hat keeps me up at night does not have anything to do with any sort of act that I have come to be ashamed of for having done. My loss of sleep will on more ocassions than not has more to do with matters of State, rather than the careful attentions of a lover. Would that I could actually be the hedonistic despot that I sometimes get accused of being.
Tag Archives: theatrical muse
What keeps you up at night?
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What is the lamest excuse you have ever given for something you’ve done?
don’t know why I should deign to answer such an insulting question. Lamest excuse? I make no excuses. I need none. Excuses and apologies are for the weak. Mistakes in life happen because the world is just too damned unpredictable. Anyone with any sort of real power to wield does not make excuses. They are very careful to make their mistakes in such a fashion that even those with the sharpest of eyes are left to wonder if the so-called mistake was not intentional in the first place. An excuse or worse, an apology for having made one, can prove fatal, and so they are avoided. If you apologize, you will be judged by lesser and greater persons as to your intentions or your competence. You must never leave room for doubt on that count, I assure you.
An excuse satisfies no one; therefore you should never give them. Nor should you ever under any circumstance accept them.
Muse: Fanny Fae
Fandom: Original Character / Folklore / Mythology
Word Count: 163
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Comfort
o many put their trust and their definitions as to what is comforting or comfortable in terms of things that are external. For me, having to live between the worlds, in various places, at varying times, there really are few things that I place trust in that are outside myself. Some would say it’s having a full belly, the warmth of a fire on a cold winter night, the love of another, their caress upon their skin, and the feel of soft, clean sheets in a spacious bed with plenty of room to manoeuvre with that lover are the very definitions of comfort. All of those things, I find, are relatively easy to obtain.
The one thing that is most difficult to obtain, and is absolutely essential to contentment is being absolutely comfortable with oneself. After as long a life as I have had, and as much history as I have seen, you have plenty of time to learn to become comfortable with yourself. Many never achieve that in the whole of their lives. Once you are armed with this one elusive quality, you can be comfortable anywhere in nearly every situation. True comfort is having the ability to wield the power that allows you to control your own life. There is something wholly reassuring to being able to say with conviction that you bow neither neck nor knee to anyone and knowing that there are few, if any who have sufficient intestinal fortitude to try to prove you wrong.
That is where I find comfort.
Muse: Fanny Fae
Fandom: Original Character / Folklore / Mythology
Word Count: 225
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Mother
erhaps in my child’s mind I made my mother into far more than what or who she truly was. I was probably all of four years old when she died. My mother was everything that I am not. She was so young, innocent, and full of life. Like me she had dark hair, but unlike me she had blue eyes. Perhaps it was her blue eyes and sweet song that attracted my father, Gan Ceanach. The things I do remember is that she was the one who taught me about the plant spirits. She taught me to interact with them and listen to them. Perhaps it was her innocence that made such a thing natural to a child. In that world, what little I remember of it, I felt safe and loved. The world was full of things that begged exploration, and there was nothing anywhere within it that was not exciting and wondrous to me.
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TM Challenge #127 Describe a chance encounter that changed your life.
have had numerous “chance” encounters whereby my life was never the same. I would be lying if I thought that my life’s course had not been in some way affected in one way or another by an encounter that was just happenstance. I could say this of every deep friendship or intimacy of my life. The meetings were never planned. Nothing was ever contrived or conspired. Perhaps that is what always led to the longevity of such liaisons.
It was the first and by virtue of that fact, most memorable chance encounter was when I met He of the Silver Arm, the Red King, Nuada, that comes immediately to mind. He was the Supreme Sovereign of the Tuatha Dé Danan, and a wonder to all who knew him or had ever heard of him. It was determined by Morgienne that I would go to the Great Council to represent the Fortunate Island. Looking back I somehow believe that Morgienne sent me in the hopes that I would fail or fall victim to some dark, Unseelie Prince. Surely Queen Annwynn, the Queen of Air and Darkness would be sending her heir, Itet.
