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wolfpawn · 4 years

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I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 159

Chapter Summary - Tom and Danielle tell Luke their news before it is declared to the world.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1 @black-ninja-blade

Luke stretched his neck and cursed falling asleep sitting up the night before. Tabloids had caught wind of Tom being at Wimbledon and every last one to see it made note that Danielle was not there with him and assumed they had been the first to realise that she had left him or him her without any shred of proof or indication of such. It was hardly the most taxing or bothersome of stories but it covered more of the internet than Tom's recent outings so he had to keep an eye on it all the same. He found himself rolling his eyes at the analysis of some people declaring that Tom was depressed looking, or elated to be rid of Danielle, depending on their own personal thoughts of her. To be honest, Luke could never understand what would make a woman willing to endure the sheer madness of Tom's life outside of genuine love of him.

He looked at his watch and noted that Tom would be arriving at his office supposedly in the next fifteen minutes. He shook his head. Tom tried to be punctual, he really did, but he would get caught talking to someone or get overly interested in a book and genuinely be too polite to excuse himself or forget the time before being delayed and turning up late and apologising profusely. He was unsure why Tom asked to see him with no situation that he could think of to warrant an official enough meeting between them. He knew of Tom and Danielle's trip to the seaside with his family, he worried that perhaps something had gone awry there and the pair had seen fit to part ways, but his tone on the phone was pleasant, something he knew with confidence that Tom would not be inclined to be should his friend and his partner had broken up.

Only five minutes later, he received a call from his secretary informing him that his clients were waiting outside. He chuckled and he gave his assistant the go-ahead to let them in before waiting to see what it was he was dealing with, the plural giving him an indication it was not an impending breakup.

Tom and Danielle came in smiling, Tom embracing his friend and Danielle giving him a small peck on the cheek as they entered. “Hello, I was worried about this meeting at first, I see that was a terrible assumption on my behalf.” He indicated for them to sit across from him at his desk. “I assume that this is an official visit?” Tom smirked and handed a sheet of paper to his friend. Luke looked at him sceptically before taking the piece of paper and opening it. For a moment, he looked at the paper before looking up at the pair across from him. “Really?”

Tom smirk turned and lifted Danielle's hand, showing her ring to him. “Mum is having it put in tomorrow's paper because Danielle is working in London for a fortnight and she will be spotted wearing it, so we thought it best to inform you so to prepare for whatever madness arises.”

Luke reread the piece again before smiling brightly. “Well, after the claims from yesterday, this will be hilarious, congratulations to you both,” he looked at Danielle's hand. “Antique and classy, as though I could expect anything else.”

“What's this of yesterday's claims?” Tom asked worriedly.

“You, going to the tennis final by yourself is somehow a declaration that you two have gone your separate ways.” Luke informed them. “Danielle’s absence is nothing short of a formal break up announcement in their opinion.”

'Wow, this will be awkward for them,” Danielle scoffed. “Are we allowed any time apart? I dare say it is tiring being attached to one's significant other all the time. I was too busy stealing our niece for a few hours to boil myself in the unusually warm weather.”

“Yes, I cannot believe it had lasted this long.” Luke looked to the air conditioning vent in his office. “If that fails, I will be relocating to a freezer.” Tom and Danielle gave a laugh. “So, this is official? When are you thinking about a wedding? There's nothing rushing this is there?”

“No, nothing of the sort, we are talking about next summer, most likely. Nothing is planned yet, though Mum very much has plans to change that soon for fear we delay.” Tom informed him.

“Well, I appreciate the consideration. We can ensure everything is covered on this side of things,” Luke smiled before chuckling. “For a time, I genuinely never thought I'd see the day. You finding someone and settling down. Danielle, you made him see sense.”

“And this is my penance apparently,” she joked in return. “I’m sorry for the bother that this will cause you.”

Luke shook his head slightly. “Please, this is what I do as my living, I am just grateful that this is a good and pleasant situation to be overseeing as opposed to what others have to deal with. I will have this place ready for it, all I can say is like with the announcement that you two are together, there will be positive and negative reactions.”

“We know.” Tom gently rubbed Danielle's hand. “As Elle said, you will have to bear the brunt of this, so long as Elle stays offline,” he gave her a small pleading look.

“What, some people are ridiculous and hilarious?” She shrugged.

“And cruel and spiteful and some outright sick in the head,” Luke added, which Tom nodded to.

“They're the minority and the immature. People with odd notions of somehow finding Prince Charming and him ignoring obvious issues such as age, geography and other aspects and running away with them to live happily ever after into the sunset together. And I will admit, I enjoy their tantrums when I'm in the right mood.”

Tom shook his head and sighed. “You are mad.”

“You knew this anyway.” She laughed with a slight shrug as they all rose from their chairs.

“Elle, I need to speak to Tom for a moment, if that's alright?” Luke requested.

Danielle did not even blink before smiling brightly. “Of course.” She stepped out of the room and went to sit on one of the comfortable chairs outside Luke's office.

“A little warning?” Luke chuckled. “I know you said soon but you never mentioned it being this swift.”

“The last time I tried to plan around her, she overheard part of the conversation and thought there was something to worry about. I hadn't a time and place planned, I just went with what felt right and thankfully, she said yes.”

“Against her better judgement, no doubt.” Luke joked. “I am thrilled for you, Tom, I really am. How was your family's reaction?”

“You need to ask?” Tom beamed. “Mum is anxious to start planning.”

“So, it really is going to be a long engagement, as they do?”

“I don't think you could force her forward. Apparently, her cousin is getting married in the Spring of next year, which is already being noted as being too soon and to go ahead of that is a social faux-pas like nothing before by Irish standards.”

“I'll take your word for it. But being honest Tom, I am not sure Elle should allow herself read what some people are going to say, this will get a vitriolic reaction from some, in the same way Ben Cumberbatch and his wife suffered. I am not joking when I say that there may be reason to alert the authorities should they threaten her physically.”

Tom's eyes widened slightly. “They are just vocal online because of anonymity, they surely wouldn't….”

“They don't tend to, no but considering the abuse I physically witnessed her receive the time it was revealed she and Emma were friends before you began seeing one another, people seem to forget that they cannot say and do what they like without consequence. You too have noted how things have changed, Elle's safety from fanatics, and indeed yours is paramount. I think some may not take this well and get angered at you also.”

Tom studied Luke's expression. “What do you not tell me about what you see online with regards me and Elle?”

“You would lose sleep if I told you everything,” Luke confessed. “But with even YouTube stars being shot dead by supposed fans these days, no PR person can take any threat too lightly.”

“Alright, we'll be smart,” Tom swore, not certain as to whether or not he would say too much to Danielle for fear of scaring her when it was more than likely not necessary.

Luke made towards the door and opened it. When they stepped out, Danielle was looking astutely at her phone. She did not notice the two men standing beside her as she focused on the work plan in front of her.

“More changes?” Tom asked, knowing that she had been given two altered sets already.

She looked up at them and put her phone on standby. “No, just studying the street plan to see where are dangerous positions for large machinery.” She explained as she sighed. “I really should do more on my laptop or invest in a tablet, I am going bleary-eyed from looking at a small screen.”

“Business expenses, it's a great excuse,” Luke suggested with a grin. “I will alert everyone here to the imminent news so don't worry about that. You two have a pleasant day before your faces hit every celebrity news site and no doubt a tonne of papers and don't allow it to bother you.” He shook Tom's hand but Tom pulled him in for a hug. “You did better than you should have.” Luke jested.

