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femslashficlets2020-06-04 09:06 pm
ilthit) wrote in femslashficlets2020-06-04 09:06 pm
Entry tags:
[Tarot] The Library at Midnight, October 1896 (Original)
Title: The Library at Midnight, October 1896
Fandom: Original
Pairing: Esserve of the Holly and Hawthorne/Charlotte Montrouge
Rating: teen
Prompt: Wheel of Fortune
Word Count: 1,000
Summary: Charlotte should know better than to bargain with monsters.
Notes: Also written forelasticella 's Summer Spinoff femslash fest and the prompt "witch/monster - blood price". You could call this pre-slash for the belligerent sexual tension. Crossposted on rainbowfic .
She’d done it. She’d summoned the monster.
Charlotte lowered her hands, each still clutching a wand—one wooden, carved with the Pictish letters her mentor had taught her, the other a polished staff of quartz she had discovered in Uthcaire Manor’s attic among her scandalous great-grandfather’s collection of occult items. They both felt warm under her hand, crackling with that ice-electricity-fire of magic.
“There you are,” she said, lifting her nose up in the air, as if there had never been any doubt of the efficacy of the ritual. Charlotte Montrouge had been polished in the finest of Swiss finishing schools, and even after the trying five years she had had since, she knew her nose could be devastating. “It has been a while, hasn’t it, Essie?”
Within the interlocking pentagrams and hexagrams drawn in charred chalk on the library floor stood a tall woman-shaped creature. Charlotte would recognize her anywhere, after what had happened in Cairo. She could appear beautiful, if she wished; tonight, she had chosen to wear thick, smooth white fur, with fangs that pressed against her lower lip, and eyes that were more like wolf-eyes than anything human. Still she wore that impeccably embroidered waistcoat in the latest gentlemen’s fashion; still there were those shapely legs encased in riding trousers and tall leather boots. Claws protruded from the tips of her curved, knobby fingers.
The monster opened her lips, something between a smile and a snarl, and then laughed. “My dear, sweet little thing. After all those nasty things you said to me last time, I had to come and see if you were ready to apologize.”
“I am not,” Charlotte snapped. She had forgotten how much the creature aggravated her. “Why should I? Your kind are a blight and a menace, and I will not rest until all the doors between your world and ours are closed.”
“And yet you come knocking on those self-same doors.” Esserve stepped lazily over the chalk line. Charlotte’s fingers tightened on her wands. She may be a mortal woman, and this one of the ancient monsters of that shadowy world just beyond reality, but the blood of magicians ran through her veins on both sides of the family, and she would not be intimidated by the likes of her. Close-up, she could see the tips of a row of horns among Esserve’s luxurious mane, like a crown embedded in her skull.
Her voice was like honey poured over gravel. “Do you wish to bargain with me now, my pretty little witch? Whatever could have changed your mind?”
Charlotte gritted her teeth, though her heart pounded and her belly felt warm. Nothing really excited her these days, except for this. Magic. Facing the abominations that filtered into her world. Standing up to one of them and showing them she was not afraid. “To propose a temporary alliance," she said at last. "There is a gateway I particularly wish closed, for reasons of my own, and I need… help. It is not one that can be closed on my side alone. And you…” You I knew would come. If I asked. “You bargain.”
“Now she needs my help,” Esserve rumbled, and Charlotte could feel that voice right in the bottom of her belly. “Quite right. I am fond of a bargain, so long as it is a fair one. And what will you give me in return, if I close this gate for you?”
Charlotte breathed in through her nose, keeping her chin tilted up to stare the monster right into her unnatural eyes. “If you allow me to continue my life unharmed, undiminished, and work against your kind in the future, and if you do not touch my family… you may name your price.”
A sharp intake of breath, and then a slow, luxurious release. “What happened to your pride, little witch?”
Charlotte did wish she would stop calling her little. Most would rather call her tall; even so she only came up to Esserve’s shoulder. “Get on with it. Name your price.”
“I will take my prize now, if you don’t mind.” The monster raised her clawed hand and pressed it on Charlotte’s chest.
The wands lit up in Charlotte's hands. Magic razed through her. She could stick both those magical power-rods into Esserve and perhaps be rid of one more enemy... No! That gate stood far too close to the Well of Forgotten Voices. To the fount of all her family’s secrets.
When Esserve took her hand away, Charlotte’s chest stung and burned at the same time. Her foot slid back an inch, but she did not step back. “What did you do?” she gasped.
“Marked you as mine,” Esserve whispered as she withdrew towards the shadows in the corner of the library. “Unharmed. Undiminished. Free to continue your pointless little mission. But mine. Consider it a patronage and a great blessing, Charlotte Patricia Montrouge.” All that remained of the monster were her eyes, glowing golden in the dark. “I am Esserve of the Holly and Hawthorn, and I do not allow anyone to break my things. Call me when you are ready to receive your end of the bargain.”
The absence of her flooded into the room. It was as if a heavy darkness had lifted and the moonlight was allowed to trickle back in. How long had they spoken?
Charlotte put down her wands with shaking hands upon the desk and screwed the gas lamp on. The light blossomed as blue flame, then golden. She carried the lamp to the small table under the ornate Georgian mirror between bookshelves marked Classics and Lore, set it down and undid the buttons of her blouse.
Across the breadth of her chest from her collarbones down to her breastplate were swirling markings, a script even older than Pictish. Even as she watched the bloody wounds closed up, leaving neat white scars behind. Her shirt was soaked through with red.