I pulled the dark cloak about me tighter. This would be the first time I had ventured out of the Black Forest in a very long time. but in this I had little choice. I had followed the Red King, Nuada, to Berlin. The very survival of the world depended upon alliances that could be drawn up here. I had passed through the first gates and fortifications, only to be stopped by a guard at the second.
“What is your purpose here, madame?” the human man, obviously of French origin asked me.
“I am here to see King Nuada, “I said simply in his own language.
The young man scoffed, shaking his head, “Sure, he said returning in French, “and just whom may I say is here to see him? ”
I pushed back the hood of my cloak to reveal my face. The young Frenchman looked at me with astonished eyes. The lightning bolt of recognition of my face clearly made him nervous.
“Tell him that the the representative Lady Morgienne, of the Fortunate Isle…..the Halfling wishes to see him.”
The young man was about to deny me once again, when I heard a voice, one that was used to commanding many speak.
“Allow her, Henri,” he said.
The shadows outside the penthouse of King Nuada were cool, and a welcome respite from the bustle of the City of Berlin. I peered from the tall double doors that were slightly apart. From inside I caught the scent of Seelie Incenses. When my escort opened the doors to announce my arrival to the King, I kept my face a mask.. As the door swung open for me to be received, I caught sight of the wizened, yet handsome head.
Nuada.
I stood barely inside of the door, for a fragment of a moment unable to move and I could not help but feel the rising tide of apprehension that rose from deep inside of me. It was as if each step had to be forced. I’faith it is hard to stand before the one whom many call the Great Seelie Uniter. I inclined my head but did not bend my knee, for as representative of Fortunate Isle, for me to do so would have implied allegiance. Morgienne would not have stood for it, and now was not time for that.
“You come at an inopportune moment, Halfling,” Nuada said quietly, appraising me, “Strange that Morgienne would have sent you.” His power was a palpable thing, and it instilled awe in that part of me that was human. “So, what do you think when you look upon your own people, Faelyn?” he asked.
I gasped, amazed that he already knew my name. “Her Ladyship thought it better that I should come,” I managed, “I have seen but a few of the Fae, Majesty” I inclined my head again.
With a soft approving chuckle he came toward me. When he at last stood in front of me he lifted my chin between his fingers. “Then there is much you will have to learn about your own kind.”
And so over the following days Nuada told me those things which neither my mother, nor my foster-mother, Morgienne, would do. It was he who was the one who instilled in me what it was to be Fae. Nuada was to me as my father was not. While I like to think of myself of possessing all of the tenacity needed to succeed in life, Nuada and our chance meeting stands out most in my mind as having set my feet upon my present course.
Muse: Fanny Fae
Fandom: Original Character / Folklore / Mythology
Word Count: 795
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What was/is your childhood ambition?
“Any man who tries to be good all the time is bound to come to ruin among the great number who are not good. Hence a prince who wants to keep his authority must learn how not to be good, and use that knowledge, or refrain from using it, as necessity requires”
~ “The Prince”, Nicolo Machiavelli, 1469-1527
hey say that who we are is a product of the events of our childhood. I imagine that my life would offer no exception to that particular adage. I decided at a very young age that I would never be the victim of someone else’s power and control. I suppose it could be said that it was always my ambition to rule, if not over others certainly over all aspects of my own life. I daresay that I have achieved both of these things.
I learned first hand how the powerful could either take the power they had and could give great benefit to those around them, or cause incredible pain and suffering. As a child, it was Morgienne, the woman who was then the High Lady of the Fortunate Island who took my mother from me. It happened when I was very small and I did not learn of her treachery until I was on the edge of womanhood. When I did learn of it, it became an all consuming passion; an obsession. I made it a point to study all forms of Power, its Laws and Mysteries. I committed them all to memory and I used them and turned them on upon those who would choose to exploit me and mine.