“There's no need to tell me I am punching above my weight.” Tom acknowledged.

“Elle, congratulations, or commiserations, I'm not sure which is more suitable, it's debatable.” He moved forward and embraced her.

Danielle laughed at his words. “Well, you've had to endure him for enough of a period of time to know the truth in that.” She gave him a peck on the cheek. “Thank you for this and I really am sorry for any bother this creates for you.”

“If I did not wish to deal with public relations, I think it is safe to say I am in the wrong job.” He laughed as they walked to the office door. “I will be contactable if either or both of you want me and of course, I will be keeping you both posted on everything here.” After giving their thanks, Tom and Danielle left. Luke smiled at his friend's news and happiness as they did so before looking to the piece of paper in his hand and turning to his secretary. “Could you call everyone to my office please?” He requested, causing his secretary to go and do as requested. “We're in for a busy day tomorrow.”

The engagement is announced between Tom, only son of Dr James Hiddleston, of Oxford and Mrs Diana Hiddleston, of Aldeburgh and Danielle, the only child of the late Dr Matthew Hughes and the late Mrs Bridget Hughes, of Connemara, Co. Galway, Ireland.

The next morning, The Telegraph declared to the world in its engagement section that Tom and Elle were engaged. To them, bar the texts of congratulations from those they had not told by text themselves, nothing was any different. Tom kept Danielle offline by strategically requesting that she assist him with a long overdue clearing of his wardrobe, as it was becoming cluttered. Before he said anything, she had a black bag readied, her sleeves rolled up, and a terrifying look of determination on her face, Tom felt allowing her online would be less painful at that moment.

“I don't want to dump anything.”

“There are clothes here with holes that are not supposed to have holes,” she pointed specifically to a pair of socks that Tom was certain he wore training for the London marathon over a decade previous with large holes in any seam it had. “Do you need these?”

“No.” A moment later, they were in the bag. She then held up a t-shirt with a hole in the armpit. “No, not that,” he pleaded.

“Have you worn it in the last year?”

“I haven't worn it in over a decade.”

“Then why keep it?”

“It means a lot to me, I have a lot of fond memories in this.” He smiled at the t-shirt before taking it from her. “In RADA, I always wore this before a performance that mattered, for grades and such.” He watched as she took it from him and folded it neatly and placed it on the bed with a loving smile before holding up something else. “Don't bother dumping that, burn it,” he declared, physically wincing at the shirt she was holding up. “What the fuck was I thinking?”

Danielle assessed the shirt and shook her head. “I think it's safe to say you weren't thinking. I take it you bought this when you were shitfaced someday and thought it a good idea?”

“No.” Tom growled before looking at her sheepishly. “I was hungover and my shirt was covered in...well not pleasant things and my lift back from Cambridge was due and there was no way I would be allowed in the car otherwise and it was the best of a bad lot.” Danielle laughed. “So burn it.”

She glanced over the shirt. “It hasn't been worn since has it?”

Tom shook his head. “I'm still trying to figure out how it got here, I'm fairly sure I dumped it years ago before moving here.” He watched as Danielle placed it in a smaller empty bag she took out. “What are you doing?”

“Donating it. That could be something someone else needs.” She smiled.

Tom could only smile at her, elated at the knowledge that the world would now know she saw him as worthy of something she held in such high regard like marriage.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #i hate you i love you #chapter 159 #wolfpawn

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aparticularbandit · 5 years

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Current State of Bandit Fic:

This is long, so I apologize to everyone on mobile if that read more does not work and you have to scroll through a really long thing you don’t want to read. Sorry!

Completed JTV Fics (by which I mean completed drafts not completed and posted):

Carla

The rough draft is completely finished.

There are fifteen chapters total.

Some of these chapters are really rough and need a lot of editing.

Okay maybe not a lot but definitely some editin.

I plan to post a chapter every other week hopefully on Mondays.

But honestly idk if I’ll keep track of which Mondays I’ve posted a chapter and which I haven’t unless I have something to alternate them with.

Luisa and the Fox

The second draft is completely finished.

It’s off with my betas.

I’ve mostly let it lie fallow for the past month-ish (or maybe only a couple of weeks idk how long it’s been friends), which means I should be able to come at it with new eyes, too.

There are five chapters total.

However, I do currently plan to have a second connected fic that’s half a direct follow-up and half I just want Luisa and the Fox fluff.

Stuff that didn’t really fit into the fic proper (like the freckles scene).

I plan to post a chapter every other week on also hopefully on Mondays.

The plan is to alternate these with Carla chapter updates, but right now I’m waiting on input from at least one of my betas before posting another chapter.

This may change in the future because I’ve been getting antsy for...a lot of reasons.

In-Progress Posted JTV Fics (by which I mean I don’t have a completed draft):

If You Lived Here, You’d Be Home Now

Now that Carla’s rough draft is finished, polls have said to focus on this one.

These chapters are harder, so hoping to do one a month.

But this really depends on how well the chapter is going - y’all probably noticed a longer wait between chapters 7 and 8 because group therapy was a barrier.

Unlike Carla and Luisa and the Fox, this fic doesn’t really have a chapter-by-chapter plan (and even Carla didn’t until those last chapters...mostly).

So I kind of know what I want to happen through the course of the fic and the order of things but sometimes more set-up is required than just jumping around (or maybe it’s not but I feel like it is).

I have no idea how many chapters are left.

At least seventeen, if my current projections are correct, and that’s dealing with stuff that I feel like needs to be in separate chapters (although I may change my mind on that later), not even necessarily including stuff that I want to sprinkle in among other things (Rose meeting with her therapist, scattered Susanna stuff, etc.), which means it might be longer, it might not be.

And like - even with those seventeen - I feel like some of them definitely warrant some cool-down time between or something like that, so guesstimates would project more than that.

Jane: The Real Story

This was second on the polls as far as things y’all wanted me to focus on.

I don’t plan to schedule updates on this one. They may just happen when they happen.

These tend to be less intensive than the IYLHYBHN chapters, and they may fill in the every other week on Mondays slot when Carla is posted, but don’t hold me to that because I would prefer these to be unscheduled.

I also have no idea how many chapters are left.

I do plan on at least getting into s2 and s3 and potentially dealing with some of the stuff happening in s5 - like the Michael has amnesia! bit because that was part of the original post - but this is subject to change.

Mainly I have plans for that Michael bit and then dealing with Susanna and why Luisa and Rose are gone for a while.

And if this turns into Jane quit telling Mateo lies! then we...need an older Mateo.

I don’t know where/when I plan to end this.

This one is super flexible and I intend to leave it being flexible because I like having it that way.

The Adventures of Rose, the Baker’s Daughter

I like writing fairy tales don’t judge me.

This may jump into the every other week on Mondays slot when Luisa and the Fox is posted, but I may just start immediately into the other Luisa and the Fox fic that I mentioned instead. Not sure on that yet.

I don’t know how many chapters are left.

There are at least seven, but just as with IYLHYBHN, that’s stuff I feel should be segmented into chapters and does not include other stuff that might happen between those chapters (like, for instance, I have a couple of general plot point chapters for later but don’t know all of the interconnected stuff). In this case, I’d expect more than seven chapters. If I finish it. Y’all don’t seem too keen on this one.

There’s a lot of uncertains on this one, too, but I think that’s okay because y’all don’t seem too excited for it.

In-Progress Unposted JTV Fics (by which I mean I don’t have a completed draft):

Everything’s Coming Up Rose’s

90s rom-com au that no one really asked for but I’m over 17k deep into writing so you’ll probably get it anyway.

