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coelenterata · 3 years ago

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ooooh if you're writing! Fantine getting some kind of nice Magic Power or Three Wishes or something would be lovely?? :D

I'm sorry again for how late this is!! But here you go, a fairytale trope that isn’t quite three wishes but close enough.

—

“Don’t,” Fantine said, “don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t die, you’ll be alright, you can live, do you hear me, you can’t just die—”

It was more words than she had said at any other point that day. It was more words than she thought were in her, after Felix’s words in that letter had taken all of the few words she had and laughed at them.

All of these words and the only one she was talking to was a horse that was dying, and somebody nearby could hear her probably and these words would be laughed at too, but, but. She could not bear anything dying, right now. Not ever, but especially not right now.

Felix and his friends had left them behind, Favourite and Zephine and Dahlia had left Fantine behind on their own way back home, maybe not on purpose, maybe Fantine had been too slow and stayed behind, she didn't really know, it was all very blurry, she was feeling very unclear, and the horse was dying.

The horse that had fallen earlier, she was very sure, maybe only because she didn't want there to be yet another unhappy thing, but it was the same place, she wasn't that confused or lost, she could still see.

"Don't die," she said, silly, and then, "What do you need, what can I do," and then—

I'll be alright.

This, then, was her mind giving up on her and on her silly heart, maybe, but so many things were not what they had seemed, and the things she thought were true about the world had only gotten her… here.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

I’m sure. If you could get me some water?

“Of course,” Fantine said, “of course.”

She stood up, and she looked around, and she noticed for the first time that it was getting dark, and she stumbled on her hurried way back to somewhere someone might give her a bucket of water, and she was too tired to be embarrassed at their bewildered looks, and she got the water, and she got back.

Her dress was already dirty, and she knelt in the dirt again, and was unsure what to do next.

“I have water. Can you… what can I do now?”

Thank you.

“What can I do?” Fantine repeated, because it felt like things were pressing in on her again, if she didn’t have anything to do then there were so many things that were just… happening.

Slow down. I am alright. You will be alright.

The horse moved, finally, into a slightly more upright position, though still careful about the leg, obviously, obviously, and Fantine pushed the bucket closer, and the horse drank.

Was Fantine going to be alright? She wasn’t sure. She didn’t think so. And in any case, she was in a hurry because Cosette was waiting for her, Cosette who needed her too, Cosette who at least was too young to understand the enormity of everything that had happened today.

Thank you. I will be alright now.

“Are you sure?” Fantine asked. Again.

She did not want to leave anyone alone today.

I’m sure.

Reluctantly, Fantine got up, first because she still felt like she could not leave anyone, and then because it was difficult to stand on legs that were a little unsteady from kneeling on the ground.

But she did stand, and there was nothing else to do, and the horse was starting to look impatient, and Fantine walked backwards a few steps, and then turned.

Wait.

She stopped. Turned back. Felt worry in her throat again immediately.

If you ever need help, call for me, and I will be there.

—

“I’m sorry,” Fantine said to the bird, “I’m sorry that I cannot keep feeding you, I hope you will be happy out there, and safe. I hope you have a better life than I have here.”

It was quite simple, in the end: she could barely feed herself, and letting a bird share her misery just so she could have company… it wouldn’t do.

She opened the cage and opened the window, and the wind blew in, cold, but the sun was shining, and her little bird hopped to the door of the cage and fluttered onto the windowsill and looked so happy to be seeing the world.

“I’m sorry,” Fantine said, and meant it really, suddenly knew it and felt sorry and wanted to cry for the bird, “Oh, I shouldn’t have kept you in here in the first place, should I? I’m sorry.”

You did feed me, and it was warm in here.

It was like that other time, and Fantine wasn’t sure if that made it more likely to be true or more likely to be voices in her head.

She shook her head.

The bird tilted its head, quick, amused.

It’s not anything compared to the whole sky, you’re right. Comfort against freedom, a hard question, if I understand humans correctly.

It would have been nice, Fantine thought, to have either.

If it’s any consolation, I could have left anytime I wanted. Only I do enjoy comfort a little too much.

Fantine didn’t know what to say to that.

The bird sang a little tune.

In any case. Is there anything I’m forgetting? Is there anything you want delivered to someone? Provided it is small enough, mind you, I’m very little, as you might have noticed.

It wasn’t new to see this bird moving incessantly, little twitches and hops, it was as always, but it was strange now that it was part of its conversation with her.

But. Something to deliver.

“Can you deliver a message?” she asked, before she could even think the words properly, stumbled over them, they were coming out so urgently. “Can you tell my daughter something?”

A head tilt.

What do you want me to tell her?

Fantine hadn’t thought about that, and she thought about it now, and she thought and she thought, and there was nothing that would help.

Her love was worth so little if there was nothing else, if Cosette even remembered her, Cosette had been so little when she left her, and Fantine did not have any promises to make about a better life that she had faith she could keep.

And so there was nothing.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I don’t think I have a message to send after all. You do not have to do anything for me.”

Alright then.

The bird hopped a little on the windowsill, and moved its wings, ruffled its own feathers, stretched a little, it seemed, in the sunlight that was at least a little bit warm.

It turned around once more before it flew away.

If you do ever need that message delivered, or something, call for me.

—

“Shhh,” she told the cat, even though she too was shaking, but the cat was warm and alive and didn’t judge her, and she very desperately did not want it to die, “Shh, we’ll be alright, you’ll be alright, I don’t know about me but you will be, I’ll find you a place that has mice enough to feed you your whole life, you’ll see, and you’ll be fine.”

She felt so cold, and she knew the cat was too thin and too near freezing to death to itself be feeling anything but cold, but the cat’s body was warm against hers and she hoped hers was enough, as little as there was of it, to warm the cat.

Warm. Thank you.

The cat was moving closer to her, Fantine thought.

Very weakly, but it was.

She folded her arms carefully around it, bent her head to put her face in its fur even though it was dirty, matted, wet from snow.

“We’ll go somewhere warmer soon,” she said, “Just as soon as I can, and I promise there will be food for you.”

There were barns not far away, she knew, and a cat would be allowed to live there if it took care of the mice, and she was warm for now and then she would go home and she would not freeze to death there, she hadn’t yet and she wasn’t going to, and Cosette needed her, and the cat and her would both be fine.

