The Issue of Dark Magic [ Active / Open]

[hurtfew]

i ) THE MAIDEN NOT-SO-FAIR

Abigail hasn't been officially confirmed as Maiden yet, not at the start of the month, and that is something that Norrell is holding onto. He still has time. Time to find something to discredit her, some law by which he can counteract this, some thin straw to clutch onto.

He knows he probably seems desperate, yet he cannot help it. He cannot stomach the thought of this young upstart climbing the ranks this way.

At least, he assures himself, she has no power of the Night Council. He is still the law (or, more accurately, a part of it) and simply being a Maiden does not give her the power to overturn laws that encompass all factions.

Still, it rankles him. He has worked all his life to get as far as he have, and she is so young -- simply being given a position because it has been seen! Not on how hard she has worked, not on merit, but simply on the whims of fate and the previous Maiden! How could they be sure it was not being set up? That the current Maiden was not being bribed or manipulated into this?

No, Norrell will not let this go easy. So it is that he writes to colleagues and allies to express his deep surprise that things are going this way, his concerns over what this may mean for witches and for English magic as a whole, his quiet doubts about Abigail due to her family, her association with fae, her age -- what if this is a fae trick? What if she is going to be made a puppet, manipulated?

He also sends out letters to hunters he trusts and calls up some of the Guardians, for as much as Norrell holds suspicions without evidence that is no use. If he can find some, of course, then there may be leverage...

ii ) THE ISSUE OF DARK MAGIC (For Abigail)

He'd promised to discuss this with Abigail, the exact definition of dark magic. So it is that despite her pending elevation to the position of Maiden, and his various excuses and delays, he is forced to do so in the end.

For now he can assure himself she is not officially a Maiden, and he is not required to acknowledge her as such yet. For now she is simply a High Priestess, and himself a High Priest.

As disconcerting as her potential (or perhaps more inevitable) promotion is.

So he does what Norrell always does when presented with an obvious issue he cannot get past: he ignores it, and pretends it hasn't happened. He treats Abigail exactly as he has before, invites her (perhaps pointedly) to meet him at his offices in the Daybreak Coven headquarters. When she arrives she is met and led through what appears to be a dizzying maze of corridors, so peculiarly disorientating that she will struggle to orientate which way she faces now and which way might be back. A labyrinth spell, of course, for Norrell is an increasingly paranoid man who cannot help but see assassins in every shadow -- cannot help but perceive betrayal and treachery around every corner.

When she is finally shown in he is sat at his desk, glasses perched on the end of his nose and desk a sea of notes and annotations on said notes -- small piles of books and a pile of letters ready to send.

He offers her a fixed smile, one that is a touch alarming in how forced it is.

"Miss Widdowson!" he greets, setting down his fountain pen and lacing his hands together. "I am very sorry I could not see you sooner, the month has been so busy!"

It has not been too busy to see her though, certainly it has probably been busier for her in truth.

"Did you manage to find a copy of the book I recommended?"

Norrell had done his best to silently make sure every copy he had heard of was inaccessible, but there is always a chance he missed one. Why is a complicated thing, but Norrell does prefer to be the one to hold all the cards wherever possible. Even if that makes it tricky to discuss said cards.

iii ) THE DESPERATE BID

With Abigail looking as if she may be confirmed Maiden within a month Norrell needs to secure his position. Midnight having more power, however small their territories still, risks undermining everything he has planned. Their policies on fae are different, their approach to magic different -- whatever Abigail says he knows that their ideals clash in many ways.

Which means Norrell either needs a way to secure Abigail as an ally, bring him to his cause, or find a way to lock her out of having more power.

So Norrell begins to write again. To allies in his own circle, in other factions -- in general expressing concern about the issue of a Maiden from Circle Midnight and what this may mean. Looking for assurance that they would always back himself and the Night Council, and would not tolerate Midnight using this as leverage.

