sheets. The symbolic significance though—Cathy would have sewn them on for Laon, would have expected Laon to sleep on them. WHAT KIND OF FUCKING MESSAGE IS THIS BITCH TRYING TO SEND??? Cathy can’t be blamed for wondering. It makes her blood boil to imagine Laon in the Faerie Queen’s arms. If the goal was to make Cathy insanely jealous by flaunting her hold over Laon, well, achievement unlocked I guess.

The Fairie Queen takes up residence. She insists on (1) a masquerade ball and (2) a boar hunt. The ball is a highly bizarre affair—the dancers are clockwork automatons, the guests materialize out of paintings—but one thing it does is force Cathy and Laon to confront their frankly off-the-charts level of physical attraction to each other:

He loomed over me and I felt that prickle of annoyance that I have known all my life about his height. “You— you’re…”he hesitated before finishing. “You’re quite pretty.” The knot within my heart tightened. I simply could not remember the last time he had remarked upon my appearance. He said nothing when I twirled before him in old dresses on the eve of my first dance at the squire’s house. Nothing when the village girls and I gigglingly contemplated the prospect of marriage and asked his assessment. Nothing when I attended his first sermon in my best dress and mother’s brooch. He must not have done so since we were children. My brow furrowed, trying to make sense of that knot within me. It ached with a visceral familiarity, as though I had borne it all my life without knowledge of it. “I’m sorry,” said my brother. “I should not have said anything.” “No … I hadn’t realized how long it was since you last said that.” A smile wavered at the corner of his lips.

”Cathy, do you think me handsome?” … I took a step closer, to see him better. A flush rose within me, unaccustomed to the nearness of him. Without asking, I reached behind him and undid the ribbon of his domino mask. It fell free of his face, and I kept staring. For the first time in a long time, I simply looked at my brother’s face. It was strange, as I had thought it so familiar, but it was to his moods and changes, the subtle quirk of his mouth or flash of his eyes …. Would she think him as beautiful as I did?

Ok first of all to reach behind someone’s head and remove their mask is the most intimate of gestures. Second of all, Cathy and Laon encounter another pair of siblings at the ball who are codependent as hell and not tryna hide it, of the “he stroked her hair with the lightest of touches…. she drew a nail across the skin of his jaw” variety. Those two are described as waltzing across the floor in a hold “too close to be decent,” which could also describe their relationship in general tbh. What’s interesting is that while Laon and Cathy do not waltz together at the actual masquerade, that night she dreams about waltzing with him. The significance of the waltz versus one of the regular old country dances is the waltz is deemed waaaaay more risqué; you spend the whole dance with one partner and there’s a lot more skin-to-skin contact. Halfway through the ball, the Faerie Queen claps her hands, dispels the illusions that festoon the hall and voila, the fae revert to their true shapes! The singing birds are revealed to be human prisoners in chains! Cathy’s elaborate ballgown disappears!

”Cathy …” My brother choked out my name. I looked confused at his face. He was staring at me intently. The hunger in his eyes was both alien and achingly familiar. That knot within me tightened and I felt a warmth spread across my skin. “You—“ His jaw clenched and his lips pulled into a tight line. He did not stop staring, though, even as I could tell he was trying to stop … I was completely naked underneath the gossamer thin fabric. I could feel my brother’s gaze upon my skin, his study of my shape.

He can’t tear his eyes from her naked body and I don’t care how cliched it is, I am HERE FOR IT. She flees up to her room then, and it’s in the context of her mortifying exit from the ball that she has the dream where she’s waltzing with Laon:

We were at once running through the heather and arguing over his departure to become a missionary. We were bickering over toy soldiers, getting lost in the garden. We were gazing upon our father’s coffin and despairing over our inheritance of debts. All moments of our intertwined lives tangled before me. I felt that old, familiar knot within my chest tighten. My fingers traced against his flesh and I found the words that were written there …. As I read his bound soul, his hands uncovered mine. We followed each unutterable word, each branded red and raw in the book of human skin … I found my own name written upon the book of his soul.