She tried to get up, and she was only a little shaky, not shakier than she usually was, but she did have to carry the cat.

The cat squirmed a little.

I don’t like carrying.

Fantine stopped, and leaned against a wall to let herself have a moment of rest.

“Can you walk far enough?”

No answer.

“Can you? I don’t want you to feel worse. I want you to get there and be alright.”

The cat buried closer into her arms.

Alright. Fine.

Fantine smiled at it, helpless to do anything else, and started walking again, towards the barns, the general direction of where she thought they were.

It was a long way, and the cat was a strange travelling companion, and Fantine had to stop many times, but they got there, they did.

There wasn’t a way for Fantine to get in, but there was a gap that she thought a thin cat would fit through, hoped this cat could fit through, to go into a warm place, where there would be food to find for a cat.

She set the cat down.

It stood there stretching awkwardly for a very long moment, in the snow, and then it looked at the gap in the door, and looked back at Fantine, and stumbled over to her to rub against her leg.

Thank you.

Fantine crouched, carefully, to scratch the cat’s ears.

“You’ll be alright. Go now, it’s warmer inside. Go and recover.”

The cat bumped its head against her hand, and her leg, and then it turned to go towards its new home.

If you ever need help, call for me.

—

Help, Fantine thought, when the man was bothering her and she was so cold again and he was being so horrible.

Help, she thought, very loudly, into the nothing, into the uncaring universe, please something.

The man kept saying things to her, loudly, meanly, and she was turned away from him and ignoring him and he kept getting louder and then suddenly he stopped in a strange noise, and Fantine stopped in her tracks and turned around.

There was a cat making itself as large as it could in front of the man, and the man recovered from his confusion and tried to kick the cat out of the way and the cat jumped.

And the cat scratched him and hissed at him and bit him and screamed at him and the horrible man ran, because he was a coward after all, wasn’t he, and the cat was very big, and then it sat down and wiped its face, and then it stalked over to Fantine, but she wasn’t afraid.

Hello, the cat said, and then, I think you should have called for help earlier, you do not look well.

It hadn’t even been long since she had met the cat and been offered help, but things had already been bad then.

��I am not well,” Fantine said, “I am not, but what can I do?” and then she remembered manners, and she realized that she was safe for now, and she realized the enormity of the situation, and she sat down in the snow.

The cat sat next to her, leaned into her, and it was so warm, it was so warm and so kind and such a strange miracle.

“Thank you,” Fantine said. “Thank you, cat.”

I do not know how to help you from here. I can stay, but I don’t know what to do for you. What is it that you need?

“I don’t know,” Fantine said, “I don’t know, anything, everything.”

She was going to cry, she thought.

The cat bumped its head against her arm.

If you don’t know and I don’t know, what do we do then? I don’t suppose you have any friends who know things, because they should have helped you by now. Or I will scratch them too.

“Oh,” Fantine said, before she had really finished realizing, and then she was calling again, in her heart.

And before she could explain, her little bird was swooping down to land on her leg, and fly up again as the cat leaned forward, and the cat bent its head apologetically, and the bird landed again, more twitchy.

It looked at her, assessing, and Fantine could see it didn’t like what it saw, before it commented at all.

Done looking, the bird made a noise, unhappy.

What happened to you? What have they done to you? What makes humans leave each other out in the cold like this?

The cat made a noise, too, derisive.

All kinds of things make humans be terrible. You know this. We all know this.

The bird ignored, pointedly, that anyone had spoken.

Who runs your stupid human world in this place? Someone should talk to the mayor. If nobody else is going to, I will talk to the mayor.

Fantine laughed, almost despite herself.

“I will not stop you. But do you know a place where I can go? I know it’s not a message, but if you could do this for me...”

The bird puffed itself up a little.

Let me think, let me think. Humans who will help you, right? There are some who are less bad than others. I have been talking to a few. Hate talking to humans but I do keep needing answers to questions they make me ask myself.

“Someone who will help me?” It seemed too good to be true, but many things were true now that should not be true.

The bird turned its head this way and that, jumped down into the snow and walked a few steps.

It’s not far, but too far for your legs, I bet. If you don’t have a horse, or a cart, which I suppose also needs a horse. Well.

Again Fantine laughed.

Such a strange world she was living in now.

She closed her eyes briefly, again, and called in her heart for the horse she had brought water to so long ago.

And there was the sound of hooves just a breath later, and then there was the horse standing in front of her, in front of all of them, looking at their little council with some confusion.

“Where are we going?” Fantine asked the bird, and the bird which had settled down a little made itself all important puffed up again.

There is a farm, not far, I will tell your horse the way, I don’t trust your human sense of direction.

“We have to get Cosette first. And then… who lives there? What is their name, when I ask to make sure that they are who you mean, what name will they tell me?”

I’ll probably be there soon too, but if you insist on knowing everything, which I suppose I can’t fault you for. Their name is Bahorel.

#pilferingapples #replies tag #my fic

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bookofmirth · 4 years ago

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I agree with the majority that Azriel is not fit to be a ruler of any court but do you think Elain could be connected to the 8th court somehow? I know Nesta is the one with the tattoo but I guess I'm just confused why people would think Elain would be the one to revive the 8th court and not Nesta. Thoughts?

You mean the Dusk Court, right? I know that this theory is floating around but I honestly don't know that much about it. I still prefer analyzing what we already have over making predictions about what could be! So I don't read a ton of theory stuff. I prefer meta.

I have no idea what this theory actual entails which means I might not even answer your question, really 💀but...

If there were to be another court, that feels like a completely new story line. We already have a ton of stuff going on in this world? (thanks @evalinashryver @xnightwolfx @kat-renae and @hellacioushag for helping me remember these)

The fallout from Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie doing the Blood Rite which could reignite the Illyrian uprising that was just swept under the rug.

We have Vassa's curse

Jurian and Vassa?

Koschei going after the trove for what goal?

There are three mortal queens still, with unclear motives

Speaking of, there is a fourth Dread Trove item

We have the Valkyries and Illyrians potentially teaming up (so we'll see more of Nesta and Gwyn, likely)

We have Lucien and his Daddy Helion reveal

Eris trying to off Daddy Beron to become High Lord of Autumn

Speaking of daddies, who is Gwyn's?

