Eliot Waugh (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
existencemisspent) wrote2021-08-30 11:11 am
existencemisspent) wrote2021-08-30 11:11 am
Entry tags:
Castle Whitespire, Fillory, Monday Fandom time
Tick Pickwick, former Regent and current CFO of Fillory, stood in his usual position before his monarch, and refused to let his smile waver. "I'm sorry, your majesty. We simply don't have the funds to —"
Eliot cut him off. He was really tired of hearing this. "We'll just have to borrow."
"Begging pardon," said . . . one of Eliot's other advisors. Look, there were kind of a lot of them and they were always whining about money and Eliot's focus had been kind of elsewhere lately since, oh yeah, Margo vanished, Quentin killed a god, and magic went away. "But Tick is right."
Eliot stopped listening. One of the fairies was walking up to the Fairy Queen, who was seated in Quentin's throne to Eliot's left. Glancing over at them and trying not to stare at the empty throne of the High Queen where Margo should have been sitting, Eliot watched as the slightly masc fairy handed their queen a black and white rabbit.
He was the only one who could actually see the fairies, something to do with making fairy deals. Technically, he supposed, Fen could still see them, but she was a bit distracted being completely bat shit crazy and cooing at the log she'd decided was their stolen first born child.
Look. There was just a lot going on here, okay?
The Fairy Queen stood, brought the rabbit to her mouth — Eliot always half expected her to take a big bite out of the things like a proper dead-eyed horror movie monster — and whispered something to it. Then dropped it into the air, where it promptly vanished through a portal.
Because magic was gone, but only for the humans. Magical creatures like talking animals or unicorns or goddamn fairies were still perfectly capable of sending rabbits through portals to do . . . something.
He was still working on just what that was.
"Sire?" Tick said. By his overly emphatic tone, Eliot guessed he'd been trying to get his attention for at least the last few moments. "Sire. Excuse me. Your majesty."
Eliot sighed. What would Margo say right here? Something angry. Maybe she'd declare war, that'd be nice. "Look. Countries go through recessions sometimes. Until the gold-shitting beetle population recovers, we're just going to have to . . . suck it up and deal."
Fen burst into delighted giggles and tickled her log's nonexistent chin.
Eliot was not nearly stoned enough to deal with all this.
"Your majesty," the head of his army said. "We need to discuss the borders."
Fuuuuuuuuck. "Great." Eliot stood. His advisors looked attentive. "After lunch. Thank you, dismissed."
The advisors didn't look at all happy, but he was High King Eliot the (currently rather less-than-) Spectacular, and they had to do what he damn well said. Like leave him alone for a minute with his crazy wife and invisible usurpers (oo-surpers? Dammit, he still didn't know how that was pronounced). And the still gaping hole where his better half should be.
"You may go as well," the Fairy Queen said imperiously. Eliot shot her a dark look, but she was still fondling Margo's eye, and when he got Margo back she'd absolutely murder him if he let anything happen to it.
"Great," he grumbled, and stomped out of his own goddamn throne room.
Maybe Josh had some of that 'getting hugged by rainbows' weed left somewhere after all.
"Look," Josh said, directing his minions about the castle kitchens. "I think you just need to look on the bright side here for a minute."
"The bright side," Eliot said, slow and dry. "Which would be. . . ?"
"Magic's not totally gone, right? I mean, if it were we'd have dead mermaids washing up on shore all over the place."
"Yes, Josh, it's very nice that you still go all Teenage Werewolf when either moon is full, but that doesn't exactly help with the fact that my kingdom is broke, my wife is insane, my future husband is still trying to clean up his kingdom after being de-ratted, my whole castle is full of the least sexy fairies ever imagined, and — oh yes — Margo is still MIA."
"I prefer to think of myself as an American Werewolf in Fillory, thanks, but that wasn't my point." Josh held up a spoon, one hand cupped underneath to catch any dripping. "Does this need more cumin?"