I mean. Technically it was fourth on stuff y’all wanted me to focus on, actually ahead of The Adventures of Rose, sooooooooo. Y’all want it but when it comes down to only getting one option on things, you don’t.

And you certainly don’t want it more than any of the other proposed aus.

Looking at maybe twelve? chapters.

Already wrote the first two and started the third, as well as having a chunk of chapter...7?? written and a bit that maybe shows up in chapter...8?? and another bit that might show up...in one of the earlier chapters maybe but I’m not sure where to put it yet.

The first two chapters are super rough but I like them, and I like this story. A lot. Which is why it kind of hangs out and still shows up on polls.

AND LIKE. I ACTUALLY KNOW THE WHOLE PLOT. DO YOU KNOW HOW RARE THAT IS.

I don’t know when I’ll start posting this one, and since y’all’ve told me y’all want me to focus on other fics in-progress and other aus, this should be lower on my totem pole but. I like it. So it’s not.

Luisa and the Fox: Shenanigans

Continuation of Luisa and the Fox.

No set number of chapters.

This is here for me to have more with these characters because I like them and there was more I wanted to write with them (originally just the freckles scene, but there’s starting to be some other stuff that I kind of have hanging around in my head that I might do) that didn’t really fit into the original story.

Don’t plan on posting these until after Luisa and the Fox is posted for obvious reasons, and this may fall into the every other Mondays slot once Luisa and the Fox is done. I haven’t decided yet.

Brainstorming JTV Fics (by which I mean they’re primarily in the brainstorming stage but they may have a little bit written for them):

Harry Potter AU

The most requested AU on the poll.

Currently projected to have seven multi-chapter books.

Currently planned to be set concurrent with the original series.

Which means it may be more a crossover than an AU. Ish.

I’ve been rereading the original series so as to get a better idea of how things fit together (and the anti-Slytherin stuff and commentary is so big and I don’t think it stops because even if you bring up Snape it’s in context of we sorted him too soon and he should’ve been in Gryffindor so like. THOUGHTS).

This looks like it will be really long if I keep with this idea and write the whole thing.

Please don’t expect this to be finished quickly.

Please expect that I will likely take breaks to write other things.

Focus is on Clara as the viewpoint character.

I’ve made changes to birth years so that Clara and Luisa are born in the same year.

This does put Luisa a year higher in school than Clara, but since they’re in different houses anyway, this doesn’t really present a problem.

I might be overthinking this.

I’ve started outlining the first book.

I paused at chapter twelve because still figuring out the overarching series plot so the first book plot should tie into that.

I do have a general idea of character arcs for Clara/Rose and Luisa over the series and how that plays into what is discovered by the original trio over the series.

I also have a good idea of what happens in the final battle. It’s the externals that’s causing me more problems than the character-character and internals.

I’ve started the first chapter of the first book, but it’s really rough and probably will have a lot of changes.

Hallmark Holiday Special

The second most requested AU on the poll.

Currently I have a general idea of which version I want to go with.

Those of you who were around in November/December know that there were two variations I was playing with. A lot of aspects of those got retooled and put into Everything’s Coming Up Rose’s - and I mean a lot of aspects of both because I took the Rose from one and the Luisa from the other and meshed those together. However, this means I can take the one that plays the Hallmark tropes straight and not worry about the complications I’d originally planned for that because they come up somewhere else, which. lets me play it more straight.

Straight, hah.

Maybe five chapters?

Off the top of my head thinking about where the chapters would break?

Maybe?

Sounds about right?

Because they’re, like, 1.5hr shows with commercial breaks every fifteen minutes, but each commercial break is like five minutes or more, so there’s like. five segments, right? Something like that? My math on this is probably wrong but. five segments? Maybe?

I could probably jump back into writing this (I did start this somewhere in November/December) but I think I want to retool the beginning for other stuff that I think might mesh better than what I initially did. And it needed to be edited and I should rewrite the beginning anyway, so.

This is just backburner as far as writing because do you see all of the other stuff?

Also there’s -- just because I know what needs to happen in each chapter doesn’t mean I actually have concrete plot for each chapter and I kind of want to know the complication before I jump into writing so I can make sure to get that set up properly soooooooooo we’ll see.

The hope is that I have this set and ready to post in July.

Primarily because the idea of Christmas in July makes me happy.

--and you know what. There are five Mondays in July. I could just have this be what I update weekly in July if there are actually five chapters.

Tentative schedule maybe????

University AU

Tied for third most requested AU with canon-compliant soulmate AU, which is below.

Since the poll for prof/prof or student/student is deadlocked at a tie, I plan to go with prof/prof.

To counterbalance the HP AU, which is a really long extended student/student AU. With a whole bunch of other stuff.

I may do a student/student university AU later, but probably not.

My most recent ideas for the student/student university AU combines with the non-canon-compliant soulmate AU and hit some of the same points that IYLHYBHN does but in a different way with different variations. Ish. So because I still have general ideas for that, maybe, maybe not. Unsure.

This is currently being brainstormed.

I have a general idea for how to start this off.

So, like, the first two chapters, maybe? Or, like, a prologue and the first chapter?

I know how I want Rose and Luisa to meet, which would be the second chapter or...not the prologue.

I have a general idea as far as Luisa’s character.

I have less on Rose as far as concrete aspects, but I may get there.

I might jump into this one before the Hallmark Holiday Special just because it’s lingering in that place where you feel like you could be starting off on writing something and it’s there sort of thing?

Idk, it feels like less fluff than the HHS, which still needs some plot straightened out before I feel completely comfortable jumping back into it.

Canon-Compliant Soulmate AU

Tied for third most requested AU with university AU (see above).

I’m not focusing on this right now.

I know people like the one-shot and want a continuation of that, which is why this was on the poll.

I like the one-shot as a one-shot. I think it is complete as a one-shot. I don’t think expanding on that one will actually make it any better.

Which is why, if I revisited the soulmate timer idea, I’d planned on doing it differently and ended up combining it with the university student/student AU idea.

I do not plan on continuing the one-shot but instead want to deal with other soulmate AU tropes if I do another soulmate AU.

Given that I’d rather play with other soulmate AU tropes, I want to look through general ideas. Once one of those stands out to me as something that could mesh better in the long form for something canon-compliant, I can start better brainstorming.

So I guess this is less in the brainstorming stage and more in the idea collecting stage.

I hang out in the RPC, so I should be able to find one of those soulmate tropes posts at some point. And if not, you have all these other things above to look forward to that are getting more focus than this is.

This, of course, doesn’t include any one-shot ideas or the other aus I listed on that poll (I still really want to do the SG/Tick/JTV crossover because I’ve got ideas for that and how that would work), nor does it include any non-JTV fics I may or may not be writing/editing/etc.

So, basically, lots of content if I can get my butt sat down to write it. We’ll see how it goes because, honestly, looking at all of this is intimidating, and like, I’m excited for...most of these projects but. It’s a lot. It’s a lot.

But I just wanted to update y’all on current projections for these.

#musings #bandit does an update #bandit writes fic #carla stuff #luisa and the fox #iylhybhn stuff #luisa and the fox: shenanigans #jtv: the real story #roisa hp au

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ravkanreads-blog · 6 years

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The Cruel Prince, by Holly Black [goodreads] my rating: ★★★★★

SYNOPSIS

Of course I want to be like them. They’re beautiful as blades forged in some divine fire. They will live forever.

And Cardan is even more beautiful than the rest. I hate him more than all the others. I hate him so much that sometimes when I look at him, I can hardly breathe.