We have the elucien mating bond that has to be dealt with

Tamlin still beasting it (which does matter, the Spring Court is currently vulnerable)

Whatever Mor was seeing in the woods at her house, plus whatever she is up to when she goes to Vallahan

Beron & Co. getting access to Velaris

Azriel and his whatever the hell feelings with Mor

Az's mom? Mommy issues?

Azriel's Broadway debut

Mor coming out for really real!

What are Elain's powers?

Is Elain sus? What is she sneaking off for?

Az and Lucien and Elain having Healing and Growth

It just seems like a neat theory that doesn't really need to happen? It's not like we are starved for plot lines or questions about the characters. There are seven courts because seven is an important number (thanks bookclub for reminding me of that).

I'm assuming that the Dusk Court would take the place of the Middle? If we look at the map, that's weird placement. The order from south to north is 1) the Middle, 2) Dawn 3) Day 4) Night. This is probably a silly detail no one else cares about except for @rayonfrozenwings but the lack of symmetry is weird? Dusk should be in between Day and Night???

I don't mind the idea and aesthetics of another court! But yeah, I'm not sure what would tie one sister to it over another, let alone when it would happen in the first place, given how many unresolved plot threads we have right now. And I really, really don't see how it could be tied to any of the ships - e*riel because like you said Az would be a shitty High Lord, nessian because they already have the House of Wind and a good friend group in the Night Court, or elucien because Lucien is already heir of Day.

#acotar #dusk court #acosf

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one-boring-person · 4 years ago

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Only Traitors Consort With The Damned. (Part Eleven)

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: gun violence, death, blood, injury

Context: Someone helps (Y/n) out of a sticky situation.

A/N: There is next to no interaction between the reader and the boys in this part, so I apologise, but at least we've got a new character. I hope you all enjoy this!😊💛

Masterlist

The gunshot rings clearly around the parking lot, the sound resonating in the walls, most likely carrying a long way. A cry of pain mingles with it, followed swiftly by a sharp intake of air that chokes off into a gargle as blood fills a wind pipe, a body falling to the floor.

My heart pounds in my ears, breathing coming heavily and unevenly as I open my eyes, my head snapping upright again, confusion rife in my mind. Instantly, I locate the body a few metres from us, blood spilling from a wound in the neck pooling around the limp figure, black-clad SRS Hunters gathering around them to see if there is any chance of revival. In this brief confusion, another gunshot tears the air, a body falling accordingly with a scream of pain, the others becoming more and more disorientated as they begin aiming their weapons around the area, aims unsure as they struggle to locate their targets. Elijah steps away from me to join them, handgun held up at eye level to improve his chances, though his grip is unsteady, clearly shaken.

Suddenly, the gun used to shoot the first two is switched into its automatic mode, bullets pelting the ground around us in a punishing efficiency, hitting more and more of the Hunters, screams soon filling the air as they collapse to their knees, the reek of blood starting to become horribly obvious in the air, the sound most likely drawing unwanted attention to the area. Panicked and confused, I can only watch as my former comrades are shot to pieces with a brutal accuracy, my eyes wide at the sight of them all writhing in agony, my face splattered with their blood, muscles frozen in place as I await the same fate, knowing that I can't move anyway, my knee completely shot out.

To the side, the vampires are forcing themselves to their feet, Dwayne and Paul helping Marko to his feet, shooting me one last look between them before they clear off, running for safety, as they should be. Vaguely, I clock that that will likely be the last time I see them, my mind too preoccupied with the sight of a huge figure emerging from a darkened alley, a smoking assault rifle held in one hand, a shotgun in the other, to care too much about that, terror flooding me.

Pushing myself forwards, I go to stand up, only to yelp in pain as my knee gives out, making me fall onto my face, my hands only just catching me, preventing me from cracking my already bruised head on the pavement, my eyes fixed on the rapidly approaching silhouette, my movements erratic and uncoordinated in my attempts to get away. Breathing heavily, I start to scramble upright, trying to pull myself back and away from the threat, my fingers becoming grazed and shredded from the rough surface beneath them, one of my hands reaching for a gun that has fallen nearby. Stretching out for it, I use all of the strength I can to drag myself closer to it, only to stop when I feel a pair of large hands on my waist flipping me over, grey eyes swiftly finding mine. At the sight of him, I let out a breath, finally taking in his appearance as I relax into his grip.

"Nico!" I gasp out in relief, smiling breathlessly up at the brunette werewolf towering over me.

"(Y/n)." He greets in response, grinning down at me in his usual, crooked way, the muscular man sitting back on his heels. In the harsh light from one streetlamp, his chiselled jaw and prominent brow are emphasised, his grey eyes bright and lively, bulging muscles flexing under his coat as he bends down and picks me up, cradling me bridal-style against his firm chest, the weapons slung over his shoulders as I wrap an arm around his neck. Standing back upright again, the German werewolf carries me away from the wreckage he has created, deftly kicking someone as they make a grab for their gun, sending them flying back from the sheer force of it.

"I didn't think you would actually come." I say to him as we walk, trying to fight off the pain in my body as he slips into the shadows of an alley.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He exclaims, pulling a face of mock offence, "When have I ever left you to fend for yourself?"

"That's not what I meant, Nico, and you know it. I meant that I'm surprised that you came to a town of vampires." I grin, slapping his chest playfully, still a little disorientated after the previous shootout.

"If you can trust them, then I can tolerate them." He shrugs, tightening his grip around me, "I couldn't just let you get killed, and from what I can see, my timing was perfect."

"You've always been one for theatrics." I roll my eyes mockingly.

"I have not! I just know how to make an entrance." He argues back, turning a corner to where a clearly stolen car is waiting, the windows smashed in and the paint scratched and dented.

"That you do." I muse, smiling up at him, glad that my old friend came to my aid.