Even as a child, my ambition was to rule. To be successful, I learned the art of duplicity, which at any court is absolutely essential. With Morgienne, I was unmerciful as she in fact was unmerciful. Constantly over the course of my life, I watched, I observed all the while discreetly insuring that I would take my revenge as well as the throne of High Lady of the Fortunate Island. All that need happen was for nature to take its course. At last, the people saw her for what she truly was, her star began to fade and she was weak enough to be struck. If I had been convinced to be foolish enough to let her live, the viper would have reared up and bit me once more. Morgienne would not have been merciful, and so the viper was destroyed, swiftly, without hesitation and all remnants of her regime swept away. My childhood ambition was at last realized, my desire for vengeance had at last been exorcized.
Muse: Fanny Fae
Fandom: Original Character / Folklore Mythology
Word Count: 380 (Michavelli quote not included in count)
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Generally speaking, how do you think others perceive you?
t all depends upon whom you ask, really. I am told that I am far too ambitious, far too arrogant, or far too beautiful to be of much use to anyone. I was once accused of being rather nice to look at, but with the added caveat that one should never turn their backs on such a woman. They would never know what exactly what to expect. People perceive shall perceive things as they will. Perceptions are not so easily changed and yet there is great power in being both underestimated as well as overestimated in the eyes of others. It keeps more than a few of them in a suspended state of terror. That, too, can be quite useful when the time comes.
To be completely honest, there are very few in the world whom I care about what they think of me. These individuals, of course, know who they are.
Everyone else can go hang.
Muse: Fanny Fae, © Ma’at Publishing 1995 -2007
Fandom: Original Fiction © / Folklore / Mythology
Word Count: 157
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O’ Fortuna
Fortune. Some people have it, some people seek it, some claim to predict it, and some say that it favours the brave. Write a ficlette inspired by the word ‘fortune.’
O Fortune,
like the moon, you are changeable,
ever waxing and waning;
hateful life. first oppresses
and then soothes, as fancy takes it;
poverty and power
it melts them like ice.
Fate – monstrous and empty,
you whirling wheel, you are malevolent,
well-being is vain and always fades to nothing,
shadowed and veiled, you plague me too;
now through the game I bring my bare back
to your villainy.
e are all slaves to fortune of one kind or another, whether we will or no. Some view it as fame, that magickal elixir that will insure immortality of a kind. From the great Greek warrior, Achilles, to the meanest scullery maid hoping to catch the notice, if not fleeting, of her Lord, fortune takes many forms. Fortuna, that fickle Goddess is ever changeable. Her insignia, the wheel, is like the spinning wheel of the Fates, and very much like the wheel of mediaeval torture. Sometimes it is torture to endure the turns that the wheel makes within our life. It is at the centre of the Wheel and in our life that balance is found. The Wheel of Fortune also can become like the wheel of a ship, whereby we make it to serve us – rather than being dictated by it and blown about by the winds of Fate.
All who knew Morgienne knew her to be intelligent as well as ruthless. It is perhaps to her that I owe my present position, for so often there is no glory for a woman unless she were to be far more ruthless than any man could ever be. It was I who took the Wheel of Fortune within my grasp and wrenched it free from the hands of the Fates and from Morgienne.
I face the same now as she did then. I know that Fortuna shall cast her gaze from me and affix it upon another. And for their time, they shall rise up and I shall be seemingly plunged down, cast from power, rent asunder. Unlike Morgienne, however, I will remain and rise up again. This I know. You see, I have one thing on my side. That one thing is the gift of incredible age, for even as my enemies who will rise to power, they too will fall and I will still yet live. Though the profane shall pass away, the spirit is constant. It is imperishable. The answer to the riddle of the Sphinx, also found within the symbology of the Tarot, is Time. Time is what I have plenty of. And so goes the cycle of life.
So spins the wheel of Fortuna.
Muse: Fanny Fae
Fandom: Original Character / Folklore / Mythology
Word Count: 369 (Not including the portion of translated lyrics of “O’ Fortuna” from “Carmina Burana” by Carl Orff )
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Fanny Fae 