Tag Archives: theatrical muse

Have you killed anyone before?

ye. I have. More than once and certainly for a variety of reasons. My first kill was nothing so noble as self preservation or self defence. I poisoned my foster mother, Morgienne, former High Lady of the Fortunate Island. I did this in part because she had taken the life of my own mother, and partially because I wanted to usurp her place on the throne of the Fortunate Isle. *shrugs* And why not? She deserved what she got, just as I deserved the throne.

The others that have met death by my hand, it really had less to do with vengeance and more to do with what was in the interests of self-preservation and political expediency. Rarely has there ever been malice behind the taking of a life on my part. One of the great Laws of Power is that you never put too much trust in friends and you learn to use your enemies. And when you destroy an enemy, you need to crush your enemy totally. There can be no chance that the head of the snake can rear up and bite you later on, or that the progeny of the serpent you just slew will in vengeance return to roost where you are. A certain detachment is required, lest you become sentimental and soft hearted and forget that an enemy once smitten and left to live, tends to have a very long memory indeed.

Character name: Fanny Fae
Fandom: Original Character / Folklore / Mythology
Disclaimers warning: Frances Moira MacKay,aka Fanny Fae, aka Faelyn,
et al are based off of one of my ancestors and are therefore sole property of ME!
Challenge topic: Have you killed anyone before?
Rating: PG

Word Count: 238
Crossposted to:

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Who is the one person that you would really like to know what they are thinking, and why?

hen I first considered the question, i’faith, I thought I would like to know what it is exactly that king_of_goblins or curly_bill, thought about any given thing. Both of them seem to elude my way of thinking for rather obvious reasons. Jareth, because I consider him my friend, and yet there is always something that is held in reserve in our friendship on both sides. Bill, because though I like and honestly care for the man as the best friend of my husband and godfather to our daughter, Caroline, I donnae understand him. Some days I think that Bill would help me in a fix, and others I think he wishes he could strangle the life out of me, if it would not cause any sort of detriment to either John or Caroline. I also thought, too, about wondering how redking_nuada felt about me after all these aeons. By all rights I should have agreed to be Nuada’s bound consort for longer than I was, but I had to go my own way. We both knew that.

So at last, I come up on the one person whom I would really like to know what he was thinking – even though most days and at the deepest levels I have convinced myself that I already know. That person would be my husband. Although I am certain that he loves me with the whole of his heart,I want to know why he loathes himself so much, and refuses to forgive himself ever for the wrongs that he has done in life. I want to know why love and understanding cannot penetrate that dark shell that still threatens to overtake him. I know that despair and tragedy have followed on his heels for most of his life, and yet it has been quiet, peaceful and blessed many times over.

Maybe if I were to see it from his point of view I would know why. I would know once and for all why there are things beyond my understanding of Power. There are still things, small things that matter so very much that elude me – even with regard to the one person whom I love more than any other.


Muse: Fanny Fae
Fandom: Original Character /’Folklore / Mythology
Word Count: 359
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Talk about your father….


never knew my father.

I never even met my father until I was grown to womanhood, and even then, it was long after the passing of my mother, my trials under my foster-mother, Morgienne, and my usurpation to become High Lady of the Fortunate Isle.

Gan Ceanach, an Unseelie Prince, known by many names, came to my mother, a devoted young priestess, much to the chagrin of the High Lady of the Island, Morgienne. Within a moon, they realized that my mother was with child. That child was I. He never came to my mother again, not even when she gave birth to me. My father’s brand of Fae arrogance exceeded that of all others. He couldn’t be found, let alone be bothered it seemed. Continue reading

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Write about an overheard remark or secret that you were not supposed to have heard.

“She must never find out what happened to her mother,”Morgienne’s voice hissed, “the favour of Gen Ceanach was mine to take and that bitch, Moira, overstepped her authority. At any rate, it doesn’t matter anymore

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Failure…

ailure?

I don’t believe in failure. Defeat and retreat are not synonymous with failure. The only way that a person could ever truly fail is if they gave up, or worse, refused to try. Everyone has setbacks, everyone experiences defeat. But to crumple up and decide that the experience is a failure is to refuse to learn from it. The refusal to improvise, adapt and overcome is where failure lies. I have had my fair share of defeat and dined on heaping servings of crow.

One such incident during the Fae Wars was when the Fortunate Island fell to the forces of Prince Itet. I had thought I would be able to hold the Ancient City against him and his allies. We were an island of Priestesses, though some of us were trained in weapons and warfare as well as the Temple arts, we were defeated – I was defeated.