Eliot stared at him for a long moment. Josh raised his eyebrows and stared back. Eliot finally leaned forward and took a delicate lick off the spoon, then made a face. "It definitely needs something," he said. "I can still taste the pigeon."
Josh sighed and scooped up a mortar and pestle, grinding away at . . . something that would hopefully make his chili taste less gamey. "My point is," he said, "that magic is still out there somewhere. You say you saw a guy walk in here and literally switch something off, right? So we just need to figure out how to switch it back on!"
"Yes," Eliot said. "A very creepy magical man strolled in here and flipped a magic switch, but I can't find the switch because I am no longer magical. I tried asking the fairies, but they're apparently too busy being strange and mysterious and making me look like I'm talking to thin air." His normally soft, unconcerned tone rose a few degrees and actually broke as he said "Margo's the one who knows how to talk to their queen and she's gone."
Josh winced in sympathy. "I hate to see you like this, man. You're like a pea without your pod."
Oh dear sweet lord of the dance, Josh Hoberman felt sorry for him. (Though at least he'd stopped trying to empathize with stories about being abandoned by supposed friends. Margo didn't abandon him on purpose, she would never do that! The universe was just trying to fuck him over, as usual!)
Eliot rolled his shoulders back and lifted his chin. He would not be pitied, thank you. Sure, Josh was the only person he could even remotely call a friend left in this entire goddamn world — the others all being hopefully safe and sound back at Brakebills — but that didn't mean he could just let himself fall apart. Margo would never forgive him if he just gave up because she'd been missing for a few measly weeks.
And besides, they were completely and thoroughly out of any kind of decent drugs or booze. And having to be rescued from the Flying Forest again just because he was chasing a high would be absolutely mortifying.
"I should get back to work," he said, with tremendous dignity. "See that that chili is ready by sundown."
Josh rolled his eyes. "Sure thing, your highness."
"Majesty," Eliot corrected under his breath, and headed off to go suck down some trashy Fillorian wine and think.
[NFB, NFI, OOC welcome. Eliot's got a little bit to do in Fillory before he makes it to Fandom sometime mid-week. First scene adapted from Magicians 3x01, "The Tales of the Seven Keys"]
Eliot cut him off. He was really tired of hearing this. "We'll just have to borrow."
"Begging pardon," said . . . one of Eliot's other advisors. Look, there were kind of a lot of them and they were always whining about money and Eliot's focus had been kind of elsewhere lately since, oh yeah, Margo vanished, Quentin killed a god, and magic went away. "But Tick is right."
Eliot stopped listening. One of the fairies was walking up to the Fairy Queen, who was seated in Quentin's throne to Eliot's left. Glancing over at them and trying not to stare at the empty throne of the High Queen where Margo should have been sitting, Eliot watched as the slightly masc fairy handed their queen a black and white rabbit.
He was the only one who could actually see the fairies, something to do with making fairy deals. Technically, he supposed, Fen could still see them, but she was a bit distracted being completely bat shit crazy and cooing at the log she'd decided was their stolen first born child.
Look. There was just a lot going on here, okay?
The Fairy Queen stood, brought the rabbit to her mouth — Eliot always half expected her to take a big bite out of the things like a proper dead-eyed horror movie monster — and whispered something to it. Then dropped it into the air, where it promptly vanished through a portal.
Because magic was gone, but only for the humans. Magical creatures like talking animals or unicorns or goddamn fairies were still perfectly capable of sending rabbits through portals to do . . . something.
He was still working on just what that was.
"Sire?" Tick said. By his overly emphatic tone, Eliot guessed he'd been trying to get his attention for at least the last few moments. "Sire. Excuse me. Your majesty."
Eliot sighed. What would Margo say right here? Something angry. Maybe she'd declare war, that'd be nice. "Look. Countries go through recessions sometimes. Until the gold-shitting beetle population recovers, we're just going to have to . . . suck it up and deal."