When it comes time for him to have his 'open door session', for a given value of 'open door' (people must still be declared, he must be asked, then they must be led through the maze that is his labyrinth spell to his office at his convenience) Norrell is faintly tired and stressed, as well as mildly irritated by the inconvenience of all this. He had been so happy the previous months, then oh -- how this had soured the taste of his victory.

Still, it could not take the victory away from him. He reminds himself of that as the door clicks open, and lofts an eyebrow curiously at the person being brought in.

"Can I help you?"

Comments

The Issue of Dark Magic

[acrookedchild]

Geap Manor has its way of dealing with intruders and keeping her safe. This place didn't, so Norrell had, obviously, had to come up with his own. And the idea of a labyrinth? It was certainly impressive.

When Abigail is shown in, she's wearing white.

It's a small change in wardrobe, but it's a symbol. She has accepted the role that she will be given, and she's been meeting with the current Maiden to make the transition best.

"I understand entirely, Mister Norrell," she murmurs, offering a smile as she moves into the office. "I'm afraid I wasn't able to find the book. I may have a copy being delivered, but that depends on a friend of the family."

[hurtfew]

Norrell feels both smug and relieved at once, but he manages to hide it successfully behind a sympathetic wince.

"It is difficult to find some of the rarer texts," he says, a man who holds the largest magical library in England. "I have made it my life's work to collect such things, but it can be difficult. Some are held in private libraries, and not even known about by their owners."

He sighs, lamenting the troubles of books perhaps, then brightens.

"But, of course, I do have some notes I have made from my own copy!"

[acrookedchild]

"I'm afraid there's really no point in discussing the matter based on a text I'm unfamiliar with, so perhaps we'll need to discuss a different, more common text."

It might -- just might -- be a challenge. Because the amount of difficulty she'd faced in trying to find a copy of the book seems somehow odd to her. Especially with the Widdowson name. She can't accuse him of anything outright, no, but she can wonder.

"After all, there can be no basis, expansion, and reply without both parties being able to note their source."

[hurtfew]

"Oh!" Norrell says, quite unmoved by this suggestion, "that is quite all right! I have made copies of some relevant parts of the text for you!"

Relevant sections of course meaning the sections he agrees with and likes most.

"Here, I had wondered if this might happen! I thought it best to be prepared! After all, texts on the finer points of magic are not a thing you can simply buy from any book shop! I have also made several pages of notes for you on things I think worth studying --"

And here Norrell begins to shuffle through pages of very small, densely packed writing. It is almost as if he thinks he will be teaching her largely rather than just discussing, which perhaps he does -- and depending on how much of it she already knows (or cares to know), perhaps he will.

[acrookedchild]

"Then you would consider the text fairly simple?" She asks it sweetly enough. "If, of course, it can be lifted from its original document, devoid of context, and not lose anything..."

It's perhaps youthful stubbornness. But she won't easily stand for someone intentionally putting them on uneven footing and then attempting to claim an advantage.

"I must admit, I put a great deal of importance on context. Especially where works of great significance are concerned. The whole of the text itself can be rather illuminating."

[hurtfew]

"It is a book of standards and definitions, sections of it stand well enough alone!"

He matches her smile with one of his own, still slightly forced, and waves her forward to his desk.

"Sutton-Grove is a good starting point! A starting point must exist, Miss Widdowson, if we are to start at all -- and his was the first attempt to categorise magic!"

[acrookedchild]

"It is an uneven starting point," Abigail replies with a sharper tone than she'd intended. Still, the argument stands. She won't retract it. "The law is already on your side. Midnight has no representation among those who make the laws. There can be no proper discussion, however, when there is no room for disagreements using the very text being cited, as the full material is not available."

[hurtfew]

Her tone alarms him and Norrell sits up straighter, the friendly smile replaced by a thinning of lips and a slight frown.