This is (1) unbearably poetic (2) inevitable. Their whole lives have been leading to this. And then the next day she confronts him in the stables before the hunt:

“You can’t do this alone. You need me here.” “You don’t understand, Cathy …” “If not me, then someone else, a wife, Miss Davenport.” My voice was hollow even to my own ears; I did not want him to marry. To utter the words twisted the knotted pain in my chest, the knot I did not want to give a name to. I remembered feeling it every time he flirted with another woman, every time the ladies at church would flutter by and giggle at the prospect of an attachment. I had carried it within myself for so long, heavy as a stone. For the first time, I felt the true weight of it, across my shoulders and tight around my chest. I felt a spinning sense of unbalance even as that weight and pain anchored me. “You need someone and it should be me. You should not be alone here.” “I want you here. More than anything.” “Then why are you sending me away?”

Do you hear that? The weight of her painful passion for her brother has anchored her for so long that she’s unbalanced by the loss of it. When she places the look in his eyes as lust, when the knot in her chest begins to loosen the tiniest bit, she’s flailing bc she doesn’t know what to do with herself. At this point I need to spoil the central twist of this story so I urge you all in the STRONGEST terms to please go read it then come back ok?

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS

Gothic fiction is full of doubles. Not like, literal doppelgängers, but characters whose existence is designed to cast certain traits of the protagonist’s into sharp relief. Fresh off the boat the very first person that Cathy meets in Arcadia is Miss Ariel Davenport, the aforementioned changeling whose function in Laon’s household is unclear. Ariel is weird. She rambles on about esoteric subjects, asks non sequitur questions, and claims an unearned intimacy by calling Cathy by her Christian name. Ariel was swapped for the “real” Ariel Davenport as a baby, and grew up thinking she was human. Here’s how she found out she wasn’t:

”I do know I don’t need food. I don’t starve, I just feel hungry … Ariel Davenport’s family died in a workhouse. I watched them starve when I did not. Whatever fae gears were inside me kept turning.”

What a brutal awakening. Ariel talks a lot about how she doesn’t fit in, how she doesn’t really belong in Arcadia but when she tries to do human things like embroider a handkerchief or love someone there’s an offness to it:

”But it’s not quite the same. Doesn’t come naturally.”

Ariel’s name recalls the spirit from Shakespeare’s The Tempest, who also got a pretty raw deal—she was a genie-in-a-bottle enslaved to a magician with delusions of grandeur— and Ariel Davenport likewise never grows enough of a spine to openly cross her master. Her “master” would be the Faerie Queen, the one at whose court Laon is currently detained. She’s the one pulling all the strings. There’s a reason that Ariel was sent to stay with Laon and Cathy, and the reason, as you may have surmised, is that Cathy is a changeling too. DUN DUN DUN.

That’s the revelation that shatters her. It’s Ariel who discloses the truth to her, a truth the reader has probably divined already from other hints; it’s Ariel who, transfigured into various animal guises, is the quarry of the hunt. Cathy plunges a knife into Ariel’s heart (!) bc someone’s gotta do it, the Queen has decreed Ariel must die for sport and at least this way Laon’s hands will be clean of murder. It’s ok if Cathy does it, she tells herself, because she doesn’t have a soul. And the consummation of her and Laon’s relationship happens right on the heels of that, because you can’t really expect a mainstream audience to be invested in a love scene unless you assure them it’s not really incest since they’re not blood-related, so that checks out. She’s trying to wash Ariel’s blood off when he knocks on her door:

No, Catherine Helstone’s brother. I corrected myself … He was not mine to call my own.

I did not turn around. I did not want to see the look in his eyes. I feared his pity, his revulsion, his anger. I dreaded it all, but above all, I feared his absence.

Ahsjhdjfhdjfd he drops his greatcoat on the floor, rolls up his sleeves, and takes up a washcloth to bathe her:

”We used to share a copper bath like this by the fire,” he said conversationally. I could hear the strain in his voice, see the slight tremble in his motions. “When we were small enough to both fit inside the tub. You hated washing your hair because of the soap in your eyes.” Did I giggle when he upended buckets of water over my head or was I angered? Did I sit patiently as he scrubbed my back or did I squirm at his touch. The water was lukewarm but Laon’s touch was anything but cold. I followed his every movement, the nonsense patterns upon my skin. I was holding my breath, listening to his. I could feel him, warm and solid behind me, his breath hot on my shoulder, at the base of my neck. Shivers spidered down my spine and spread over me. I ached … And then, his hands were on me again, strong, demanding. I revealed in his force; it proved to me that I was not breaking, that I would not shatter. He tightened his grip on my hips and I gasped. Fleetingly, I felt real.

