undergrounds | Bríd Bríd, come in; thy bed is ready

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Bríd Bríd, come in; thy bed is ready

Thig an nathair as an toll

Seven Sisters, Imbolc

The shop itself has been closed for the day. Still, invitations have gone out to everyone in the supernatural community but especially to the covens of both Circle Midnight and Circle Daybreak. Imbolc is a time for new beginnings, and Abigail Widdowson intends to make it one worth remembering.

(Headers for Imbolc here.)

Là donn Brìde,

Geap Manor, all February

Abigail Widdowson is now the Maiden of Witches.

It is a role, she is well aware, many would not see go to a Circle Midnight witch, especially not a Widdowson. But just as Sylvia is supposed to represent both Circles as the Mother, so is she as the Maiden.

So, letters have been sent.

Letters of welcome to every witch she knows of and every coven she's aware of. They demand nothing; there is no expectation of tribute or the like. Though she's sure that's happened in the past. Instead, it is a letter of invitation to call upon her at Geap Manor.

To meet her.

Ged robh trì troighean dhen t-sneachd

Westminster, mid February

"I placed my order ten minutes ago!"

It's a small inconvenience, really, and Abigail knows it, but it's just one of the many, many things that have been going wrong lately. Especially since she just got blown off for a meeting because 'an urget matter' had 'come up.'

But it's to be expected. Even with her new title, of course the Night Council really doesn't want to see her. They probably know what she's planning. What little idea has seized in the back of her mind. The less attention they pay to her, the harder it'll be, they know. But, well. She knows that the only way to get attention when someone is trying to ignore you is to get louder.

Right now, though, she's trying very, very hard not to take it out on the barista.

"Okay. Again. All I want is a hot chocolate. Shot of espresso. Shot of vanilla. Whipped cream. Please."

She even hands over her card again. Because if she has to pay twice? That's just fine.

Air leac an làir.

Enfield, late February

"Who's there?"

She can't avoid going outside, even after dark. As much as Abigail would like to just shut herself up in Geap Manor forever given everything happening, it's just not plausible. But her recent status of Maiden has made her a little more paranoid when out of the house.

Before, it was just the universe out to get her.

Now? She has actual enemies. Even if she's determined not to let them make her change her life. She hasn't forgotten that vampire Sylvia set on her. Sure, it had been in a controlled environment and just meant to scare her, but... It had done its job. And she didn't know how many more there were.

She needs to get silver, no matter what Unthank thinks about that. A small witch's amulet isn't much to really protect her, and she knows it.

All she has for protection is the phone in her pocket, and there's not much 999 can do about the supernatural.

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"Holy-- Get inside."

But it's said with all due warmth and a smile as Abby motions Nancy in and pushes the heavy door closed behind her. She has on more make-up than usual, even though she's trying to look like she doesn't. But it sort of hides the dark circles under her eyes from way too many nights spent awake.

But the sight of the pizza--

"Glad I didn't order out. C'mon in. I'll get a better fire going. The heater's being temperamental."

"What?" Nancy asks as she slides into the house. When the door is shut behind her, she starts to remove her shoes, setting the drink and pizza down for a moment to properly get rid of her many outer-layers. Hats, gloves, scarves, just your usual day around here in the freezing rain.

"A fire- wonderful!" Growing up, she'd been used to a fire constantly going in the Den. They hadn't had heating, so it was always layers and fires going, a few spells on various candles to give off more heat, except in the summer.

"You look-" okay, no, don't even start that, she shakes her head and picks up the offerings again. "Can you get two shot glasses? I think we need them."

Abigail laughs a little and motions Nancy toward the large fireplace in the sitting room. While she lets Nancy get settled, Abby goes and gets the shot glasses. Well. Not shot glasses. Proper tumblers. But, hey. They can work for shots.

"God yes. I need a shot or two."

Tumblers are shot glasses if you try hard and believe in yourself. It's a known fact.

When Abby returns, the pizza box is open, and so is the whiskey. Immediately, Nancy starts to pour liberally.

"I know. You look it." And they needed to talk and she was bad at talking without alcohol. She was bad at doing anything without alcohol.

Abby, did you know your friend is a highly-functioning alcoholic?

She hands one of the tumblers to Abby. "Here. To the best damn Maiden to ever happen. You deserve it, and Redbright and Norrell can suck your dick." One hell of a toast, right? She holds her glass up to clink.

Abby raises her glass and then drinks. Not without a cough or two after swallowing, but she does still drink.

"Maybe we can finally make some progress about real acknowledgement now." Not that she's expecting that to be easy. But... With Nancy, she can talk a bit more freely.

"I took a semester off uni."

Oh. Oh Jesus. "You're- you've been doing all of this," she gestures to the living room around them. "-and you're still going to school?" She had had no idea. Going to university had never been an option for her, nor for most people she associated with, bar say, clients.

"Bloody fucking hell." She'll just pour Abby some more to drink, don't mind her. What she didn't get was why she went in the first place, though. Here she was with a prominent role in the politics of their world, young, beautiful, and hella rich as far as she could tell. But she was still working, going to school. It seemed so strange. Over-kill.

Certainly over-kill to a girl like Nancy, who'd never had the option. Who had never even been to school.

"I'll be really impressed if you decide to go back."

"I want to go back."

University, childhood. There's a lot that she wants to go back to, really. Things that make sense. That don't have her scared almost every moment of every day. She sighs and leans back, taking another sip of the alcohol.

"But I probably won't. Ever. Because now... Midnight needs to be represented. On the Council."

"Maybe you will." Once all this shit with Norrell was over, and unfortunately, she didn't ever think it was.