"Miss Widdowson," he begins carefully, "it surprises me that you have such strong opinions on a piece of text I am offering you when you have yet to read it! I had no idea you had such an adept ability to interpret things simply by title alone."

[acrookedchild]

"I have strong opinions, Mister Norrell, because I have not read it wholly. I cannot begin to understand the importance of everything in it until I can see the whole of it."

Calm. Even. Or, at least, she tries to keep it then.

The Maiden Not-So-Fair

[knowstheworld]

Childermass drops himself in his seat across from the other man's desk and watches him write his letters, knowing what he wishes to speak to him about, knowing what he has been called in to do even before the words are out of Norrell's mouth himself.

"You wish for me to find something on her," he says, raising his eyebrows as he leans forward in his seat to appraise the other man. The expression on his face very knowing. He has served Norrell for decades now after all. Of course he's going to ask him to find something to undermine whoever he thinks may be standing in his way.

[hurtfew]

"We cannot have a Maiden from Circle Midnight!" Norrell exclaims, as if this is entirely obvious and Childermass should obviously understand that this is a good reason. "Especially not a Widdowson! You know their reputation for associating with the fae! It is entirely the wrong sort of influence! What other choice do I have but to try and put a stop to it?"

He lofts an eyebrow at Childermass, and something about the tone says he already expects the man to disagree on some level -- it is faintly defensive, while still expecting Childermass to accept his reasons and do as he wishes regardless.

[knowstheworld]

Childermass refrains from pointing out that she is to be Maiden of the Witches, not Maiden of Circle Daybreak, but he knows that if he does it will just incense the other man and he will start puffing even more and then they really won't get anywhere in this conversation.

He rolls his eyes as yet again, everything seems to come back to the fae. Even witches business comes back to Norrell's dislike for the fae. "Does Miss Widdowson have qualities herself with which you find disagreeable, or is it just the thought of her ilk in the position that sends you into such a state?" he drawls in return.

[hurtfew]

"She is a Widdowson!" he exclaims, "you know their history with the fae! Not only that, she is leader of a Midnight Coven! She has lead an attack on Redbright territory, has attempted to take land that rightfully belonged to Daybreak in deals with the fae! How else should I react when such a woman is to become Maiden of all witches? When I have worked so hard to put a stop to such things!"

His fluster only seems to rise at Childermass apparent lack of concern. Childermass should know, should understand! How can he not?!

[knowstheworld]

"Neither you nor Sylvia Redbright have given Abbigail Widdowson any reason to care for you in return," Childermass points out, remaining calm in the face of Norrell's fluster and frustrations.

"She is a witch, she is powerful, and like it or not she is qualified for the position. Is that what you fear?" he asks, giving the other man a direct look. "Do you fear her power? Her potential gain of power in this? Do you think she is going to turn them against you, the way you are attempting to turn them against her?"

[hurtfew]

He scowls at that, like an angry cornered cat, and regards Childermass with the deepest resentment for having seen right through them.

"She will poison their minds. She is manipulative, women have the knack for that I know! She will whisper to them and they may well listen. She is still young! I have worked for this, to get this position, all my life! She is still a girl and now they give her this!"

[knowstheworld]

Childermass tips his head to the side at that, listening to the other man's explanation, now closer to the truth than he might have otherwise admitted to before, with the pressing he had done.

"You resent the fact that young and inexperienced as she is, she is awarded this position when your own was won through much harder efforts," he observes. He fights back the urge to point out that Norrell just isn't maiden material, no matter how much he might covet the position himself, but it might not exactly go over well. Especially when there is some of the crux of the matter as well -- that there is not a similar position for Norrell to be awarded, as a male witch. How terribly unfair he must think it all is.

[hurtfew]

"She is still in school!" he exclaims, "she has little experience! What does she have to offer the world of magic? I have studied it all my life! I have put effort into collecting books, into driving myself to be better! She is arrogant enough to think she knows better about things she has never even studied! How am I suppose to deal with such a person being Maiden?"