Fen burst into delighted giggles and tickled her log's nonexistent chin.
Eliot was not nearly stoned enough to deal with all this.
"Your majesty," the head of his army said. "We need to discuss the borders."
Fuuuuuuuuck. "Great." Eliot stood. His advisors looked attentive. "After lunch. Thank you, dismissed."
The advisors didn't look at all happy, but he was High King Eliot the (currently rather less-than-) Spectacular, and they had to do what he damn well said. Like leave him alone for a minute with his crazy wife and invisible usurpers (oo-surpers? Dammit, he still didn't know how that was pronounced). And the still gaping hole where his better half should be.
"You may go as well," the Fairy Queen said imperiously. Eliot shot her a dark look, but she was still fondling Margo's eye, and when he got Margo back she'd absolutely murder him if he let anything happen to it.
"Great," he grumbled, and stomped out of his own goddamn throne room.
Maybe Josh had some of that 'getting hugged by rainbows' weed left somewhere after all.
"Look," Josh said, directing his minions about the castle kitchens. "I think you just need to look on the bright side here for a minute."
"The bright side," Eliot said, slow and dry. "Which would be. . . ?"
"Magic's not totally gone, right? I mean, if it were we'd have dead mermaids washing up on shore all over the place."
"Yes, Josh, it's very nice that you still go all Teenage Werewolf when either moon is full, but that doesn't exactly help with the fact that my kingdom is broke, my wife is insane, my future husband is still trying to clean up his kingdom after being de-ratted, my whole castle is full of the least sexy fairies ever imagined, and — oh yes — Margo is still MIA."
"I prefer to think of myself as an American Werewolf in Fillory, thanks, but that wasn't my point." Josh held up a spoon, one hand cupped underneath to catch any dripping. "Does this need more cumin?"
Eliot stared at him for a long moment. Josh raised his eyebrows and stared back. Eliot finally leaned forward and took a delicate lick off the spoon, then made a face. "It definitely needs something," he said. "I can still taste the pigeon."
Josh sighed and scooped up a mortar and pestle, grinding away at . . . something that would hopefully make his chili taste less gamey. "My point is," he said, "that magic is still out there somewhere. You say you saw a guy walk in here and literally switch something off, right? So we just need to figure out how to switch it back on!"
"Yes," Eliot said. "A very creepy magical man strolled in here and flipped a magic switch, but I can't find the switch because I am no longer magical. I tried asking the fairies, but they're apparently too busy being strange and mysterious and making me look like I'm talking to thin air." His normally soft, unconcerned tone rose a few degrees and actually broke as he said "Margo's the one who knows how to talk to their queen and she's gone."
Josh winced in sympathy. "I hate to see you like this, man. You're like a pea without your pod."
Oh dear sweet lord of the dance, Josh Hoberman felt sorry for him. (Though at least he'd stopped trying to empathize with stories about being abandoned by supposed friends. Margo didn't abandon him on purpose, she would never do that! The universe was just trying to fuck him over, as usual!)
Eliot rolled his shoulders back and lifted his chin. He would not be pitied, thank you. Sure, Josh was the only person he could even remotely call a friend left in this entire goddamn world — the others all being hopefully safe and sound back at Brakebills — but that didn't mean he could just let himself fall apart. Margo would never forgive him if he just gave up because she'd been missing for a few measly weeks.
And besides, they were completely and thoroughly out of any kind of decent drugs or booze. And having to be rescued from the Flying Forest again just because he was chasing a high would be absolutely mortifying.
"I should get back to work," he said, with tremendous dignity. "See that that chili is ready by sundown."
Josh rolled his eyes. "Sure thing, your highness."
"Majesty," Eliot corrected under his breath, and headed off to go suck down some trashy Fillorian wine and think.
[NFB, NFI, OOC welcome. Eliot's got a little bit to do in Fillory before he makes it to Fandom sometime mid-week. First scene adapted from Magicians 3x01, "The Tales of the Seven Keys"]