But from the moment my foot touched the helm of the barge that carried away from home, I looked over my shoulder at the city and knew that I would return to retake what was mine. In the mists, the towers stood imperious and proud, behind them lay the mountains, a deep lapis blue. The banners of my house still flew from the pitched rooftops of the castle, but not for long. By the time that we were halfway across the bay, some of Itet’s army had made their way to the tower and were pulling down the banner.

“Enjoy your victory…for now, Itet,” I whispered. My mind and my heart burned with thoughts of revenge. In that moment such dark emotions often serve to spur us back from the precipice defeat.

The bargeman mearely looked from his pole at me as if I had lost my mind. He was, however, both careful and wise to remain silent.

Muse:Fanny Fae
Fandom: Original Character, folklore, mythology
Word Count: 282
Crossposted to

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When in your life did you know you were not alone?

hat a contradiction that is.

I have always felt as if I was alone. When are born with one foot in the world of Mankind and the other in the world of the Fae, you never really belong fully to either. It’s rare that either side wants to count you among their number. There is always that small unspoken nuance found behind a smile or a glance that strikes a pang in your heart. You know that they doubt you as one of their own.

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What is the greatest sacrifice you’ve made for love?

hen the snows of February were deep on the Island of Scotland, it was not so on the Fortunate Isle. Through thick clouds of incense and herbs burned on thuribles and pain I gave birth to a healthy baby girl. She, like her father in his youth, had masses of red hair. Her birth, something that might normally have been hailed as a fortuitous event upon the Isle, for me there was only a strong sense of foreboding.

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Letter Writing Prompt for

Dear Sebastien:

I think every time I sit down to write you a letter there must be some sort of thing that has either upset you or I or seperated us. That is not the case this time.

You keep asking me, ‘’Why?” Why do I love you? Why do I stay? Why is it that we cannot tear ourselves apart from one another, and avoid the obvious pain that is coming? The answer to those questions lie in these words, the one phrase in Scots Gaelic that I have taught to you; “Tha gaol agam ort”.* I know that you know what I mean.

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Describe Where You Grew Up

I was born near a small village between Cape Wrath on the Coast of Scotland, and the Highlands, deep within those ancient lands that had been held since time immemorial by Clan MacKay. I was born the daughter of a devoted Priestess of the Great Mother Goddess, the Mother of all Fortune and Magic, and my father was an Unseelie Sidhe nobleman. I was born in the times when Mankind and Fae lived in peace.

Shortly after I was born, my mother took me to the Fortunate Island, where she had served the High Lady, Morgienne. I was still a babe at the breast when she died. Morgienne raised me as her own daughter, and I grew up on this strange island where all women upon it know all of the magic in the whole of the world of humans, and a good portion of that magic that is used within the Fae realms as well.

It is a beautiful Island with lakes and mountains, rounded by deep meadows, and orchards of apples, peaches, mangoes and every manner of fruit that has delighted the world since the beginning of time. No hail, nor torrential rain nor snow has e’er fallen upon the Fortunate Island. The wooded groves and deep forests know every manner of magical and healing herb, and plenty is the only order that there can possibly be. There are marble shrines and temples that dot the Island. Lazily stretching and shaded paths wind past the ornate and impressive structures, some of them feeding into the Island’s centre, and some meander toward the shores of the lakes or to the sea. My childhood was spent exploring every realm of this place. Every cave was a palace, every forest glade a fortress, and in my youngest imaginations, even then, I ruled as Queen.

My favorite tree on the entire island is the ancient mimosa that is large and gnarled. It’s branches and foliage that look like miniature palm fronds, are profusely interspersed with the pink feathery flowers that hold the essence of the most sacred perfume to our people. It would take nearly a hundred stone of flowers to produce one ounce of the sacred oil. I have a small blue bottle of the perfume that has lasted me nearly five hundred years. That tree was my very best friend, when at times I felt that I had none. Its spirit and mine are bonded as every priestess is bound to some totem animal or plant spirit. Even as a child I would sing to it, or play beneath it. At other times I would sleep nestled safely in its branches, as if the tree was a great and loving father, rooted in the rich yet sometimes rocky soil of the Fortunate Isle.

Somehow, over the course of my life, I have ne’er tired of living on an Island. I have gone to many islands. I have conquered them, been stranded upon them. I have been met by hostile natives on the beaches of still others, and yet, each one, in its own way, reminded me so vividly of the Island home where I grew up, and the one place that I will never forget.


Muse: Fanny Fae
Fandom: Original Fiction / Folklore / Mythology
Word Count: 535

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