That’s the crux of it. Her entire life has been a sham; being loved by Laon is the only thing that’s left, the only thing that’s real. You can see her already begin to doubt her recollection of the past, wondering “did i giggle…? did i squirm…?” because HONESTLY IT COULD’VE BEEN INCEPTION. HOW DO U KNOW WHATS REAL. She’s spent the first half of the novel spinning us endless anecdotes from her childhood with Laon, and now this happens, it destroys the foundations of her identity:

All my memories seemed so distant. My imperfect, simulacrum mind with its imperfect memories … I told my youth to myself like a story, trying to remember who I was. I told myself about the little papers I wrote with Catherine Helstone’s brother, the names we gave the toy soldiers and the fantastical yet tediously mundane lands they explored … It all seemed so very insubstantial. Except that memory. I flushed warm whenever my thoughts brushed against it. Unlike everything else, I remembered with embarrassing clarity, every touch between us, every biting kiss and each hot breath. I was a moth, speared like a specimen by his scrutiny. I lay under him, pinned. His gaze, his touch, his grip made me real.

This is Cathy two or three days ago talking to Ariel about her earliest memory:

”I always liked to think that my first memory was of Laon. I was three, maybe and we were playing. I don’t remember what, but we were hiding under a table and we had to be very quiet. The tablecloth was red and I think I remember his fingers against my lips.” “Is it real?” “Of course it is,” I said. I touched my fingers to my mouth, lingering on that memory, the vivid feeling of his skin against mine.

If she doesn’t even have her memories of Laon, what does she have??? What is true and what is a forgery? This is from her waltz dream the night before:

We were surrounded by faceless automatons, by soulless far, by mindless beasts. He was the last real thing within these borders, under this unreal sun.

So the Queen and her retinue depart. Cathy and Laon are not atm seeing eye to eye because he’s wracked by guilt for the carnal sin they’ve committed, and she’s wracked by guilt because she, you know, murdered Ariel. I’m not at all surprised at Laon, though—this is after all the man who wrote in his journal:

Sometimes this cross is heavy beyond endurance. I carry it in repentance for the sins of my heart, for that is the same as the sins of the flesh. To look upon a woman in lust is to have committed adultery with her already . I know this and I bear it. I feel that I shall bear it for all my days.

For all his days, he says—he’ll go to his grave loving Cathy and that’s the tea. But right now she’s hurting, and she more or less keeps to her bed:

He did not ask if I was going to leave the room or when; he recognized this childish habit already. I had done it after the funeral of Catherine Helstone’s sister when I was seven and a half, then again for a while after her father’s. I remembered counting the threads in the quilt, willing my world to be just that warm, soft embrace. He had taken care of me then … He still gazed at me in hunger when he thought I wasn’t looking. I yearned for that closeness, that reality, but I could not bring myself to deserve it. Day after day, I ate because he bid me to.

He has looked after her in her grief before and he does so again now. She spends the next few chapters avoiding his name and referring to him as “Catherine Helstone’s brother.” What jolts her out of her funk is, one day they crawl into the belly of a beached whale and catalogue the wonders contained therein. It’s an adventure, and she doesn’t initially go willingly:

Deaf to my protests, he had gathered me into his arms, deposited me onto the floor and proceeded to roll my outdoor stocking onto my feet. Despite my squirming and kicking, he persevered.

Lmao this is peak sibling interaction. Once they’re inside the belly of the beast, of course, it turns into something else:

He was standing very close to me and all at once I was all too aware of him. I forgot why I was fighting so hard to put aside our attraction, forgot all the reasons I gave myself for why I shouldn’t. Each memory seemed to lead me inexorably to this point where I was standing before him, slightly too close and far too afraid. I had not wanted to give name to this passion, not wanted to acknowledge it. I could have gone to my grave not knowing why I felt this ache whenever I saw Catherine Hailstone’s brother. I could have passed this life blind of my own longing and ignorant to his. I could have … He was simply there, too close, too real and too beautiful.