Nico and I first met when I was on a hunt when I had just graduated into the SRS, a good few years ago now, when I was just sixteen. I was working as an apprentice of sorts, a Cadet as they called it, for one of the crueler sergeants that trained me, and we'd been sent to deal with a coven of necromancers who dealt in human sacrifice. Being the youngest, I wasn't allowed to do much, only wait outside the coven headquarters as the older Hunters went in to deal with the problem, leaving me defenceless and helpless, though I had no idea I was in danger until a knife lodged itself in my lower back, narrowly missing my spinal chord. A necromancer attacked me, nearly killing me until they were interrupted by the sudden onslaught of a snarling wolf the size of a large horse, it's amber eyes blazing in the night as it tore the necromancer to shreds. I remember looking away as their screams died out, only opening my eyes again when I felt a hand on my shoulder, at which point I came face-to-face with a hansome, tall, hugely muscular boy my own age, his grey eyes concerned for me as he offered me his help, knowing that I was injured. At first, I was sceptical, not quite trusting the boy towering over me, every instinct in my body telling me that a werewolf is not the kind of company to keep, but eventually I agreed, but only on the condition that he got dressed again, seeing as he was naked (a person's clothes are destroyed when they transform).

The next time I saw him, he was facing down with a pack of cryptids up on the Canadian border, the werewolf bleeding and injured as he tried to find a way out of the situation. As I was on my first solo hunt, I was able to help, shooting the cryptids as their backs were turned and offering him first aid back at my camp. Finding ourselves in good company with each other, we quickly became friends, often meeting up and helping each other out when necessary, pur friendship remaining a secret for both our sakes, knowing that a revelation of our knowledge of each other could be detrimental to either. As a lone wolf, he often states that he's targeted as an enemy, most werewolves choosing to remain in packs, but I've never met someone who can actually best him. I quickly learnt, however, that his choice of lifestyle was not one he chose: he was born a werewolf in South Germany, on the border between Bavaria and Austria, in the Alps, but was cast out at a young age due to his unnatural body structure and overwhelming strength. He was often on the run, and soon found his way to the west, where he has stayed ever since.

His friendship and trust is the reason I sent him a call for help in the first place.

"What're you thinking about?" The werewolf's voice cuts through my reverie, his eyes boring into me as he carefully starts manouvering me into the car.

"Oh, nothing." I respond, sitting back into my seat as I wait for him to climb into the drivers seat, feeling like I'm ready to pass out.

"You sure?" Nico teases, smirking as he awkwardly folds himself into the seat, starting the car and driving off, heading out of town.

"Very." I yawn, still smiling.

"I'd say you should get some sleep, but I'm not sure how good that will be for you, given that you have been shot." He worries, looking over at me as he pulls onto a deserted street.

"I could really use some, actually. I'm dead on my feet." I admit, stifling another yawn, "I might just risk it."

He hums, whether in disapproval or not is unclear, but says nothing, clearly thinking, for a few seconds.

"I guess I can probably get that sorted whilst you're asleep, but it might be difficult. You wanna risk that?" He offers, turning down another winding, darkened road.

"I think I'll take you up on the offer. Are we leaving town?"

"Yeah, it's for the best."

"Can we stop somewhere first? I need to collect my things."

"Sure, where?"

I look over at him, struggling to keep my eyes open.

"You know where Hudson's Bluff is, overlooking the point?"

Part Twelve

#the lost boys #joel schumacher #vampire #david(thelostboys)#kiefer sutherland #paul(the lost boys)#dwayne(the lost boys)#santa carla #marko(the lost boys)#star(the lost boys)

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bookio · 4 years ago

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The Pisces (2018) by Melissa Broder

Obsessed over her ex-boyfriend, Lucy breaks his nose when finding out he met someone new. Given two ultimatum, to either go to legal court for the nose or sign up for serval months of women's therapy for her "Love Addiction", Lucy picks the latter. Her sister offers her to stay at her beach house in exchange for Lucy babysitting the sister's dog.

Between group therapy sessions, Lucy attend serval awful dates with meaningless, boring sex. She feels lost.

During late night beach walks, she sometimes meets a beautiful man out swimming. He's cute and charming, and she is able to be open with him in a way she hadn't before. He however is always in the water, because of his heavy wetsuit, he says. His name is Theo.

After many meetings and finally kissing, the mysterious man finally shows her the truth. He is actually a merman! Lucy who feel very connected to him wants to try make this work though.

Their relationship is sexy and cute and sexy and romantic and sexy. Just wow, i'm in awe. Who could have thought, a merman. With help of a wheelbarrow, they are able to snuggle up in the beach house. But Theo is afraid of dogs and the sister's dog hates fish, and try attack on sight. This leads to Lucy constantly giving the dog sleeping pills to be able to have sex with Theo.

During this time, the ex have been sending lots of desperate "I miss youu" to Lucy, and with the therapy at it's ends meet, she tells Theo she might go home soon to never return again.

Theo gets heartbroken and disappears at sea for serval days. While Lucy awaits him, she keep drugging the dog and even finds out that the ex-boyfriend doesn't want her back. His new girlfriend is pregnant and he is just showing cold feet, wtf.

When sister comes home, the dog has died of an overdose. It's unclear if she told her the reason why, but i doubt it because Lucy keep saying she never had anyone over, even though we know she did.

The merman comes back, and Lucy says she chooses him over everything. Theo, now paler than before and eyes grown dark says they can be together if she joins him in the waterworld. Lucy agrees, and confusingly packs a bag and dreams of her new life as a mermaid. BUT when they prepare to go into the water together, Theo ties a rope around her wrist.

He says it's because human bodies will reflexively struggle for survival and try to reach the surface again. Confused, Lucy realize she will not turn into a mermaid but that Theo is a siren, and need blood/souls to survive or something. She asks how many he got so far, which he honestly says 17 bodies.

Realizing she is not special, Lucy angrily breaks up and they part ways for good. Her final reflections of reconnecting with her sister and herself as a single woman is her main priority from now on.

I'm so surprised by this book, it's really good?! Finished those 298 pages in just 6 early hours. 5/5 stars

- - - - -

A Girl Called Owl (2017) by Amy Wilson

I'm a big fan of Frozen, that's why I picked up this book based on the cover, thinking it would be some sort of knockoff Elsa story. But to my surprise it's more like a... DreamWorks Jack Frost fanfiction?

Owl is a normal high school girl, but one day she realize she has ice powers! Her mother confesses that she entered the magic realm with a secret spell (she randomly found a magic book one day) when she was teenager and spent one single day with Jack Frost. Oh boy.

I know that the Jack Frost character is old as time, but the way he's described is suspiciously similar to the animated character from 2012. At the beginning of chapter 14, Owl even googles his name to find out that wow, there's a movie about him being "a guardian". HMMM.

