Thou Hast a Careful Father, Child

"Assume a virtue, if you have it not."

June 9th

The nurse had not exaggerated in the message she had sent to Adrian. Behind the door, the room was ringing with Frederick's wails. Wailing was not usually in Adrian's purview. If the nurse couldn't soothe Frederick, she went to Ann. It was only natural, Adrian believed, that a small child would be better comforted by his mother. It didn't hurt that the mother was Ann, either. Her warm touch was one of the first things that enthralled Adrian's heart when they were little themselves. Even if her warmth was now often paired with verbal kicks in the backside, it remained a marvel. Adrian didn't have a talent for warmth.

The Traffic of Our Stage

"Exit, pursued by a bear."

July 5th

The experience of months of rehearsals and a premiere performance seemed all for naught. The cast and crew of Who is The Gatekeeper? were in upheaval. The costumers were so far backed up that the stagehands had been called in to fix buttons and hems and hair. Finding things not been carefully reset after last night, Ann was re-organizing the sets and props herself. The few stagehands left to her mostly stood around her, insisting they had not made this mess. Morgaine was ambassador to the various provinces of this kingdom of insanity. As she ran to and fro, she shouted out warnings and reminders to anyone who had ears.

After learning a lesson last night, when she barely finished being dressed before the curtain went up, Belle Norman had arrived very early. She was among the first to be ready tonight. However, this had created a problem of a different sort: Belle had more time than she knew what to do with and no-one to spend it with.

Glorious to This Night

"The sight of lovers feedeth those in love."

June 25th

"Who is my special boy? Who is my special boy?" 

"Gran-mo!" Little Frederick waved his arms and grinned. "Gran-mo!"

Ophelia cuddled her grandson and patted his back. Frederick's small vocabulary had never yet stopped him from talking. Much like his father had, he chattered on happily, often answering any question with the name of the person asking it. The main exception was her husband, whom Frederick had decided was also 'Gran-mo'. "Almost, my precious." Just as she considered her stepson as her own, she loved Frederick as much as she would her daughters' children.

An Old Accustomed Feast: Part Four

Content Warning: Click Here for Warnings (Possible Spoilers)

"These are portents; but yet I hope, I hope, they do not point on me."

December 25th

"Empty. What a cock-up," Cornwall muttered. He needed a drink - no, he deserved a drink. Since drinking the Fae potion to satisfy Regan, he was enduring a second adolescence ten times as potent than the first. If he hadn't yet been aroused by a hole in a fence, it was only a matter of time. The lust was like a headache. Relieving it was necessary, not pleasureful. For all the fucking he had done in three weeks, he hadn't enjoyed any of it. Drinking took the edge off the aching. "Goddamn it, my kingdom for a drink..."