So OF COURSE they tumble into bed in Cathy’s tower room amidst their scribbled notes (they’re working on translating the Bible because “the mother tongue is the best missionary”) and the ink is blotted onto Cathy’s skin holy shit how appropriate is that. All those Greek and Latin texts they pored over as kids, the sermons he practiced on her, all of that was leading up to this: Cathy Helstone, the wife and helpmeet that Reverend Helstone DESERVES. I am strongly put in mind of two other stories stop for a second and hear me out: (1) Pygmalion, the tale of the sculptor who falls in love with his own creation and brings her to life and (2) Tam Lin, the ballad about a fellow who’s abducted by the Faerie Queen and whose ladylove rescues him through sheer grit and pluck—her trial is to hold onto him and not let go while he transforms into every dangerous beast under the sun. In the beginning it seemed like Laon = Tam Lin but now it’s Cathy who’s fallen into the Faerie Queen’s clutches.

we lay curled up against each other like the working dogs used to by the fire. He looked over at me and with a lazy, contented smile on his lips, he said, “Cathy—“

”Don’t call me that,” I said, cutting him short. Panic welled up at the back of my throat at that name. “I’m not —“

”Cathy,” he said again, pressing his face against the curve of my neck. I felt his warm breath upon my skin and giddy pleasure spread from those lips; I calmed. “Let the other be Catherine. And you can be Cathy. You will always be my Cathy and you will always be my sister.” I raised an eyebrow at that, and he had the decency to look sheepish. “And other things, true,” he said. “But either way, you shouldn’t think of yourself as less real. And I do have to call you something.”

”I’m not real.”

”You feel real to me.”

I love how her being “other things” to him doesn’t in any way negate her being his sister. Lord, that “you feel real to me” is everythinggggggg. At the same time I can’t blame Cathy for being assailed by doubt:

”it’s possible that no memory before I set foot on fae soil is real … I can’t trust my own mind.”

”I know my sister like I know my own mind. I would know if you —“

”You thought I was an illusion created by the mists to torment you.”

”I had imagined you so many times … I knew I had to leave, I wanted you too much … So, believe me. I did not doubt you because you are not who I know you to be. I doubted you because of my own weakness. You are the sister I are up with, the sister I have loved and love now. And that’s all that matters.”

Laon goes as far as to try to obtain receipts to prove her realness: They attend a Goblin Market where everything is for sale—for a price. He offers to sell an arm, a leg, a lung and an eye in exchange for Cathy’s memories??? It’s half of him for half her soul, I guess. Find yourself a man who looks at you the way Laon Helstone looks at his sister:

”Cathy, I love you.” Unlike his earlier declarations, he said it quite plainly as though it were an observation about the weather … “I’ve loved you, adored you, desired you for as long as I remember … As a sister, as a lover, it doesn’t matter … You doubt the truth of your mind and your memories, and if this can give you answers … Then I’m willing to pay the asking price for that.”

This speech absolutely melted me. She talks him down from selling an arm for her soul, but I mean, as far as God’s concerned the way she feels about Laon skates perilously close to idolatry:

For all that we had the books of our faith before us, he stood between me and every impulse of religion, even as he reached out to me with the promise of intercessory grace, he eclipsed such hopes of heaven. I had made an idol of him, and for all my excuses that this but a return to the childish hero worship I had once had for him, this went deeper. When he clasped his hand around mine in prayer, when I knelt before him, I thought not of God, that Lord of Hosts, nor of Jesus, the Redeemer, but of him, simply and eternally.

So to recap: Laon and Cathy are holding onto each other for dear life in this godforsaken hellscape of a ruined castle-manor where the weather has to be summoned with arcane spells and the flowers, instead of thriving or wilting naturally, have to be individually painted with the change of seasons. Come to find out, they are literally in hell. Not purgatory, hell itself. Which would explain how all Laon’s proselytizing has amounted to one (1) successful convert. That’s a piss poor track record by any metric. And their lone convert didn’t even accept Jesus Christ as his savior on Laon’s watch. It happened when the other guy, Reverend Hale, was here. What happened was Reverend Hale’s wife decided to take her Communion bread unsalted, and was promptly CONDEMNED TO HELL FOR ETERNITY because remember the first rule of Arcadia: Don’t eat anything unless you salt it. She is the madwoman in the attic, the “woman in black” that Cathy has caught glimpses of from time to time. It was an experiment designed to show that God’s grace extended even unto Arcadia. It didn’t work, but I guess anyone who witnessed this crazy stunt would have developed a newfound respect for humans and their faith. What this means is that the madwoman in the attic is not after all the original Catherine. She is not Laon Helstone’s sister, which was the working assumption of both Cathy and the reader up till now.