“Hmh. Pity.” She wrinkled her nose. “That was French silk.”
Fandom: Original
Pairing: Esserve of the Holly and Hawthorne/Charlotte Montrouge
Rating: teen
Prompt: Wheel of Fortune
Word Count: 1,000
Summary: Charlotte should know better than to bargain with monsters.
Notes: Also written for
elasticella 's Summer Spinoff femslash fest and the prompt "witch/monster - blood price". You could call this pre-slash for the belligerent sexual tension. Crossposted on rainbowfic .She’d done it. She’d summoned the monster.
Charlotte lowered her hands, each still clutching a wand—one wooden, carved with the Pictish letters her mentor had taught her, the other a polished staff of quartz she had discovered in Uthcaire Manor’s attic among her scandalous great-grandfather’s collection of occult items. They both felt warm under her hand, crackling with that ice-electricity-fire of magic.
“There you are,” she said, lifting her nose up in the air, as if there had never been any doubt of the efficacy of the ritual. Charlotte Montrouge had been polished in the finest of Swiss finishing schools, and even after the trying five years she had had since, she knew her nose could be devastating. “It has been a while, hasn’t it, Essie?”
Within the interlocking pentagrams and hexagrams drawn in charred chalk on the library floor stood a tall woman-shaped creature. Charlotte would recognize her anywhere, after what had happened in Cairo. She could appear beautiful, if she wished; tonight, she had chosen to wear thick, smooth white fur, with fangs that pressed against her lower lip, and eyes that were more like wolf-eyes than anything human. Still she wore that impeccably embroidered waistcoat in the latest gentlemen’s fashion; still there were those shapely legs encased in riding trousers and tall leather boots. Claws protruded from the tips of her curved, knobby fingers.
The monster opened her lips, something between a smile and a snarl, and then laughed. “My dear, sweet little thing. After all those nasty things you said to me last time, I had to come and see if you were ready to apologize.”
“I am not,” Charlotte snapped. She had forgotten how much the creature aggravated her. “Why should I? Your kind are a blight and a menace, and I will not rest until all the doors between your world and ours are closed.”
“And yet you come knocking on those self-same doors.” Esserve stepped lazily over the chalk line. Charlotte’s fingers tightened on her wands. She may be a mortal woman, and this one of the ancient monsters of that shadowy world just beyond reality, but the blood of magicians ran through her veins on both sides of the family, and she would not be intimidated by the likes of her. Close-up, she could see the tips of a row of horns among Esserve’s luxurious mane, like a crown embedded in her skull.
Her voice was like honey poured over gravel. “Do you wish to bargain with me now, my pretty little witch? Whatever could have changed your mind?”
Charlotte gritted her teeth, though her heart pounded and her belly felt warm. Nothing really excited her these days, except for this. Magic. Facing the abominations that filtered into her world. Standing up to one of them and showing them she was not afraid. “To propose a temporary alliance," she said at last. "There is a gateway I particularly wish closed, for reasons of my own, and I need… help. It is not one that can be closed on my side alone. And you…” You I knew would come. If I asked. “You bargain.”
“Now she needs my help,” Esserve rumbled, and Charlotte could feel that voice right in the bottom of her belly. “Quite right. I am fond of a bargain, so long as it is a fair one. And what will you give me in return, if I close this gate for you?”
Charlotte breathed in through her nose, keeping her chin tilted up to stare the monster right into her unnatural eyes. “If you allow me to continue my life unharmed, undiminished, and work against your kind in the future, and if you do not touch my family… you may name your price.”
A sharp intake of breath, and then a slow, luxurious release. “What happened to your pride, little witch?”
Charlotte did wish she would stop calling her little. Most would rather call her tall; even so she only came up to Esserve’s shoulder. “Get on with it. Name your price.”
“I will take my prize now, if you don’t mind.” The monster raised her clawed hand and pressed it on Charlotte’s chest.
The wands lit up in Charlotte's hands. Magic razed through her. She could stick both those magical power-rods into Esserve and perhaps be rid of one more enemy... No! That gate stood far too close to the Well of Forgotten Voices. To the fount of all her family’s secrets.
When Esserve took her hand away, Charlotte’s chest stung and burned at the same time. Her foot slid back an inch, but she did not step back. “What did you do?” she gasped.
“Marked you as mine,” Esserve whispered as she withdrew towards the shadows in the corner of the library. “Unharmed. Undiminished. Free to continue your pointless little mission. But mine. Consider it a patronage and a great blessing, Charlotte Patricia Montrouge.” All that remained of the monster were her eyes, glowing golden in the dark. “I am Esserve of the Holly and Hawthorn, and I do not allow anyone to break my things. Call me when you are ready to receive your end of the bargain.”
The absence of her flooded into the room. It was as if a heavy darkness had lifted and the moonlight was allowed to trickle back in. How long had they spoken?
Charlotte put down her wands with shaking hands upon the desk and screwed the gas lamp on. The light blossomed as blue flame, then golden. She carried the lamp to the small table under the ornate Georgian mirror between bookshelves marked Classics and Lore, set it down and undid the buttons of her blouse.
Across the breadth of her chest from her collarbones down to her breastplate were swirling markings, a script even older than Pictish. Even as she watched the bloody wounds closed up, leaving neat white scars behind. Her shirt was soaked through with red.
“Hmh. Pity.” She wrinkled her nose. “That was French silk.”
no subject
She’d done it. She’d summoned the monster. One of my favorite openings ever as well.
no subject