Someone he has to answer to, as High Priest! A girl who has openly laughed at him! The very thought of it it makes his stomach turn. He will not be mocked and made a fool of!

The Maiden Not-So-Fair

[occultdisciple]

"I don't advise crossing a Widdowson," Coward murmured politely as he moved across the office, studying the books on the shelf. "She likely won't be a problem in six months. A year at most. Then? You'll play the mourner at her funeral, and things will go back to normal."

But he doesn't say it like he's planning anything. He has no intention of harming the girl, no, but he knows the Widdowson family. He remembers the one during his tenure on the Night Council himself. The man had been interesting enough. Smart, even clever. But a Widdowson. And, thus, short lived.

[hurtfew]

"Six months is a long time," Norrell counters, and his agitation is clear. "Look at how much we have achieved in a short time ourselves. No, no I do not like it.It sets a bad precedent, to have a Midnight Witch as a Maiden! Next she will be wanting more things! A chance at more representation, a seat on the Night Council! I have seen her, you know, coming back and forth from the headquarters! She is plotting something. She cannot be trusted. Even her attempt at an alliance with the fae -- treachery. She told me herself she would not help them even if she took territory from them. I have no doubt she will turn on them. Turn on everyone. Widdowsons are not to be trusted."

He shifts in his chair, lips flicking into a sneer of disgust as he settles deeper into it and scowls across the room at the very idea of Abigail.

[occultdisciple]

"Of course Widdowsons aren't to be trusted. But everything around them is cursed. She'll bring her own downfall, but be careful. I don't want to see you make a martyr of her."

Because a young, pretty girl. If the Night Council strikes her down, Midnight will only rally. Which, well. Might be his ultimate goal. But he doesn't trust a Widdowson at the head of Midnight. That can only end badly.

Worse than Lord Blackwood.

[hurtfew]

Of course, Coward has a point. To bring down Abigail would be to risk making a martyr of her, to make them into something to be struggled harder against and her evidence of all their wrongdoing. He lets out a heavy sigh, resigned to this, although his expression still twitches in a slight sneer of disgust.

"Widdowsons," he repeats, as the name itself is a curse to be uttered. "What would you have me do?"

After all, that is the kind of man Norrell is. One who cannot make a decision on his own, one who must solicit opinion and wring his hands over every possibility. Coward, in contrast, is terribly assured of himself. The perfect candidate to ask for advice.

[occultdisciple]

"Let her hang herself," Colin murmurs, tilting his head a bit. His lips curl into a slight smirk. "Give her the rope. Let her speak. Let her have her attention. She'll make a wrong step and she'll fall. Without you needing to do a thing."

He offers a slow nod.

"Widdowsons are the greatest architects of their own destruction."

[hurtfew]

"And if she does not? If we are wrong, and she she overturns all we have done? Us included?"

There is the hint of fear in how Norrell asks it, but also something in him that is desperate for reassurance from Coward. For him to tell him that it will all be fine, that there is no threat to worry about. Even though, in truth, Norrell will still worry regardless. To hear it said still soothes even if he does not believe it.

[occultdisciple]

"She is a Widdowson," Coward murmurs with a shrug. To him, that's all that matters. Widdowsons die, and they do not succeed. The curse takes care of them easily enough. If she becomes a real threat, you can deal with her then."

Inwardly, he can't help but be pleased to hear how much Norrell asks for reassurance. It makes for a more pliant 'ally.' And might give him an in to help with his goal of seeing the Night Council himself. First, he has to convince Millicent, though.

[hurtfew]

Norrell sighs unhappily, shoots Coward a last unhappy look before turning hit attention back to his papers.

"Your help in Croydon was noted and appreciated," he says finally, shuffling through things. "I have heard a rumour you hope to expand your own territories?"

He lifts his eyes to Coward, lofts an eyebrow questioningly.