A fire breaks out in the kitchen. Cathy and Laon are unharmed by the conflagration. This is because in the house they are still protected by the geas — the one that is centered on Laon, the one that Cathy was told extended to her too because “Blood binds blood. And blood knows blood.” But the entire point of Cathy being a changeling is that she does not share Laon’s blood. Something doesn’t add up. A rider arrives with a letter. It’s dated months and months ago, from the London Missionary Society. Someone has been carrying on a correspondence with Reverend Helstone’s sister in their name, but it isn’t them, and they sure as hell did not sponsor Cathy’s passage to Arcadia. The truth hits Laon and Cathy at the same time:

My mouth was a grave of words, each thought dying there and it was their rot that I tasted, that filled me with gut-wrenching revulsion. He laughed, threw his head back and just laughed. His wide shoulders shook with his senseless mirth until his eyes too were filled with tears. “I thought you were an apparition to tempt me.” His beautiful mouth twisted cruel. “I thought the mist spat you out to make me sin, to pull me down, to drag me to hell. I thought I could outrun myself, my own sins, my own sister. I thought—“ “Laon, no …” I wasn’t sure what I was objecting to, but I wanted him to stop. I wanted myself to stop. “But they did better than that.” I flung myself at him, covered his lips with mine. Tear-stained hands cupping his face, it was not a kiss so much as a hard, stubborn meeting of lips. It needed to stop. Everything needed to stop, to silence. Gasping, he choked out, “You’re my sister.” My cheeks were against his face and my tears were his. We were broken mirrors of one another. “You’re my sister,” he said again. He did not push me away.

!!!!! SHE’S REALLY HIS SISTER AFTER ALL NOT A CHANGELING IT WAS ALL PART OF THE FAERIE QUEEN’S PLAN!!!! Here she is confirming it:

”My grand scheme.” She made a gesture towards the clockwork that framed her throne. “The sins that I have set in motion, the gift that I have given you. Had I not summoned you to Arcadia, would you have seen these wonders? Had I not placed into my own home, remade for your pleasure, would you have realized your love?”

And it wasn’t like she lied about it—the fae can’t lie, after all. That’s why they’re so deadly at weaponizing the truth. She just left a trail of breadcrumbs and let people (aka Ariel) draw their own conclusions, and spill those conclusions to Cathy. You have to admire how elegantly she sprung the trap. And certainly neither Laon nor Cathy appears to regret falling into each other’s arms. It’s just that once again Cathy’s whole world has been turned upside down:

There was an acidic taste at the back of my throat … Our love had been the last pure, real thing that I had clung to and it was slipping away … Every kiss, every caress that had passed between us came to the fore of my mind, now tainted by new, old knowledge.

Okay but you know here is what else Cathy has also said on the subject of forbidden knowledge (one of the oldest senses of the verb “to know” is to know someone biblically):

The world was made with words. If I looked hard enough, I could read those words still. They flowed in the veins of the world, written on their seams. They told me this tree would reach the heavens. They told me nothing was forbidden. They told me knowledge could not be a sin.

Being expelled from Eden was not altogether a bad deal for Adam and Eve. And we are talking Edenic parallels here, since it’s revealed one of the Faerie Queen’s names is Lilith, aka Adam’s first wife. When I was younger and thought myself very superior I was of the Phillip Pullman School of “it is better to know sin than to remain ignorant and innocent,” but it’s not that simple. Cathy and Laon came to Arcadia to save souls; now it looks like they’ve lost theirs. Laon has spent more than half his life wrestling with theology: he is a preacher, and singularly unsuited to doing anything else. I keep circling back to that image of words written on the seams of the world, and I think about Cathy’s waltz dream where she read her name on the book of Laon’s soul, and the masquerade ball before that where they encountered the too-close pair of siblings whose skin was actually branded with words??? Not tattoos actual words of fire. Cathy could only kind-of read them, not being fluent in the Arcadian tongue. Cathy and Laon have spent half this novel translating scripture. Words are the building blocks of reality. If you notice in the passage where she finds out they’ve been sinning this whole time, it opens with “My mouth was a grave of words.” Anyway, Cathy is all to pieces because a person can only sustain so many blows to their sense of self in quick succession:

Lantern in hand, I drifted through the castle, numb from new knowledge: I was human. I was in love with my brother. I was in hell.