Owl goes looking for Jack and they meet through her mother's old spellbook. He doesn't believe she's his daughter because he hasn't planned for one or something. They dance in the snow, he is handsome. His best friend North Wind shows up, he's also handsome for some reason. Owl is happy to have a dad again.

Owl tells Jack that she's "half fairy, half winter spirit", but fairies hasn't been established in this book (yet) so i can't figure out if she's lying or if it's a script error? He doesn't even react on it.

Meanwhile, in high school. A mysterious exchange student shows up. He dress in punk clothes and have a scary mohawk hairstyle. He approach her with cryptic "I know who you are". Turns out he's sent to spy on her, he's a tree nymph that can control the wind. Okay.

Owl is forced back to the magic realm because it's illegal for spirits to mate with humans (so she's not a fairy anymore?) and she's the proof a deed like that has been committed. So Jack's sent to some secluded place and she is to try out his job. Jack still denies that he has a daughter.

She fails miserably because she angry over Jack not accepting her, she freeze too much and almost kill people but stopped by Jack himself. He then recalls Owl mother, "oh i thought the woman who visited me was just a dream of my imagination" (p.210). What.

They have a meeting with Mother Earth and they figure out that punk guy's boss, "the count of Autumn" has been jealous of Jack's winter. So he planted a magic spellbook infront of a pretty human to cause problems for him.

Mother Earth clears the arguments and Jack promises to visit his daughter sometimes, but work comes first. And Owl is sent back to her mother in time for movie night.

Btw, Owl has a human best friend called Mallory, who's parents are going through a divorce which basically works as a page filler for the non-magical events. At the end, she's like "wow my best friend is half-fairy, half winter spirit" which by now has been clear not to be??

And oh, her name is Owl because her spirit animal is an owl. But Jack Frosts spirit animal is the wolf, because why not.

It's written oddly like something I would write in high school. A young girl turns out to be magical and the exchange student is also special and every guy we encounter are either old or handsome. I'm obviously not the target audience but it was a nice little read anyway. Made me nostalgic because my young self stories basically all looked kind of like this haha! 3/5 stars

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forkanna · 7 years ago

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NOTES: Really, I am sorry about the long delay. Mostly a lot of personal business that doesn't matter in the slightest, haha, but I've also just been really distracted by leisure pursuits and other projects. I promise I haven't forgotten this fic and it will get posted.

It would take another full day of circuitous travel before they made it back to Wicca Falls. First, as per usual, they plotted to head East to confuse their trail, then this time South and West over Quadling Country until they could skirt the Outer Vinkus northward to their home. Though Fiyero's offer of lodging at an abandoned castle had been tempting, they both agreed that the safety of their little cave was what they needed that night.

However, they only made it as far as the Thousand Year Grasslands when the weather began to turn. At first, it only seemed to be a stronger headwind, but they were still leagues away from Neverdale when they were forced to land amongst the tall fields. As ungainly as their landing might have been, they were thankful it had not been any rougher or they might not have lived to tell the tale.

"Great Oz, what is this?" Glinda yelped as their cloaks were whipped around them.

"A storm — and a twigging good one!" Having to hold down her hat and broom, Elphaba felt herself being buffeted around, and in the open grassland there was nothing behind which they could take shelter. "Glinda! Don't let go of me!"

Lying as flat as they could, they were able to keep from being knocked down or otherwise inconvenienced. The broom was the worst of it; so much wind seemed to encourage it to take flight, and there were times both witches had to leap atop it to keep from losing it altogether. On one such occasion, Elphaba just scarcely managed to snatch her hat before it was carried off into the wild blue yonder.

"It's just a hat!" Glinda called out over the gale forces. "We could get you another one!"

"You gave this to me!" she cried as she stuffed it into her cloak, no longer trusting it to stay atop her head. "I could never let it be taken from me in such a… an unworthy fashion!"

Glinda had no answer to that. She felt one in her heart, thought of one, but the words sounded so silly that she couldn't quite force them out.

Once the worst of the winds had finally died down, they cautiously began to stand. Then the air stilled completely. It was so sudden that Glinda found herself half-crouched and blinking, completely at a loss for what she should do next.

"That was horrible," she finally breathed. "Just… just whipped up out of nowhere, and we almost crashed!"

Elphaba took her rumpled black hat out of her robes and plopped it on her head. Glinda often wondered if she had a spell on it that helped keep it secure during their usual flights. "No… not 'horrible' — Morrible. I don't know why, and I don't know how, but she's to blame for this wind."

Her companion clutched at her arm, and Elphaba embraced her back to afford her some comfort. "She knew we were flying. Maybe she thought we'd slam into the Kells!"

"Oh, Lurline knows what she thought! That devil woman, that, that… blowhard!"

"She did at that," Glinda quipped. Elphaba only glared. "Sorry. My mouth gets ahead of me when I'm scared."

At that, Elphaba ran a hand over her hair, sighing. "I'm sorry. This whole situation is so infuriating to me that sometimes I forget that you must have your own feelings about it. But we'll-"

When she suddenly cut off, looking upward, Glinda's eyes followed to see a flock of crows swirling into the sky. Whether they were crows or Crows was unclear. It was such a stark omen, like a black cloud rising from the far East, that she found herself holding her breath, as if waiting for the consequences to crash down on the pair of them immediately.

"I'm… I'm afraid again."

"What?"

"Nessa," Elphaba breathed. "I'm sorry, I know I've said this before, and things turned out so badly… but…"

She dropped her eyes, both frustrated and full of hot shame. But Glinda couldn't hold it against her. She didn't even wish to try. One hand passed up and down her friend's back as she leaned up to press a kiss into her cheek.

"Let's go check on Nessie. I know you won't be able to sleep if we don't."

"Sometimes, I think you know me a little too well." They both shared a bleak smile before mounting the broom and taking off at top speed.

~ o ~

As it happened, there was something to distract them from making it to Colwen Grounds. A very prominent, very strange something.

By the side of the Yellow Brick Road, very near Nest Hardings and the seat of the Munchkinland government, was an odd little house. This wasn't all that strange to Glinda on its own; why shouldn't someone live just to the side of such a well-travelled route? Would be easy enough for their friends and family to find them. However, she could tell by the look on Elphaba's face that this was a house that did not belong.

