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Searchingwardrobes

@searchingwardrobes / searchingwardrobes.tumblr.com

Psalm 116 Self-published author, Captain Swan fanfiction writer, fangirl, and Southern Mama Sometimes I write book reviews.
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“The Belle Dame Emma”  {Part One}

{Written for the CSSNS21 event}

The initial inspiration for this came from the classic poem by John Keats “La Belle Dame sans Merci”, and the stanzas I have used at beginning and end of the chapter are from that poem. I also wanted to explore a different version of the Dark Swan, and explore more of her fighting against the Darkness as she was in 5a. This story came from those two influences. My aim is to tell it in three parts.

Summary: Legend has it that the fae woman in the meadow will ensnare any who dare enter her domain, but the knight who chances a meeting can tell there is more to the story than superstition and gossip has allowed. The path to the truth and redemption may be fraught with dangers - to the both of them - but is it not the sworn duty of a true knight to help any who may be in need?

A million thank yous to @caught-in-the-filter for the stunningly gorgeous cover art she created for this story, and to @ultraluckycatnd for her beta suggestions and catching my errors. I’m very grateful to both of you! :)

Also available on AO3, if that is your preference

“The Belle Dame Emma”

Part One

I met a lady in the meads,

Full beautiful - a faery’s child,

Her hair was long, her foot was light,

And her eyes were wild.

Some folks say that she was always malevolent. Born to beguile and lure the unworthy to their doom. The fae, after all, were not to be trifled with, and those who dared do so learned their lesson at high cost.

The whispers around the fog-wisped edges of her meadow haunt, the word spoken as warning with anxious glances over the shoulder, was that her beauty was matched only by her fury. That she was possessed with a thirst to punish those who would be lured by her fair form and bewitching song. Those who were wise came to skirt wide around those fallow fields in that sparsely populated corner of the kingdom, for it was said that even those of stoutest resolve and pure intentions found this powerful nymph - be it by her face alone or some magic she wielded to draw them into her web - nigh impossible to resist.

Some retellings of her legend had her thrown from the sparkling court of the fair folk for her cruel and deviant nature. Others claimed she possessed more power and magic than any single faery had before her, and it had simply been too much - bending her better nature into madness. Still other storytellers would paint her more as a tragic sacrifice. The Fae Folk must have one who punished those unworthy of their own kind, as well as the humans who got too close to discovering their kingdom’s gates or who would dare to upset the fragile balance of peace between the two species - who might dare to think themselves equal to, and attempt to win the heart of, a faery. She was simply the one chosen to mete out these judgements. A Guardian and a Gatekeeper, as it were.

And though there is often a grain of truth to any rumor, very rarely do such stories paint their characters as they truly are. Not in full. And the ballad of awe and fear told of the beautiful, but deadly, lady Emma - La Belle Dame Sans Merci - was just such a tale. The whispers bore fragments of reality, but could not explain it all. Though she was not blameless, she was not completely lost. Perhaps there only needed to be some small spark of light, some reason for her to look within for any shred of mercy she might still possess.

So excited about this one! Lovely art as well ❤️

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Desdichado: 13/19

I know, I am doing an awful job at regularly updating my WIP. How about some Captain Charming and some major plot reveals to make it up to you? (Including who the Black Knight is.)

Summary: An Ivanhoe AU that starts off Sleeping Captain and ends up Captain Swan (naturally). In which Killian is a dashing knight, Emma is a healer suspected of witchcraft, and lots of chivalry and sword fighting happens.

Rating: T

Trigger warnings: It’s the Middle Ages, so women are forced into arranged marriages and men treat them like property (except for a few dashing exceptions, of course).

Words in this chapter: 1,000 and some change

Also on Ao3

 Eighteen Years Earlier . . .

The fog of late October rolled through the bracken causing Prince James to trip constantly over tree roots and fallen logs. He wasn’t sure how he would find the soothsayer’s hovel, but desperation drove him. He was yanked back sharply, and he turned to dislodge his cloak from whatever branch had caught him. Yet it wasn’t tree limbs but skinny, dirty fingers that held him fast.

“I know what you seek.”

James almost stumbled backwards as the face drew closer and became visible through the mist. Matted tangles of bright red hair, filthy rags on an emaciated frame, yet the most frightening was her eyes. Or lack thereof. Instead, jagged, garish stitches broke up her face, empty above her nose. The prince’s heart pounded in his chest even more when she lifted her hands, palms out, and eyes blinked at him from each one.

“You always wanted the throne more than your twin brother,” she said to him.

He ran his hands through his hair, damp from the cold drizzle. “I think everyone in the kingdom knows that,” he grumbled.

James remembered the look of horror on his mother’s face when he was only six as his brother coughed up lake water in her arms. The way his father’s arms trembled as he pulled David up from where he had slipped in the ravine when they were eight, barking at James, “Why did you hesitate?” Each time James let his rage seep through, his parents seemed to draw David ever closer. But couldn’t they see that his twin was too soft to be king? The throne should go to James, of that he was certain. And everyone in the kingdom whispered about it, as if they were already afraid of a twelve-year-old. Only because he felt made for the throne?

The soothsayer was expressionless, if a face like hers was even capable of one. She closed her palms for a moment, hiding those disturbing eyes. Then she thrust them once again in James’s face.

“But do they know what the castle prophet said about your newborn sister?”

He narrowed his eyes coldly. He hadn’t been able to sleep since the words had been spoken in his parent’s private chambers. Even he wasn’t supposed to know. He leaned closer to this girl who was supposed to see the future.

“What of it? And more importantly, can I stop it?”

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