She’d need time to process even one of those revelations, let alone all three at once. And in the end they decide to stay in Faerie and do missionary work together. Because, Cathy points out, if “the mother tongue is the best missionary” and here they are in Hell, it can only help their cause that they are both fluent in sin. GIRL, A+ LOGIC. If anyone wants to read a short (<2k) fic about Cathy and Laon embarking on the next chapter of their lives, I highly recommend this one, where the Author’s Note muses, “What's the biggest theologically-evocative Molotov cocktail I could throw in their path?” and the story goes with “Cathy gets pregnant” asddfggkgjgk.

Friends, I do not scruple to say that Jeannette Ng has written the perfect incest book for me. I still can’t believe it’s an unabashed love story. Where the main pairing is canon and also endgame. It all unfolds inexorably, and when I found out Cathy was a changeling it didn’t feel like a cop-out, unlike other stories where “they’re stepsiblings!” or “one of them’s adopted!” absolutely does feel like a cop-out. Because Cathy’s identity crisis is at the core of the story. When I found out she wasn’t a changeling that felt inevitable too. It’s just such a powerful meditation on memory, that most fallible of human faculties. It’s such a power move to saturate the narrative with memories of Cathy and Laon playing as children, and then reveal that even those fragments aren’t necessarily authentic:

We chased each other through the mists, like we were children again, playing on the moors … Was I imagining now how much i had relished his closeness then? Was it simply newfound desire that was igniting all past memories or had I always flushed warm under his gaze?

It’s unlikely had they remained in England they would have gotten together. The Fairie Queen had to pull out all the stops for this to be endgame. Can we all just ... RESPECT.

[evil-is-relative]

Evil-is-Relative Story Post

I’m procrastinating so I thought I’d make some links. (LONG post)

Ysmir and Miraak by Evil-is-Relative

Dragon Kin 

Ysmir has completed all the prophesies for the Last Dragonborn. She's made many enemies along the way, but found the family she never thought to have. Now it seems that she might not be the Last Dragonborn after all, for she has found another in her daughter. Now Ysmir must fight those who would use her child for their own ends, and discover if Alduin truly was defeated, even if that means crossing bridges she already burned. 

93 chapters, 300K+ words. COMPLETE

#Miraak/LDB

#polyamory

#enemies to lovers

#family

#adventure

Short Stories

Dragon Kin: Beginnings

Before she was the Dragonborn, Ysmir was a nameless young girl on the run from the Thalmor that raised and trained her. This is the story of her journey through Helgen, and the day that changed her life forever.

Dragon Kin: Watchtower (NEW)

Months after Helgen, with dragons becoming more numerous, Noyoki is still concentrating on hiding from the Thalmor and forgetting the fire that rose inside her under the gaze of the Black Dragon. Destiny has a way of creeping up on the unwary, and a wrong turn along the road takes her right where she doesn't want to be; in battle with another dragon.

Dragon Kin: Anniversary

Exactly a year after defeating Alduin, Ysmir attends a victory celebration in Whiterun, but without her loved ones, it doesn't feel as though there is a lot to celebrate. Moving forward isn't always easy, but sometimes things just fall into place. Prequel to Dragon Kin: Legends of Skyrim competition prompt. (Winner :D )

Dragon Kin: Prince of Wishes

When Ysmir encountered a stray dog outside of Falkreath, she knew as soon as it started talking it was going to be a pain in the backside. Especially when it turns out the Daedra it belongs to isn't a mischievous little boy anymore. One-shot. Stand-alone. Complete. Written partially for fan theory of Clavicus Vile going through puberty.