Upon getting closer, it was easy to see why. The house seemed to be a single large room, and was drably painted a greyish colour. It was the single most unimpressive building Glinda had ever seen in all her years — including some of the Quadling shacks. No polka dots on the doors, no stripes on the eaves… not even a little gargoyle by the chimney. Just plain, grey wood, slapped together into an ugly dwelling, which only looked yet uglier for having just appeared there. The state of disrepair seemed to suggest it had been dropped, but that was impossible… wasn't it?

"I don't know what to make of it," Elphaba breathed as they descended. "How could a house not be there a couple of days ago, and suddenly be here now?"

"Maybe it was already there, and it was just so boring nobody ever noticed," Glinda reasoned. "I mean, it's a teensy grey hut. Who cares?"

Apparently, that was not a popular opinion, as a crowd had already formed. Several members of Nessa's Pike Guild had come to regard it warily, polearms at the ready in case some beast or witch came charging out to have their heads. Many other citizens were also beginning to approach in a slow trickle from the city proper, slowing yet more the closer they got.

"We probably don't have much time, Elphie. What should we do? Stop here, or go on ahead to check on Nessa?"

"She's already here."

The nature of the scene before them began to seem different now that they could see Nessarose flanked by her guards, staring down the house as if it were already alive and ready to gobble them up. It would have been comical if the witches weren't equally frightened.

"Elphaba!" Nessa screamed the moment they came into view. "What have you done?!"

The green woman started. "What have I done? Come to see if you were alright, that's what I've done, and no more! What's happened?!"

Though the polearms raised to pierce them when they drew close, Nessa's raised hand forestalled them. They did not draw back, but remained at the ready, waiting for her signal. Unlike before, she was now dressed to the nines, black-and-white striped socks drawing attention downward to her glimmering shoes. Though her violet cape and silvery dress were no less impressive.

"She cleans up nice," Glinda muttered out of the side of her mouth. Elphaba only elbowed her as they drew within easy speaking distance.

"Elphaba, I need you to swear to me," she said in a tight voice, chest heaving with the force of her every breath. "You are the only powerful witch I know of in this entire kingdom. I know you did this, I know it! But… if you swear on our mother's grave that you did not, I may consider that something else happened."

"I swear on both Mother and Father's graves," she told her solemnly, handing the broom to Glinda so she could stride forward and take her sister's hands. But Nessa drew them away. Elphaba sighed and said, "Nessa… I'm sorry. I'm sorry about Father and about Boq, but I did not do those things myself. The latter was an accident — I was trying to help!"

"And what about Father? You drove him to an early grave! How could you betray Oz this way? I don't care about your reasons, about Animals or- or whatever! You turned your back on Munchkinland, and the Wizard!"

Her voice was hard as she hissed, "He gave me no choice. I tried to meet with him, to smooth things over and give him a second chance, and… and he has only proven to me that he is not fit to lead the Land of Oz. Too weak to stand up for what's right, too…" She shook her head. "I don't know what we should do, but I have to do something! If I just stood by and let him use the Animals' freedom to distract us from the real problems in his people's lives, then I wouldn't be able to live with myself!"

The more Elphaba went on, the more uncertain Nessarose seemed to be. But then she waved a hand to the side. "Enough! I… I don't believe you. There's no proof of any of what you say, and until there is, it's just… just noise!"

Elphaba wound up to speak again, clearly incensed, but Glinda cut across her, "But we really didn't cause that storm! In fact, it almost knocked us out of the sky, clear on the other side of Oz! Do… did you see anything? If it happened here, what did you see? Anything at all!"

"Nothing. Just the cyclone coming from the South. I… well, I've never seen anything like it! And there seemed to be something in the eye, but no one could tell what it was until it fell on…"

Something was too silent in the way Nessa cut herself off. Her lovely eyes were wide and fearful as she glanced between the two others, as if she knew to continue would be to bring doom upon herself.

"On what?" Elphaba whispered. "Or who?"

"Whom," Glinda corrected. Both Nessa and Elphaba slapped one of her arms apiece, and she stepped back, rubbing them with a pout on her lips.

"Come on, Nessa. Tell us."

After more hesitation, she glanced over at the house, then back at them again. "Do you… remember that boy, Fiyero? The one who was at the Ozdust Ballroom wi-"

Neither of them let her finish. Both witches raced toward the drab, dilapidated house with all the speed they could summon, cloaks billowing out behind them.

"Can you see anything?!" Glinda shouted a few minutes later when they had circuited the house.

"Only from here!" Elphaba announced from the front. Glinda circled around to join her, where they both crouched down. "Can you see? There, through this gap!"

"No! Move over!" Given the new perspective, Glinda squinted through the crack, raising the small wand she had once been given by Morrible and lighting the tip with one of the paltry few enchantments she had memorised. "Oh, look there, around the center! I see something!"

Sitting back a few seconds later, they exchanged a worried glance. The house was not flush with the ground everywhere, but there was little chance he had come through the ordeal unscathed. Most likely, he was already dead and cold.

"We can't be too late," Elphaba breathed, beginning to tremble. "I… I refuse to believe it!"

Laying a hand on her arm, even as her own eyes streamed, she whispered, "I… I don't want to turn him into Biq, but… but if there's anything we could do… shouldn't we try?"

They should. And they would.

"What are you doing?" Nessa demanded as they knelt a few paces away from the front of the structure, withdrawing the Grimmerie and leafing through it. "Not this again! You can't be serious!"

"You have no idea how serious," Elphaba snapped. "If there's even the slightest chance…"

"But it's madness! You know what happened to my Boq, so what- how could you ever consider doing such an awful thing to anyone else?!"

As Elphaba continued to flip pages, Glinda screamed up at her, "I love him! So if you don't mind, you can shut your twigging mouth, you… you dictatorly traitor!"

"This one!" Elphaba cried out, slapping her hand between the pages. Glinda leaned over her, a dubious expression in place. "What? What's the matter?"

"Isn't that the one you tried to use to make our straw-stuffed mattress softer?"

"No! No, I don't think so…" She peered down at the page, then glared up at Glinda. "This isn't the time to second-guess me! It's the best spell I have!"

"Then I'll cast another one," Glinda said as she leafed through the back of the book, ignoring the outraged cry from her companion. "If we both concentrate, and don't get distracted by the other person's spell, then it should be fine! We've both cast spells at once before!"