Jude was seven when her parents were murdered and she and her two sisters were stolen away to live in the treacherous High Court of Faerie. Ten years later, Jude wants nothing more than to belong there, despite her mortality. But many of the fey despise humans. Especially Prince Cardan, the youngest and wickedest son of the High King. To win a place at the Court, she must defy him–and face the consequences.

As Jude becomes more deeply embroiled in palace intrigues and deceptions, she discovers her own capacity for trickery and bloodshed. But as betrayal threatens to drown the Courts of Faerie in violence, Jude will need to risk her life in a dangerous alliance to save her sisters, and Faerie itself.

Never in my entire life did I think a book about faeries would capture my full and undivided attention, let alone destroy my life so utterly and warrant all of the love in my itty bitty heart. But alas, here we are.

I’ve never been the world’s biggest fan of faeries or other similar fantasy creatures. For some reason, whenever a synopsis would mention them, I’d slowly back away and then run in the other direction. Then, when Throne of Glass descended into excessive fae male-ness without warning or cause, I truly feared I’d have an aversion to faeries forever. But there was so much hype surrounding this book and so many friends telling me I should read it, so I decided put to put my hesitation aside, just this once, and boy, am I glad I did.

THE STORY

“The odd thing about ambition is this: You can acquire it like a fever, but it is not so easy to shed.”

The Cruel Prince follows Jude Duarte, a mortal girl living an ordinary life with her parents, her twin sister Taryn, and their half sister Vivienne, who is half-faerie. In a tragic turn, Vivienne’s father Madoc, a faerie general, murders Jude’s parents. In what proves to be an even greater tragic turn, Madoc steals the sisters from the mortal world and raises them as his own children in the land of Faerie, where Jude is pretty much doomed to be looked down upon for the rest of her life.

Since Madoc is a general for the High King, Jude and her sisters are basically raised among faerie royalty. And although the high society faeries she grows up with make her life a living hell, Jude wants desperately to fit in among them, but as a mortal, she can never compare to their beauty and power. She’s learned to live among them, dealing with their cruelty and hatred and pretending she isn’t afraid of them, but she’ll never be one of them. And she’s so tired of it.

Soon enough, just swallowing all the cruel insults and pranks isn’t enough for Jude. She’s bitter. She wants revenge against those who wronged her. She wants to have power over them, as impossible as that seems, and she wants it now. So when the opportunity arises for Jude to seize just that, she takes it.

Against a backdrop of twisted court politics rife with deceit and betrayal, Jude becomes a spy and an assassin, hoping to work her way up in the faerie courts. For once, her mortality is an asset. For once, everything seems like it’s working out. And then, of course, a wrench is thrown in her plans and if this didn’t sound absolutely delightful already, that’s when it really gets going.

I adore this story, I really do. I’ve now discovered that faeries are manipulative and chaotic and I love reading about manipulation and chaos, so someone please explain why I’ve never willingly picked up a faerie book before. And Jude’s role in all of this, as a mortal, adds such a cool twist to what could have been a very traditional, formulaic faerie story. Also, I love dark fantasy, and light this is not. There is treachery everywhere and it is so compelling and wonderful.

“Faerie might be beautiful, but its beauty is like a golden stag’s carcass, crawling with maggots beneath his hide, ready to burst.”

Alongside the plot, I also found the writing in this book to be absolutely gorgeous and descriptive. Holly Black did such an incredible job painting a picture of the dark, frightening beauty of Faerie and delving into the characters’ skewed motivations with ease. The writing style really just heightened the atmosphere, intensity, and my enjoyment of the story.

My one gripe with this story–and it’s really not a serious complaint at all–came in whenever the setting shifted to the mortal world, or when the characters’ talked about it. For some reason it just made me uncomfortable to be so enthralled by the world of Faerie, and then suddenly I’m walking through Target. It was really jarring and weird to me every time it happened. But I also feel like even this served a purpose, because that’s how Jude feels about the mortal world, being removed from it for most of her life.

Anyway, the fact that a book about faeries actually got me this invested took me by surprise. Except not really, because with so many good things coming together in one book, I was bound to like it. While it has its slower sections, the entire thing was a wild ride from start to finish. I was turning pages at the speed of light and trying to predict what would happen next. (I was usually wrong.) This is definitely one of those books that I wish I could reread without knowing all the twists and turns.

CHARACTERS

There’s something to hate about every character in this book and it’s glorious.

The complexity of the characters’ motivations and actions is what really made this book for me. I love twisted characters who do bad things for righteous reasons, or good things for despicable reasons. I love manipulative characters. This book is full of them. Without that element, I doubt it would have been as intriguing to me, personally. The characters worked hand in hand with the plot and the atmosphere to truly make this story dark and delicious.

Jude Duarte:

“Before, I never knew how far I would go. Now I believe I have the answer. I will go as far as there is to go. I will go way too far.”

First of all, I’d like to make it known that I would let Jude kill me if she really wanted to (and she might, if I got in her way). I think she was supposed to be “unlikeable” but I don’t even care. I love her so much and that is all.

I always find myself drawn to female characters like Jude–she fits perfectly into this archetype that I adore, every single time, without fail. A female character is downtrodden and spit upon her entire life, until it leads her to become resentful and ambitious and gives her a desire to wield power over those who wronged her, and she will go to any lengths to get it. I literally never get tired of this. For me, watching Jude grapple for power and influence in Faerie was the exact equivalent of curling up in bed and watching my favorite movie, popcorn and all, except more violent and less cuddly. I was rooting for her so hard.

One of my favorite things about Jude’s character is her ambition and determination, even when she’s been underestimated and afraid for most of her life. The dark places her character ends up because of that ambition are so interesting, considering where she started off.

Cardan Greenbriar:

“Prince Cardan, sixth-born to the High King Eldred, yet still the absolute worst.”

I still haven’t decided exactly how I feel about Cardan Greenbriar. On the one hand, he’s arrogant and cruel and a bully. By all means, I should hate him, right? On the other hand, by the end of the book, it was very difficult to hate him. I’m shook.

Cardan, admittedly, is a garbage fire of a human being (faerie being?) and an absolute mess. Despite being a prince, which entails being somewhat respectable, he does virtually nothing besides taunting others and getting ridiculously drunk. He’s elitist, entitled, and senselessly wicked. In the earlier parts of this book, I wanted to strangle him. Frequently.

But as we learn about the viciousness of the royal family and the faerie courts, the world in which Cardan was raised, we discover that Cardan hides behind many masks and wears many faces to get by. He’s a victim of manipulation and abuse, and while that doesn’t excuse his behavior, it does allow us to sympathize with the thought process behind it.

Ultimately, Cardan is a complex guy whose layers Jude and the reader have only just begun to peel away. I like him. I’m not sure if I’ll ever love him, but I’m excited to see his character move forward.

Locke:

*insert photo of a garbage can here*

Moving on.

Jude’s Family:

“Three is an odd configuration of sisters. There’s always one on the outside.”

This is one messed up family. I won’t say much, but wow.

Vivi is definitely my favorite of the bunch. Every time she appeared, she lit up the page. But the rest of Jude’s family? Yikes. Despite how much I can’t stand them all, I did find Jude’s relationship with Madoc to be intriguing, and I’d love to see more of it in the future. I also enjoyed the relationship between the three sisters at times, but mostly because it was interesting to see how each of the sisters shaped Jude.

RELATIONSHIPS

Given the abundance of betrayals and the abundance of morally gray characters in this book, there’s bound to be some drama. Lots of complicated relationships, mhmm I love me some of those. However, if I had to pick a favorite...