The First Dragonborn by Evil is Relative

The Tale of Meric

Long before Alduin was sent forward in time, a young boy is named dovah. The story of how Miraak joined the Dragon Cult. Related to my story Dragon Kin, but meant as a stand-alone. 

#Miraak

#Dragon Cult

#First Dragonborn

Asylum Stories, co-authored with Wynnifredd

Butterflying In by Evil-is-Relative and Sir-Douglas-of-Fir

Asylum

When a curious Dagi-Raht Khajiit gets snowed into an inn with the former Champion of Cyrodiil and current Prince of Madness, things get a little...complicated. Especially because Telki's not the kind to leave well enough alone when there's a riddle to be solved. Co-authored with Wynni. AU for Romulus, my CoC, and her Dovahkiin, Telki.

8 chapters, 50K+ words, COMPLETE

#Hero of Kvatch/Champion of Cyrodiil

#Last Dragonborn

#Romance

#polyamory

#humor

#angst

Asylum 2: The Rescue

When he became Sheogorath after the Oblivion Crisis, Rommy assumed his family was dead. Now, thirty years after the Great War and with the Dragonborn, Telki, by his side, he finally has a chance to find the last of his descendants-and the lost Septim Heir. The only problem is infiltrating the Thalmor to get to him, and protecting Telki from the madness he can never quite contain.

27 chapters, 190K+ words, COMPLETE

#Champion of Cyrodill Sheogorath/ LDB pairing

#polyamory

#family

#adventure

#assassins

#Thalmor

Shell by Evil is Relative

Asylum Side Story, Letters from Shell

Former Thalmor Assassin Shell has a lot of living to do and a whole world to explore. She might not have a home to write to, but she does have her star-crossed Paladin lover—well, if Mara would ever revoke her geas preventing them from being together until Shell's experienced the world some, anyway. These are, quite literally, her letters to the only person she cares to write.

Asylum Side Story, Blame the Fox

All the sons in the Rainer family know becoming a paladin is tough work. It gets just a bit tougher for youngest Justin when an Avatar of the Trickster leads him right to the Prince of Debauchery, and the Daedra's newest form of entertainment.

Asylum 3: Heir Apparent (NEW)

For decades the Empire has struggled to heal itself, but without an Heir to the Ruby Throne it seems it's only a matter of time until it falls to the Thalmor. In the free province of Skyrim, the two Dragonborn are working to build lives for the prisoners they freed from Alinor. Now Imperial assassins are after them, and they'll have to confront the Elder Council to discover why.

Ongoing, projected 40+ chapters

# Champion of Cyrodill Sheogorath/ LDB pairing

#intrigue

#adventure

#family

#polyamory

Other things:

Running the Asylum, by Sir-Douglas-of-Fir, Wynnifredd, and Evil-is-Relative

A Skyrim webcomic crossover between the Asylum’verse and Doug’s comic The Trouble With Skyrim. (Modrim, really, the series has included cameos from both Masterchief and Batman, and jumping through the timestreams  to alternate realities is fairly commonplace thanks to a massive crossover event held with some other Skyrim webcomic artists.)The racist, xenophobic, obsessed, and probably somewhat smelly Ulfric of Dragonborn Shelob’s world takes his defeat by an orc in the Civil War quite badly, gets himself kicked out of Sovngarde, and decides to universe-hop until he finds a dimension where the Stormcloaks won. He lands in Telki’s reality, and things get...interesting.

 The Day They Met the Dovahkiin, by Wynnifredd and Evil-is-Relative

Young Nord Birgir and his best friend, the Ohmes Khajiit Elaini, find the world isn’t always kind to those who are different, and seek to find a way to stay together. Collaboration competition prompt. Technically Asylum’verse, but doesn't’ come up.

Q and A Illustration by Sir-Douglas-of-Fir

Dragon Kin Question and Answer, by Evil-is-Relative

Daedric Prince of Dreams and Nightmares Vaermina hosts this Q&A with the captive, dreaming cast of Dragon Kin. Like a talk show, only in Elder Scrolls.

Comic Q and A: What a Nightmare, by Evil-is-Relative and Sir-Douglas-of-Fir

Vaermina is up to impersonating a talk show host again, this time kidnapping the cast of Trouble With Skyrim for the entertainment of the out-of-Aubris viewers.