By this time, Nessa was flapping around near their shoulders, whispering, "Are you sure any of this is wise? Maybe we should just… let him be…" Hearing how that sounded, she added, "Because of what we did to Boq. I know, I've seen how important he was to both of you, so… do you really want to wish the same fate on him?"

Glinda felt a pinprick of curiosity at that line. They both loved Fiyero. She had suspected, given a few of the glances they exchanged, turns their conversations took over the years — but had told herself it was ridiculous. Fiyero had never expressed any true interest in Elphaba, other than his farewell the day they left for the Emerald City. And anytime she lamented losing him, being apart from him, Elphaba had said nothing. Only let her prattle onward like a child.

What would have happened if they did not have to run from the Wizard's armies? Would they have fought over Fiyero? Lost their friendship because they both desired him? She couldn't imagine it now. Yes, it was possible, but she simply did not think she had the stomach to fight with Elphaba about something that seemed so… petty.

And she couldn't focus on that. Stopping her thoughts in their tracks as she landed upon a page, she whispered, "I have mine; it's a protection spell, but I think if I modify it… say an 'ah' instead of an 'ey'?"

"Yes, we'll have to do what we can. There's no time." Holding the middle sheaf of pages exactly vertical, they both tilted their heads so they could read the script of their respective spells. "Nessa, do you mind?"

"Do I mind what? Oh." Stepping between them on her still-unsteady legs, Nessa grasped the middle pages, trying to hold her fingers out of the way of any words. "This is insane…"

"Good. Thank you." Clearing her throat, Elphaba began to chant, "Eleka nahmen nahmen, atum atum, eleka nahmen…"

But Glinda had to block that out, and fast. If she let herself get rattled or distracted by the other incantation, it would only muddle her own, so she set to work immediately, speaking the words and swirling her hands to help pull in the mystical energies of spellwork. Line after line flew from her lips as she read aloud, until she was completely lost to time.

Finally, she let her spell loose. An instant before, she had more sensed than actually saw Elphaba's hands fly forward to do the same; the light was so subtle that she was sure most non-witch residents of Oz would see nothing at all — only the results, which would not be visible due to flying under the house.

That was the intention.

Something obstructed Glinda's spell from reaching Fiyero where he lay. Two somethings: dusty brown shoes, adorned with a buckle but otherwise very plain. Her eyes screwed up, puzzled as she stared at the twinkling light of her magic befalling them. What were those doing in the middle of the road?

Then she realised the shoes had not been abandoned. So narrow had her focus been on casting her spell that she hadn't even looked further upward until the magic began to fade, settling into its new home. Up the dingy white socks, the rolled-up cuffs of blue material that seemed to be pants — except it stretched up over a middle and a chest, even hooking over two shoulders by way of straps. Only by the time she saw rosy cheeks, a gaping mouth, and brown braids did Glinda finally realise…

This was another person. Quite a tall person for the average Munchkin, and dressed in such strange garments! But there the stranger stood, all the same, open-mouthed and completely shocked by the sight of witches doing their witchly business.

"What…" Glinda cleared her throat, fingers finally beginning to curl away from the Grimmerie. "Who- I mean, where did you come from?"

Nessa dropped the pages as she drew back, as surprised as her former classmate. Elphaba, however, had scarcely taken her eyes off the eaves underneath the house; she was willing Fiyero to present himself, for anything to take place. Inwardly, so was Glinda, but she was also worried about what she might have done to an innocent bystander with her spell.

"G-Goodness me!" the person squeaked — a woman, if the voice were any indication. She hadn't been sure, what with how she looked. "Y-you talk! You queer little folk can talk!"

"Of course we can!" Nessa burst out, more startled into responding than meaning to have said anything. "Y-you… how did you do that?"

Still heavily distracted by her surroundings, the strange girl breathed, "Do what?"

"Make a house fly! I've… not even our great and terrible Wizard can do something like that!"

"A housefly? I- w-well, you don't 'make' houseflies, th-they come on their own! Of course, Uncle Henry's always sayin' that I don't help any, on account of I leave the butter dish out, a-and then they come 'round because they can't resist Aunt Em's butter, s-so… maybe I do make houseflies, after all, and if that's gonna be a problem, then I'm awful sorry! But the butter dish is closed up right now, so they shouldn't come, should they?"

No one responded. Not a single Munchkinlander did more than cough.

"Do… you mean to say that you can lift an entire building… with only the use of a butter dish?" Glinda finally asked dubiously, trying not to sound too disbelieving.

"What?!" she squeaked, a hand flying to her bowlike mouth. "Oh, no, no, no! I can't lift a whole house! Goodness, I'm only a little thing, aren't I? Ain't heard of anyone liftin' anything like a house all on their lonesome! Not without a pulley! A-and I haven't got a pulley! There's one in the barn, but the barn is…" Her hand swept to one side, but a second later it fell as she gaped at the rolling fields of blue maize, the swaying of the Fighting Trees. "Is… not here. Or I'm not there. Am I? M-maybe I'm not even in Kansas anymore…"

Nessa reached down to help Glinda up, and she gratefully took the hand. Privately, she worried about unbalancing the new-to-walking woman, but things turned out alright. Then she straightened her cloak and asked, "Dear thing, what's your name?"

"My name? Dorothy. Dorothy Gale, if you please." She reached out to the sides as if to curtsy, then seemed to start when she grasped only at the sides of pantlegs. Dipping her head shamefacedly, she announced, "I… I'm so underdressed, I… you all look so lovely, and I'd b-been out working with Uncle Henry before the storm! What a state to be in when I meet new people!"

"A pleasure to meet you," Glinda said, curtsying and managing it just fine. "My name is Glinda Upland, of the Upperuplands. This is Nessarose Thropp, the Eminent."

"How do you do?" Nessa greeted her with a wooden bow, as if not quite sure she ought to be bowing. Really, everyone was shocked; it was only Glinda's breeding that allowed her innate sense of decorum to override her complete surprise.

"I do well! Oh, it's nice to meet you both!" For the first time, the girl chanced a hesitant smile as she turned to where Elphaba still crouched over the book. "And… and who might you be?"

After a moment, Elphaba glanced up at her. Her expression was slacken, empty, and Glinda felt her heart seize to see her that way. "It didn't work."

"What?"