Jude and Cardan:

“You remind me that I am a mere mortal and you are a prince of Faerie. Well, let me remind you that means you have much to lose and I have nothing.”

Jude and Cardan’s dynamic is one of the most twisted–and compelling–I’ve read about in a long time. Like, to the point where I think back to the beginning of the book and then look at the end and go how on earth did we get here.

At the start of the book, Cardan hates Jude, because Jude is mortal. And Jude hates Cardan because he treats everyone like crap, namely her. It seems simple, but there are so many layers to peel away when it comes to their interactions. Because as much as they hate each other, their lives keep intersecting in the most unexpected ways and I have lots of feelings about it.

I’m not sold yet on the idea of a romantic relationship between them, but I can’t deny that their scenes were crackling with electricity. Whether that electricity was sexual tension or unadulterated hatred or both, I guess time will tell. Whatever happens, bringing two of the most screwed-up, twisted characters in this story together, in any capacity, has already proven to be interesting, and I cannot wait for more interactions between them.

FINAL THOUGHTS

I went into this book fully expecting not to like it, for my own dumb reasons. Now, here I am, loving it and telling all my friends about it and watching all of my feelings concerning it pour from my heart like an unstoppable flood. It’s everything I could ever want from a book about trickery and betrayal, and its dark, magical atmosphere completely pulled me in. Also, I love Jude Duarte. I love her so much and she carried this story along so wonderfully. I’m proud of her.

I highly recommend this book for fans of high fantasy with political intrigue!

Holly Black, bring on The Wicked King.

#booklr #review #review*#jul 18 #*

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ayearofpike · 6 years

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The Lost Mind

Pocket Books, 1995 213 pages, 16 chapters + epilogue ISBN 0-671-87269-9 LOC: PS3566.I486 L6 1995 OCLC: 32826282 Released August 1, 1995 (per B&N)

A girl is dead in the woods. Unfortunately, the person who finds her is no help, because not only does she not know where she is or how to find help, but she also doesn’t know anything about herself. All she knows, instinctively, is that she shouldn’t let on where she was or that she found the body first, at least not until she can learn some more about what happened and how they both ended up where they did.

I was really looking forward to this reread, and I’m disappointed that it sort of falls flat. Pike does that thing where he perfectly captures the tone I want — the sinister anxiety of not knowing, the ultimate unreliable narrator who doesn’t even know her family, let alone what happened to have her wake up next to a murdered girl — but in the end doesn’t give enough details to satisfy the plot resolution. And honestly, I’m kind of torn about it. Part of what makes entertainment “good” for me is how much I am trusted to put together the pieces and figure things out over the course of the story. But it shouldn’t be on me to CREATE a major piece that fits into the hole in the puzzle.

It seems a little bit like a wasted opportunity, to be honest. This book is not only shorter than a lot of what he’s written so far, but I could swear that the type size is larger too. There was room to put in some of the things that I thought were missing, but I guess he just didn’t think of them as needing to be included. But I’m ripping this story down before I’ve actually recapped anything, and I need to do that to get there. (On the upside, they’ve gotten rid of the die-cut covers that shred on your bookshelf.)

We start, as mentioned in the woods. Our main character awakes as though from the dead, unusually cold and covered in blood, though she’s not seriously cut anywhere. The blood, it seems comes from the blonde girl lying nearby, who has been stabbed multiple times in the chest. And the knife that probably did it is within arm’s reach. As our protagonist racks her brain trying to think of where she was or what she did the night before, she comes to an unsettling realization: she can’t remember anything. And by “anything,” we mean

where she is

who she is

where she lives

where she comes from

NOTHING.

All she’s sure of is that she didn’t kill this girl, but that if she tries to report anything she’s the immediate and only suspect. And going to jail is worse than having no memory or personality. (Except she does, as we’ll see, which ... we’ll get there.) So she pockets the knife and blunders her way out of the woods, where she finds a car. The key is in her pocket, and there’s a clean sweat suit in the trunk. But she’s not ready to admit culpability in the blonde’s killing — she just wants to stay clear. She rinses off as much blood as she can in a pond before changing and climbing into the car, where she finds a purse with her ID. Apparently she’s Jennifer Hobbs from Carlsrue, Oregon, but none of this rings a bell or turns on any lights. All she can do is drive, toward the hint of lights in the distance that she thinks may be her town.

You might be thinking there’s a first suspicious plot question here. Why wouldn’t she drive AWAY from the town if she didn’t know anybody or anything, rather than putting herself at risk of implication in the death? I didn’t actually have a problem with this. Obviously it was a huge shock to wake up with no memories, and it makes sense to me that she wants to try to find them again, maybe through immersion in where she’s from.

So Jen calls home and talks to her mom, who wants to know if she’s with Crystal. She assuages her mom’s worries, sort of, but doesn’t go straight home because she doesn’t want to be questioned about her change of clothes. Instead, she gets a snack at Denny’s, where they ask why she’s out so late without Crystal, then finds a trash bin behind a store to dump off her bloody clothes. By the time she gets home, her mom is asleep, but she doesn’t know which room is hers and accidentally wakes her little brother, who insists they share a donut and talk about stuff that Jen doesn’t remember or understand.

Jen quickly falls asleep after this and dreams of a fortune teller near a wide river, who she torments with a sharp knife after smoking a powerful drug that dissociates her from her body. She is woken by her mom at the door, who asks if she’ll drive her little brother to school. Another slip: Mom refers to the kid by his name, but apparently Jen’s always only called him by a nickname, Gator, after his propensity to bite as a toddler. She gets him to guide her to school by letting him sit on her lap and steer, which is another weird thing for him, but hey, nine-year-old gets to drive so he’s not arguing too much.

The first person she encounters at her school is her boyfriend, a football meathead who immediately asks her for three hundred dollars. Obviously she doesn’t know why or remember agreeing to help with this, but she says that she might have an easier time finding the money if he walks her to all her classes. Only halfway through the day she has to bail because she’s learning more about Crystal, i.e. that she’s not in school and her teachers think it’s weird that Jen doesn’t know why. So she goes home and finds last year’s yearbook, and learns what we already suspect: Crystal is the dead body in the woods.

This realization hits Jen like a ton of bricks. She’s crying and she’s not totally sure why, seeing as she doesn’t remember anything. When she eventually calms down and reaches for her phone, she sees that she has messages on her answering machine. Three are from Crystal’s mom, growing increasingly frantic. The fourth is Amir, who wants to talk about last night. Finally, someone who was there and can help her figure out what happened! Amir is worried that Crystal might have run away, for obvious reasons. When Jen doesn’t get it, he says it’s because Crystal found out about their affair. So now not only was she the last person to see Crystal, and the one person in the world who’s closer to her than anyone else, and she woke up next to her body and a knife, but now Jen has a motive.

She calls the police and anonymously reports the body in the woods, then hides the knife in a nearby park. Denny’s calls and wonders why she’s not at work, and then her boyfriend calls and wants to pick up his money. She puts them both off, because she knows that the police are going to be around eventually, probably sooner than later. When they show up, she realizes that telling the truth (that she doesn’t remember last night at all) isn’t going to help her stay out of jail. So she makes up a whole bunch of details that probably create a story with more holes than if she were just to say hey, we went to Crystal’s boyfriend’s house and got so drunk that I woke up at like 2 without any memory of what happened. The detective is all over her on the inconsistencies and lapses in her memory (what is Jen’s boyfriend’s last name?), and ultimately she asks him to leave. Which he does, with the warning that he’ll be back with a warrant.