8 Facts Meme

Ysmir,   Miraak,   Darva,   Romulus/Rommy,   Dovahkiire

...I think that’s it?

[empresskatariah]

Lore: Irusan, King of the Cats

(Disclaimer: this is in no way actual lore and applies only to my story!)

The Fomorians were the ancient rulers of Britain before the Tuatha De conquered it. Like the Tuatha De, they were lofty folk who used magic as part of everyday life and possessed supernatural powers. They were responsible for creating many fairy races by taking ordinary animals and blessing them with both intelligence and magical abilities.

It was Eithne, daughter of the fearsome Fomorian king Balor, who created the first Cat Sith. Confined to a tower and beset by loneliness, she had one of her handmaidens capture a wild cat in hopes that she might be able to tame it. To her delight, the cat (which she named Arusan) was pregnant and gave birth to a small litter of kittens. But as time passed, Eithne realized that they longed for the wilderness and that keeping them cooped up would be cruel. She had the mother and kittens set free, but kept one kitten for herself; smaller and weaker than the rest, he had been rejected by his mother and Eithne had cared for him instead. She named him Irusan and loved him as she might love her own child.

Years passed and Eithne found that even though she loved Irusan’s company, she desired someone to talk to besides her caretakers. She used her power to imbue Irusan with reasoning, speech and fairy magic so that he might be her equal instead of her pet. He became her best friend and closest confidant, learning songs and stories from her and telling her tales of the outside world after returning from occasional forays out of the tower. He was utterly devoted to her and loved her dearly, vowing that he would only ever consider her his master.

Everything changed when the Tuatha De hero Cian, who gained access to Eithne’s tower thanks to his desire for revenge against Balor and a leannan sith’s magic, impregnated the princess. Irusan was out roaming the moors at the time and when he returned, he found Eithne sobbing as the enchantments Cian had used to seduce her wore off. Feeling violated and afraid of what her father might do if he learned of what happened, Eithne became quiet and withdrawn where she had once been vibrant and full of laughter. Irusan resolved to never leave her side again, ceasing his trips, and stayed with her as she decided to carry the pregnancy to term.

Eithne eventually gave birth to triplets and her father Balor, desperate to avoid the prophecy that his own grandson would kill him, had the babies thrown into the sea. One of them survived and would become the hero Lugh. But Eithne was unaware of this and fell into despair, believing that her father would always take away anything she loved. Irusan attempted to defend Eithne from her father but was easily cast aside and cursed so that instead of being immortal, he would only possess nine lives. In one final gesture of cruelty, Balor imposed upon Irusan a powerful geas: that he would leave Eithne and never return to her side. With that, Balor cast Irusan out of the tower and banished him into the wilds.

Irusan wandered for many years that turned into centuries. He witnessed the fall of the Fomorians, who fled to the sea and transformed themselves into eldritch beasts to abide in the depths. He then witnessed the fall of the Tuatha De, who fled to the Otherworld of Tir na nOg to escape the humans that conquered their lands as they had conquered the Fomorians. He became bitter and spiteful in his loneliness, though he granted other cats the ability to think and use magic as he did, for he pined after the lost Eithne and the love they had shared. Though he was clever and cheated death on many occasions, he took to consuming the souls of recently deceased humans that had not received proper funeral rites in order to bolster his own life-force. However, he did not hate humans and would show favor to them if they performed certain rituals like leaving cream out for him on Samhain night.

Over time he became known as the “King of the Cats,” a title given by humans due to his unusual size (sometimes as large as an ox) and tales that told of his wrath against people who slandered or mistreated cats. He was regarded as neither good nor bad, a wild creature that could bless or curse depending on its whimsy. Another name given to him was Cath Palug and some believed he killed King Arthur, though in truth he merely killed a great number of Arthur’s knights that tried to hunt him down. Though most forgot his association with the Fomorians of old, some legends retained the connection and painted him as a guardian of the Fomorians’ buried treasures.

Irusan’s powers include but are not limited to: shapeshifting, soul-eating, elemental magic, illusions, and the ability to regenerate quickly when wounded. He is not weak to iron like most other fairies because of his origin as an ordinary cat. His appearance is that of a large cat with long and thick hair, all black except for a white streak on his chest, and green eyes.