"The spell. It didn't work, he… he isn't…" Then everything about her changed. Boiling to her feet, she bellowed directly at the girl, "What have you DONE?!"

Dorothy shrank back from the shout, all of her budding good humour replaced with fright. "Done? Wh-why, I haven't done anything at all, I p-promise!"

"This is your house, isn't it?" No answer. She took a step forward, hands curling into fists as she bore down on the girl who was just scarcely shorter than herself. "Answer me, you fool!"

"Y-yes! It's my home, I- what is it, what's wrong?"

"You MURDERER!"

Elphaba's hands had just barely begun to swirl, to conjure a spell of some sort, when Glinda dashed forward and tugged the arms down. "Elphie, stop!"

"NO! Let me go, let me go this instant! She can't be allowed to get away with this, I won't-"

"I don't understand!" Dorothy was wailing, backpedaling toward her house and tripping over a crack in the bricks, so that she sat down hard in the grass between road and house. "AH! What- oww!"

At the same moment, a small black creature came pelting out of the house, as well. It yipped and barked at Elphaba, and Glinda didn't quite know what to make of it. It seemed like some sort of cross between a dog and a cat, but it was unlike any creature she had ever seen.

"She'll be shredded to pieces," Elphaba was growling, straining against Glinda's grip. Nessa merely stood nearby, indecisive but eyes wild at the scene playing out. "Crucified and whipped until — no, that isn't fitting at all. I'll just have to drop this godforsaken house on her!"

Gritting her teeth, Glinda tried to turn her around to face her, but it was slow going, and the barking from the odd little thing was distracting. Once she managed it, through a lot of grunting and straining, she snapped, "FABALA!" That got her focus, alright. "You can't do this to her! You are not a perpetrator of murderosity, and I won't let you act like you are!"

"It was Fiyero!" she snapped directly into her face. Glinda couldn't suppress a wince. "How can you not be upset? Don't you care? I thought you loved him!"

"I did!" Tears were on her cheeks already, and she hadn't the slightest clue when they got there. "And I do! But… but if he has gone… oh, Elphie, what's it going to change to take revenge on this poor young one?"

The words began to sink in. She knew they did; the way Elphaba's eyes turned down and to one side showed her as much. Given more opportunity, she could have talked some sense into her companion.

However, they never got a chance to sink in any further. At that moment, there came a great BOOM! that filled the area, startling the Pike Guild and all the Munchkinlanders further back.

"AHHH!" Dorothy screamed out, covering her head with both arms and pressing herself back against the steps as the small dog-cat ran to her, nosing at her arms.

Rising up from the billowing smoke in the middle of the road was a sight that sent chills down Glinda's spine. High, forbidding white hair, pinched, fishlike pale features, and a billowing dress that disguised an equally-billowing figure.

"You," Glinda breathed, a hand going to her mouth.

"How dare you attack this poor girl!" she announced, raising an arm to level a crooked finger and a pointed, painted nail at the two witches. "Haven't you evil witches caused enough harm to Oz?!"

"Here's someone I can drop a house on," Elphaba growled, eyes narrowing to slits. "Madame Morrible… I might have known. I might have known it was you!"

But the moment she took a step toward the vile press secretary, she snapped, "Guards!" And the guards fell into line between them. The armoured and polearm-wielding Munchkins, looking quite uncomfortable but resolute, aimed the weapons in their direction.

"Wait," Nessa said in disbelief, taking a step out from behind her sister. "What are you doing? I haven't given an order — and I order you to stand down!" Nothing happened. "I demand you step aside until I call upon you!"

"They aren't yours to push around anymore," Morrible chuckled darkly, with a wolfish look that only they three would ever see. Dorothy was cowering by the house, the guards facing the wrong way, and all the citizens of Nest Hardings too far away to see anything clearly. "Several months ago, I learned of the coup they were planning against the Wicked Witch of the East, and decided to bide my time. Why dirty my own hands when it's not strictly necessary?"

"Wicked… Witch of the- who is…" But it began to dawn on the poor paraplegic. Her eyes swept to Elphaba, then back to her traitorous troops, none of whom met her glance with even a hint of sympathy. She breathed, aghast, "Me? You think me a witch?"

All Morrible said in response to that was, "Blood will out." Then to Elphaba, she snapped, "I suggest you leave this place, before I am forced to attack you forthwithly! The Wizard is still most displeased you could not see his generosity for what it was, and you've caused enough trouble for too long!"

"Not half as much trouble as I-" But the tugging at Elphaba's arm told her Glinda did not agree, so she turned to hiss, "What?!"

"Let's go. They're all stacked against us, we… we can't stay." Her longing eyes flicked to the house again, but she only sighed before saying, "Please, Elphie? Let's just… fall back and figure out what to do without all these stabby things pointed at us!"

The green nostrils flared. Then she hissed, "No good deed goes unpunished. I spared the brat, and all of Munchkinland is still against me, are they?"

"No! They just… don't know what to believe right now! Please don't-"

"FINE." Picking up their broom, she mounted it immediately and glared across at their adversary, who looked like a cat with a mouthful of bird feathers. "This is not the last of me, you tyrant! May you and all who serve you meet the ghastliest of ends!"

"That's my line," Glinda hissed. "I'm the Ghastly one!"

As she swung on behind Elphaba, Morrible called out, "So be it! Retreat like the cowards you are!"

Glinda could tell this was as important to Morrible as the confrontation itself: building herself up as their saviour in the eyes of the Munchkins, even though she had scarcely done a thing other than exist. It was all showmanship. She and the Wizard really were a match made somewhere unpleasant. Still, she couldn't spare her the brainpower. Turning to Nessa, she asked, "Are you coming?"

"NO! What makes you think I'd ever-" The points of the spears raised toward her when she tried to take a step toward the Pike Guild, and she turned back to the two of them, face paling and eyes downcast. "Well… as long as you're offering…"

"Mark my words!" Morrible was calling out at their backs as the three so-called witches took off into the Western sky, leaving behind a potential new friend, and the remains of an old one. "You will come to rue the day you ever crossed wands with a real witch, you… you pretenders! You charlatanous charlatans! Stay gone, if you know what's good for you!"

To Be Continued…

#The Coven of Oz #wicked fanfiction #the wicked years #the wizard of oz #forkanna writes #forkanna the writer

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