Her little brother asks why she’s having trouble remembering things. She says that this has to be a secret between them, and then she goes to read her diary and try to put some pieces together. She doesn’t really like the person she’s reading about, but she does learn that her boyfriend is in major gambling debt and that Amir has only been around for two months but that he wouldn’t let Crystal introduce him to Jen for some reason. Before she can get much farther, her boyfriend shows up asking for the money. Obviously Jen has been preoccupied and doesn’t have it handy, and while she’s scrounging it up her boyfriend takes off his clothes and stretches out on her bed, thinking of either a consolatory (sorry your friend is dead) or celebratory (I can pay off my bookies) screw. As Jen no longer has the baggage of actually knowing this person that she’s apparently been dating for two years, she can send him packing without remorse.

Amir shows up almost as soon as the now-ex is gone, in tears because a) his girlfriend is dead and b) the cops came and grilled him on suspicion of her murder. He thinks he’s being unfairly targeted as a brown Muslim, which ... yeah, probably, but also he was her boyfriend and one of the last people to see her alive. But Amir’s story to the police exposes the holes in Jen’s made-up facts even worse. Plus, he told the cops how he was planning to break up with Crystal for Jen. It pretty much totally screws her, but weirdly at that moment her dream comes back to her, and she asks Amir about Egypt and drugs. He says that hashish was common, but that he never did it because of what it did to his sisters, how it put them in a vulnerable position to be murdered.

When he’s gone, Jen falls asleep again and dreams of Egypt, of an ancient graveyard dominated by a statue of three warring demons, and of the same mystic refusing to give her information about the truth of the soul, but she gets her knife out and torments her more. Again she wakes up to her mom, who is sitting on the bed this time. Her mom wants her to get a lawyer, but Jen doesn’t want to, for ... reasons. Instead, she goes to see Crystal’s parents, to sit in her room and try to understand their relationship. Crystal’s diary is sitting on the desk, and there’s a recent entry about a dream she had. About an ancient graveyard and an old witch and a sharp knife.

Next she goes to Amir’s apartment. He’s out, but she talks to the landlady, who laments the loud arguments that Amir and Crystal were having near the end and how he seemed sick but insisted on watching movies in her living room the night Crystal was killed. She lets Jen into his apartment, where sure enough she finds a hash pipe. Only there’s no way he could have done it, because he has an airtight alibi of actually being somewhere else.

Jen gets home to find the police in her house. They give her a hard time about not being there, and produce a warrant to take her clothes and her shoes from the previous night, as well as searching her room and her car. It’s not looking good for not going to jail for murder; the detective tells her that he’ll be back in the morning, probably with a warrant for her arrest. She does take a minute to enlist Gator to sneak out and steal Crystal’s diary out of her room, which he does because he hopes it’ll help her prove she didn’t kill Crystal. Comparing and cross-referencing the diaries, Jen learns that yes, Crystal and Amir were fighting but that no, she never actually slept with him. Why would Amir lie about this? What does he know?

There’s only one way Jen can think to figure this out: dream some more. In the dream, the mystic tells her about how the human soul is too grand to be born into one body. It takes three, but the three parts are never incarnated in the same place, because terrible things can happen if they all come together. The three-demon statue is symbolic of this: an explosion of uncontrollable evil. However, dream-Jen is not deterred by this. If anything, she wants to make it happen even more, to the point where she’s willing to kill the witch to stop her enforcing her considerable will and magic on her son to stop him going.

Apparently dreaming works, because Jen wakes up knowing what to do. She starts by writing a suicide note. There’s a police officer guarding her house, but she knocks him out by mixing him up a fresh thermos of coffee with a couple sleeping pills mixed in. She pockets the rest, takes the officer’s gun, and heads over to Amir’s place, where she forces him into her car at gunpoint. They drive out to a certain spot in the woods, where she makes him lie facedown on the ground while she swallows the rest of the sleeping pills. Then she ties him up and marches him to the spot where they found Crystal’s body and makes him explain.

Amir confesses that he smokes hashish to try to reach his soul, which is part of why he came to Oregon to seek out the other parts of it. He’d flipped on Crystal, going from amazing love to deepest hate (which is a sides-of-the-heart discussion that Pike’s brought up before, maybe from Hinduism) and thought maybe Jen would be his correct answer. Only when they all came into his apartment that night, the demon door opened and everyone’s souls left their bodies. Amir managed to gain control, not just of himself but of Jen’s body. He forced her to drive Crystal to the woods and murder her, all while he sat in his landlady’s living room. And then he brought his soul back to his body, but Jen’s was totally gone.

And here’s the big hole that I’m left trying to fill myself. If Jen’s soul departed when it was forced out of her body, what the hell is in there now? Like, SOMETHING is giving her emotions and desires and needs to act upon. SOMETHING is motivating her to stay out of jail, to protect her friend and her family, to try to teach her degenerate ex-boyfriend a lesson. What is it? Is it the physical memories of having spent time with these people, manifesting in her mind as a placeholder? Is it just a blank slate from nowhere? Is it part of Crystal’s soul that flew out or broke off when Jen was stabbing her to death, too traumatized to remember anything? There’s no answer, and it’s unsatisfactory. Like, if her soul is just gone, then what is driving her to keep saving her own life?

Also, without actually knowing that this was something that could work, Jen sure did take a massive risk overdosing on sleeping pills before switching bodies with Amir. She says she’s going to kill him with ultimate suffering, so he can feel a fraction of the fear that Crystal had, and she pulls out a syringe and stabs it into his neck, saying she’s about to put a bubble in his vein. This is the act that finally frightens him out of his body and forces him into hers, where he then gloats about winning and leaves her to die in Amir’s body, tied up in the woods.

What he doesn’t know is what kills him. Jen planted the knife just underground, by where she tied Amir’s body, and it’s not hard for her to dig it up and cut herself free. She is amazed to find Jen’s body in the car, a long way to make it on thirty phenobarbitol pills. She drives it home, puts the body in bed, waits for it to stop breathing, and then walks back to Amir’s apartment, sad but relieved.

The epilogue is Crystal and Jen’s joint funeral. Jen’s mom shows Amir the suicide note, which insists that she didn’t kill Crystal but that this is her only way out, and Amir suggests she should believe the note. Then he goes to find Gator, who is confused when Amir calls him by that name but then joyfully realizes that Jen perhaps didn’t die after all, that maybe she just needed to remember in a different way.

And that’s The Lost Mind! Better than a lot of stuff from this era, but still with some holes (and at least one is a monster). I don’t mind figuring some stuff out for myself, and I don’t mind an author keeping me in the dark until the appropriate moment. But eventually, they better turn on the lights, because it’s not my job to write the story, and ultimately that’s what happened here. I love the idea, and I love the tone. But who is Jennifer Hobbs? We don’t ever actually learn this, and the whole story suffers as a result.