"But it won't always be your job to represent us." It's one of the many times that Nancy feels guilty for not taking a more prominent role. But she couldn't. She wasn't in the same sort of position that Abigail came from, a prominent family, money. Nancy came from nothing, was nothing, and continually was treated as such.

"And I won't live forever, either," Abby mutters with a sigh.

"I'm already on borrowed time, honestly. And I just keep getting myself in a worse position." Yet, there, she can almost laugh. Because, well, at least it's a life she's choosing. She can make a difference for however long she lives, and she can leave a mark on something.

"Wait. Borrowed time?" She sits up and leans forward, eyebrows raised. Because you can't laugh at things like that, and honestly, if Abigail was in trouble, more than Nancy knew, at least...

"What's going on, Abby?"

"You've heard of the Widdowson curse?"

It's old and more legend than anything else, she knows, but she can imagine that Nancy's heard about it at least a bit.

She shakes her head. "I just thought that was old rumors."

"Five hundred years ago or so... a witch whose... lover or sister or something, the story's always been different... A witch who lost someone to their desire for a male heir cursed the family."

Abigail sighed. Fact mixed with fiction, and there wasn't much telling what had really happened.

"The line was supposed to end with Sir Roderick. However, he and his wife and Unthank found a way to... circumvent that. And, since then, the curse keeps trying to enforce itself. And we keep making deals with fae to survive it. Geap Manor protects us as long as we don't leave it, and we're usually safe until the age of eighteen. When... we're no longer under Unthank's protection."

She purses her lips, shivering a little. Creepy, even by their standards. When Abby turned eighteen... That had been two years ago. She really was living on borrowed time.

"What- are you going to make a deal, Abby?" She had to know. Making deals with fae was never a good thing. Ever.

"I had one all written, actually," Abby admits with a sigh. "Protection for myself until I had an heir and they turned eighteen. So I could see them grow up at least that long."

It wasn't something she talked about often, but the thought came nonetheless now.

"My dad didn't specify. Not well. So his deal... I was only thirteen, but it was considered fulfilled. Dad, Mom, and baby brother headed for a concert. All in the car. And I was home sick with the flu."

Nancy swears low under her breath and moves in a bit closer to Abby.

"Shit." That's what they did, though. They found ways around everything, the fae. You have to make sure it's air-tight and then some. "I'm so sorry. I had- I had no idea." The poor girl. Comparatively, Nancy had had it easy, never knowing her mother.

What do you say to that?

No. She knew what to say to that.

But she couldn't. It wasn't the time, and she hated the pity she was sure to get from telling Abby her tragic origin story.

"You'll get it right. Get it air-tight, I know you will." She'd help.

Taking a long sip, Nancy puts her glass down again. "Seems fae like to run both of our lives."

"The fae I negotiated with just..." Abby shrugged her shoulders. "He never came to finalise the deal. So I'm back to not having that deal. Not having the protection."

Which meant every day was a risk. Every little possible accident.

"Ever notice how things happen a lot around me? Reckless drivers, mean dogs... Things like that? Curse trying to do its job."

"Oh." Shit, this just kept getting worse and worse, didn't it? "We've got to get him back." There had to be something they could do. She wasn't going to summon a fae, god knew, but all the same. She couldn't lose Abigail to a stupid curse.

She considers this for a few moments, then nods. "I... Wow. I never considered that." She needed to probably not spend time around trouble-magnet Nancy over here. "Could you make another deal? With another fae? I know that things got.... messed up the last time we met with him, but Eames is a good man." She'd never, ever offer the chance to talk with Fagin. Ever.

"He offered to 'give' us a territory at the same time the fae were taking another." Abby's voice has a little more bite than she means for it to, and she shakes her head. "I just... I don't trust him."

So far as she was concerned, they'd been used as a distraction to keep Daybreak busy, and that left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"I'll be okay. I promise."

"They gave it to us. It was Daybreak that made it impossible for us to get Croydon. That wasn't supposed to happen." She presses her lips together. "But I get it. I- I trust him with me. He's- I'm under his protection." Not Fagin's anymore. It was only a matter of time, however, before Fagin found that out. Then she was screwed. "I don't want you to hate him."

She looks at her with furrowed brow. "I'll do anything I can to help you. I hope you know that." Nancy would do anything for any of her friends. Kenzi still continuing to be on this earth was proof of that.

"I don't hate him. I promise. I just don't trust him."

Because of a bit of hurt pride, yes, but there were other reasons. Plenty of them. All about that 'gift.' Unsettling, all of it. And she shakes her head just a little.

"I wouldn't trust anyone who put conditions on a gift. But I don't hate him."

Phew. That made things easier.

"Alright. I understand that. I just want you to know- only seems right." Meanwhile she still hadn't told Abby that she was a prostitute, a blood worker, anything of the sort. It hadn't been necessary. So she'd never given her that information. Besides, a girl like Abigail would hate a girl like Nancy, if she knew what she really was.

Kenzi at least, had morals, where Nancy had none.

"Thank you." She picks up her glass again. "So. To termless deals and long lifelines?" It sounded nice, at least.

"And," Abigail adds, raising her glass, "good friends."

She takes a drink. Even if she and Nancy haven't always been close, she's a good friend. Anyone who would make a promise in blood and stand with her through all of this, even in the shadows? She couldn't ask for better. Because it made sure she wasn't alone. That she had a thought of who and what she was fighting for.

"And good friends," Nancy echoes and takes a long drink. Swallowing, she leans back. Tonight is a night for not caring. For simply relaxing with a friend.

"Can we say fuck politics tonight and just, I don't know? Relax? Because you need it." Truthfully, so did Nancy, but she wasn't the one in need here.

Abigail laughs a little and gives a nod.

"Fuck politics," she agrees, raising her glass again and taking another drink.

Bríd Bríd, come in; thy bed is ready

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