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swpiscesean · 3 years

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"Mo Dao Zu Shi" is a high fantasy (Xianxia) mystery adventure and has three versions, as far as I know. I love how the story is so good it doesn't rely on the romance or love scenes at all. It has Asian folklore and traditions, great plot and engaging characters. In essence, it's about two soulmates meeting at the calm before a storm, fighting monsters, evil sects and society's judgments of right and wrong and eventually parting. They are pulled back together to solve mysteries linked to the past. It's rated PG18. It contains love scenes (between the male leads only) and gore (they fight monsters, so duh) and is definitely not for the faint of heart. But this is not my first rodeo and have read books that had uhm "harder" material but subpar plots. Besides, the humor and banter makes it a balanced roller coaster that will leave you crying one moment and laughing the next. This story is so good, it warranted a live (though heavily censored) drama "The Untamed" (available on Netflix but their translation is so-so), a manhwa (comic), a donghua (anime) AND my favorite a mini chibi series (basically cute mini anime that includes scenes in the novel that's NOT in the drama). But this GEM of a line is only in the novel (which I'm rereading for the umpteenth time. The confession scene is just on point I can hear all the fans slow clapping and standing up from behind our respective screens. Some with tears in their eyes and "FINALLY!" on their lips. No joke.) It's been awhile since I've read something warranting a rave this long huhu. (Last was Emma Leech's "To Tame a Savage Heart" and "Flaming June" both in Amazon Kindle. But recently, story wise, "Love and Redemption" also warranted a rave) and even then I don't think it's enough as I find myself both re-reading and rewatching the story. Definitely checking out author's other stories... After MDZS let's me go a bit (which won't be any time soon lol) . 🎨 @madeorganicallyshop watercolors on 📄 @cansonpaper 💎 #MoRest and #Moblique by @luis.creations #smbrodit #smbrodit_calligraphy #silverlinings #bookreview #smbrodit_bookreview https://www.instagram.com/p/CPA6E5Rnf80/?utm_medium=tumblr

#morest #moblique #smbrodit #smbrodit_calligraphy #silverlinings #bookreview #smbrodit_bookreview

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dream-love210 · 7 years

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In 1933, Prince Charles was eighteen and Disa, Duchess of Payn, five. The allusion is to Nice (see also line 240) where the Shades spent the first part of the year; but here again, as in regard to so many fascinating facets of my friend’s past life, I am not in the possession of particulars (who is to blame, dear S.S?) and not in the position to say whether or not, in the course of possible excursions along the coast, they ever reached Cap Turc and glimpsed from an oleander-lined lane, usually open to tourists, the Italianate villa built by Queen Disa’s grandfather in 1908, and called then Villa Paradiso, or in Zemblan Villa Paradisa, later to forego the first half of its name in honor of his favorite granddaughter. There she spent the first fifteen summers of her life; thither did she return in 1953, “for reasons of health” (as impressed on the nation) but really, a banished queen; and there she still dwells.

When the Zemblan Revolution broke out (May 1, 1958), she wrote the King a wild letter in governess English, urging him to come and stay with her until the situation cleared up. The letter was intercepted by the Onhava police…

Eventually he managed to inform her that he was confined to the palace. Valiant Disa hurriedly left the Riviera and made a romantic but fortunately ineffectual attempt to return to Zembla…She flew back to her perch in a mood of frustration and fury (mainly, I think, because the message had been conveyed to her by a cousin of hers, good old Curdy Buff, whom she loathed). Several weeks passed and she was soon in a state of worse agitation owing to rumors that her husband might be condemned to death. She left Cap Turc again. She had traveled to Brussels and chartered a plane to fly north, when another message, this time from Odon, came, saying that the King and he were out of Zembla, and that she should quietly regain Villa Disa and await her further news. In the autumn of the same year she was informed by Lavender that a man representing her husband would be coming to discuss with her certain business matters concerning property she and her husband jointly owned abroad. She was in the act of writing a letter...She looked up--and of course no dark spectacles and make-up could for a moment fool her.

Since her final departure from Zembla he had visited her twice, the last time two years before, and during that lapse of time her pale-skin, dark-hair beauty had acquired a new, mature and melancholy glow. In Zembla, where most females are freckled blondes, we have the saying: belwif ivurkumpf wid snew ebanumf, “A beautiful woman should be like a compass rose of ivory with four parts of ebony.” And this was the trim scheme nature had followed in Disa’s case. There was something else, something I was to realize only when I read Pale Fire, or rather reread it after bitter hot mist of disappointment had cleared before my eyes. I am thinking of lines 261-267 in which Shade describes his wife. At the moment of his painting that poetical portrait, the sitter was twice the age of Queen Disa. I do not wish to be vulgar in dealing with these delicate matters but the fact remains that sixty-year-old Shade is lending her a well-conserved coeval the ethereal and eternal aspect she retains, or should retain, in his kind noble heart. Now the curious thing about it is that Disa at thirty, when last seen in September 1958, bore a singular resemblance not, of course, to Mrs. Shade as she was when I met her, but to the idealized and stylized picture painted by the poet in those lines of Pale Fire… I trust the reader appreciates the strangeness of this, because if he does not, there is no sense in writing poems, or notes to poems, or anything at all.

She seemed also calmer than before; her self-control had improved. During the previous meetings, and throughout their marital life in Zembla, there had been, on her part, dreadful outbursts of temper. When in the first years of marriage he had wished to cope with those blazes and blasts, trying to make her take a rational view of her misfortune, he had found them very annoying; but gradually he learned to take advantage of them and welcomed them as giving him opportunity of getting rid of her presence for lengthening periods of time by not calling her back after a sequence of doors had slammed ever more distantly, or by leaving the palace himself for some rural hideout.

In the beginning of their calamitous marriage he had strenuously tried to possess her but to no avail. He informed her he had never made love before (which was perfectly true insofar as the implied object would only mean one thing to her), upon which he was forced to endure the ridicule of having her dutiful purity involuntarily enact the ways of a courtesan with a client too young or too old; he said something to that effect (mainly to relieve the ordeal), and she made an atrocious scene. He farced himself with aphrodisiacs, but the anterior characters of her unfortunate sex kept fatally putting him off. One night when he tried tiger tea, and hopes rose high, he made the mistake of begging her to comply with an expedient which she made the mistake of denouncing as unnatural and disgusting. Finally he told her than an old riding accident was incapacitating him but that a cruise with his pals and a lot of sea bathing would be sure to restore his strength.

She had recently lost both parents and had no real friend to turn to for explanation and advice when the inevitable rumors reached her; these she was too proud to discuss with her ladies in waiting but she read books, found out all about our manly Zemblan customs, and concealed her naive distress under a great show of sarcastic sophistication. He congratulated her on her attitude, solemnly swearing that he had given up, or at least would give up, the practices of his youth; but everywhere along the road powerful temptations stood at attention. He succombed to them from time to time, then every other day, then several times daily--especially during the robust regime of Harfar Baron of Shalksbore...Curdy Buff--as Harfar was nicknamed by his admirers--had a huge escort of acrobats and bareback riders, and the whole affair rather got out of hand so that Disa, upon unexpectedly returning from a trip to Sweden, found the Palace transformed into a circus. He again promised, again fell, and despite the utmost discretion was again caught…

What had the sentiments he entertained in regard to Disa ever amounted to? Friendly indifference and bleak respect. Not even in the first bloom of their marriage had he felt any tenderness or excitement. Of pity, of heartache, there could be no question. He was, had always been, casual and heartless. But the heart of this dreaming self, both before and after the rupture, made extraordinary amends.

He dreamed of her more often, and with incomparably more poignancy, than his surface-life feelings for her warranted; these dreams occurred when he least thought of her, and worries in no way connected with her assumed her image in the subliminal world as a battle or a reform becomes a bird of wonder in a tale for children. These heart-rendering dreams transformed the drab prose of his feelings for her into a strong and strange poetry, subsiding undulations of which would flash and disturb him throughout the day, bringing back the pang and the richness--and then only the pang, and then only its glancing reflection--but not affecting at all his attitude towards the real Disa.

Her image, as she entered and re-entered his sleep, rising apprehensively from a distant sofa or going in search of the messenger who, they said, had just passed through the draperies, took into account changes of fashion; the Disa wearing the dress he had seen on her the summer of the Glass Works explosion, or last Sunday, or in any other antechamber of time, forever remained exactly as she looked on the day he had first sold her he did not love her. That happened during a hopeless trip to Italy, in a lakeside hotel garden--rose, black araucarius, rusty, greenish hydrangeas--one cloudless evening with the mountains of the far shore swimming in a sunset haze and the lake all peach syrup regularly rippled with pale blue, and the captions of a newspaper spread flat on the foul bottom near the stone bank perfectly readable through the shallow diaphanous filth, and because, upon hearing him out, she sank down on the lawn in an impossible posture, examining a grass culm and frowning, he had taken his words back at once; but the shock had fatally starred the mirror, and thenceforth in his dreams her image was infected with the memory of that confession as with some disease or the secret aftereffects of a surgical operation too intimate to be mentioned.

The gist, rather than the actual plot of the dream, was a constant refutation of his not loving her. His dream-love for her exceeded in emotional tone, in spiritual passion and depth, anything he had experienced in his surface existence. This love was like an endless wringing of hands, like a blundering of the soul through an infinite maze of hopelessness and remorse. They were, in a sense, amorous dreams, for they were permeated with tenderness, with a longing to sink his head onto her lap and sob away the monstrous past. They brimmed with the awful awareness of her being so young and so helpless. They were purer than his life. What carnal aura there was in theme came not from her but from those with whom he betrayed her--prickly-chinned Phrynia, pretty Timandra with that boom under her apron--and even so the sexual scum remained somewhere far above the sunken treasure and was quite unimportant. He would see her being accosted by a misty relative so distant as to be practically featureless. She would quickly hide what she held and extend her arched hand to be kissed. He knew she had just come across a telltale object--a riding boot in his bed--establishing beyond any doubt his unfaithfulness. Sweat beaded her pale, naked forehead--but she had to listen to the prattle of a chance visitor or direct the movements of a workman with a ladder who was nodding his head and looking up as he carried it in his arms to the broken window. One might bear--a strong merciless dreamer might bear--the knowledge of her grief and pride but none could bear the sight of her automatic smile as she turned from the agony of the disclosure to the polite trivialities required of her. She would be canceling an illumination, or discussing hospital cots with the head nurse, or merely ordering breakfast for two in the sea cave--and through the everyday plainness of the talk, through the play of the charming gestures with which she always accompanied certain readymade phrases, he, the groaning dreamer, perceived the disarray of her soul and was aware that an odious, undeserved, humiliating disaster had befallen her, and that only obligations of etiquette and her staunch kindness to a guiltless third party gave her the force to smile. As one watched the light on her face, one foresaw it would fade in a moment, to be replaced--as soon as the visitor left--by that impossible little frown the dreamer could never forget. He would help her again to her feet on the same lakeside lawn, with parts of the lake fitting themselves into the spaces between the rising balusters, and presently he and she would be walking side by side along an anonymous alley, and he would feel she was looking at him out of the corner of a faint smile but when he forced himself to confront that questioning glimmer, she was no longer there. Everything had changed, everybody was happy. And he absolutely had to find her at once to tell her that he adored her, but the large audience before him separated him from the door, and the notes reaching him through a succession of hands said that she was not available; that she was inaugurating a fire; that she had married an American businessman; that she had become a character in a novel; that she was dead.

No such qualms disturbed him as he sat now on the terrace of her villa and recounted his lucky escape from the Palace. She enjoyed his description of the underground link with the theater and tried to visualize the jolly scramble across the mountains… But when he began to discuss the political situation (two Soviet generals had just been attached to the Extremist government as Foreign Advisers), a familiar vacant expression appeared in her eyes. Now that he was safely out of the country, the entire blue bulk of Zembla, from Embla Point to the Emblem Bay, could sink in the sea for all she cared.) That he had lost weight was of more concern to her than that he had lost a kingdom. Perfunctorily she inquired about the crown jewels; he revealed to her their unusual hiding place, and she melted in girlish mirth as she had not done for years and years. “I do have some business matters to discuss,” he said. “And there are papers you have to sign.” Up in the trellis a telephone climbed with the rose. One of her former ladies in waiting, the languid and elegant Fleur de Fyler (now fortyish and faded), still wearing pearls in her raven hair and the traditional white manilla, brought certain documents from Disa’s boudoir. Upon hearing the King’s mellow voice behind the laurels, Fleur recognized it before she could be misled by this excellent disguise. Two footmen, handsome young strangers of a marked Latin type, appeared with the tea and caught Fleur in mid-curtsey. A sudden breeze groped among the glycenes. Defiler of flowers. He asked Fleur as she turned to go with the Disa orchids if she still played the viola. She shook her head several times not wishing to speak without addressing him and not daring to do so while the servants might be within earshot.

They were alone again. Disa quickly found the papers he needed. Having finished with that, they talked for a while about nice trivial things, such as the motion picture, based on a Zemblan legend, that Odon hoped to make in Paris or Rome. How would he represent, they wondered, the narstran, a hellish hall where the souls of murderers were tortured under a constant drizzle of drake venom coming down from the foggy vault? By and large the interview was proceeding in a most satisfactory manner-though her fingers trembled a little when her hand touched the elbow rest of his chair. Careful now.

“What are you plans?” she inquired. “Why can’t you stay here as long as you want? Please do. I’ll be going to Rome soon, you’ll have the whole house to yourself. Imagine, you can bed here as many as forty guests, forty Arabian thieves.” (Influence of the huge terracotta vases in the garden.)

He answered he would be going to America some time next month and had business in Paris tomorrow.

Why America? What would he do there?

Teach. Examine literary masterpieces with brilliant and charming young people. A hobby he could now freely indulge.

“And, of course, I don’t know,” she mumbled looking away, “I don’t know perhaps if you’d have nothing against it, I might visit New York--I mean, just for a week or two, and not this year but the next.”

He complimented her on her silver-spangled jacket. She persevered: “Well?” “And your hairdo is most becoming.” “Oh what does it matter,” she wailed, “what on earth does it matter!” “I must be on my way,” he whispered with a smile and got up. “Kiss me,” she said, and was like a limp, shivering ragdoll in this arms for a moment.

He walked to the gate. At the turn of the path he glanced back and saw in the distance her white figure with the listless grace of ineffable grief bending over the garden table, and suddenly a fragile bridge was suspended between waking indifference and dream-love. But she moved, and he saw it was not she at all but only poor Fleur de Flyer collecting the documents left among the tea things. (See note 80).

When in the course of an evening stroll in May or June, 1959, I offered Shade all this marvelous material, he looked at me quizzically and said: “That’s all very well, Charles. But there are just two questions. How can you know that all this intimate stuff about your rather appalling king is true? And if true, how can one hope to print such personal things about who, presumably, are still alive?”

“My dear John,” I replied gently and urgently, “do not worry about trifles. Once transmuted by you into poetry, the stuff will be true, and the people will come alive. A poet’s purified truth can cause no pain, no offense. True art is above false honor.”

“Sure, sure,” said Shade. “One can harness words like performing fleas and make them drive other fleas. Oh, sure.”

“And moreover,” I continued as we walked down the road into a vast sunset, “as soon as your poem is ready, as soon as the glory of Zembla merges with the glory of your verse, I intend to divulge to you an ultimate truth, an extraordinary secret, that will put your mind completely at rest.”

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