The Maiden Anointed [semi-closed] [majorly backdated to March 1]

[acrookedchild]

"For five years, I have been the Maiden of Witches," Katherine Terrance, the former holder of the title, said with a soft smile. There might even have been some pride in it, though she was trying to hide that. After all, no one was supposed to be pleased that someone from Circle Midnight had been meant for this position. "Now, the time has come to step down and let another take my place."

Beside her stood Abigail Widdowson, dressed in a modest white dress that made her look remarkably more pale, almost like she was dressed for her own burial. The impression wasn't lost on her, either.

They were deep in Daybreak territory, overlooking the Thames from Wandsworth. The building was meant for ceremonies like this and large gatherings of a group of covens. Now, it was for this, with all witches invited to witness the making of a new Maiden, as she was to serve both Circles. To stand for all of them.

"I was told when I took the role that I would know when the time had come to step down, and I was told that I would know who to hand this mantle to. You are never given more than you can bear, the Maiden before me said. Now, I pass those words on to you."

Abigail knelt down on a pale blue pillow and bowed her head politely.

"I ask three questions of you," Katherine said with all due solemnity.

"I will answer," replied Abigail.

"Will you serve as the Maiden of Circle Midnight?"

"I shall."

"Will you serve as the Maiden of Circle Daybreak?"

"I shall."

"Will you serve as the Maiden of all Witches?"

"I shall."

"Then let it be known, that you, Abigail Widdowson, stand as Maiden of Witches. Part of the trinity that holds together all our sisters: the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone. From this day on, you are an example to us all. And you will be watched."

Katherine picked up a small silver urn and poured a few drops of the scented oil onto Abigail's forehead. She bowed her head, then, and rose of her own power. Katherine offered no hand, and Abigail sought none. She stood straight, took a deep breath, then nodded to Katherine. The former Maiden responded by bowing her head to kiss the spot on Abigail's head where the oil was placed before she stepped away. Then, Abigail took the few steps down from the dais.

Under her own volition, she'd have scurried away. But she had cause to mingle. So, she would.


(Open to all witches!)

Comments

[acrookedchild]

"Mister Norrell. Thank you for coming."

She says it with as much sweetness and sincerity as she can truly muster. It might well sound a little lacking and more than a bit unsure, but it's offered nonetheless and offered willingly. She offers her hands to take one or both of his, as appropriate.

She's watched Katherine, after all, and that's how she always does it. So, she will try to adopt the mannerism.

[hurtfew]

He looks faintly uncomfortable as she offers him her hands. By and large witch communities are an entirely feminine thing of late, and Gilbert Norrell is a man not comfortable enough with himself to handle such things easily. That, and the gesture -- and sweetness -- is not something he at all associates with Abigail Widdowson.

They are both playing a part now, he supposes. How things can change!

"Miss Widdowson," he says simply in answer, and takes her hands for a half second to clasp. He was tempted not to -- he dislikes all this touching! -- but felt oddly conspicuous doing so. "Congratulations on your appointment."

That is the thing to say, he thinks, even if one is not pleased by it. Childermass would tell him to say it.

[acrookedchild]

"Thank you," she replies with a gracious bow of her head. After all, she has a part to play as well, and she can almost feel Unthank watching her. In fact, she even tries to steal a glance around, expecting to see--

What? He might not have even been able to come. There might be wards to keep any and all who aren't witches away. But she can almost feel his hand on her shoulder.

Which sends a chill rushing down her spine the moment she thinks it. For all Unthank is a protector, she knows something of the sinister side, too. After all, even after Sir Roderick, the house's bloody history didn't stop. Not until that sort of thing went well out fo fashion. Which was far too long.

"I hope to serve all aspects of our community to the best of my abilities."

[hurtfew]

He picks up on her faint unease, finding himself glancing around slightly for what she might be looking for a moment before offering her a thin (and now slightly distracted smile).

Norrell himself is already prone to paranoia, she has just accidentally prickled his.

"I am sure it will be an interesting time for both Circles," he adds. "There will be much to discuss."

Which they have already begun, uncomfortably.

[acrookedchild]

"'May you live in interesting times,' the curse goes, I believe," Abigail replies with a faint smile.

And they have both, now, lived to fulfill just that. Because she feels this is the sort of situation that saying always applies to. Times of great change, for good and ill. Dangerous for them both. But they don't need to be enemies.

...Or so she'll keep telling herself.

"We just must make sure to discuss it. All of us."

[hurtfew]

"Of course," Norrell allows, "although the next few months will be busy. The elections, you understand."

Which in truth will keep him busy, but also offer a surprisingly good excuse if he needs to dodge a meeting with Abigail should she prove too much of an irritation. It's a given that he will defend his seat at this point, but he hasn't forgotten how she snooped around the Night Council headquarters. Her lunches. Abigail herself may end up a threat to him in this election if he hasn't careful.

[acrookedchild]

"Of course. I would wish you well, naturally, but as I and my Circle have no say, I'm afraid it would be worth nothing."

Not that she'd vote for him. And, perhaps, her smile says it. But it's still a remark. A reminder that she has no power here, and she will admit it. Because she wants it. Wants that voice.

And she will find a way to be heard.

[hurtfew]

Perhaps Abigail underestimates herself in that. To Norrell she is still a threat, for Norrell's reputation is everything. If Abigail chose to be spiteful she could well make his campaign difficult even without the power of a vote.

He matches her smile, if a little forced.

"You represent both Circles now," he reminds her, "and one of those Circles does have a vote."

[acrookedchild]

A point she had not considered, but it is true. She is as much between the Circles as Sylvia is. Which does give her a vote. Perhaps. That depends entirely on what loopholes Mother still has in store.

"You make an excellent point, sir. That will take some getting used to for us all, I think."

[hurtfew]

Norrell nods fractionally, agreeing if a little unhappily.

"You have taken a position where people look to you, Miss Widdowson. Where they will listen. Remember that, and remember there will be consequences always for everyone -- in the short term and the long. You speak for more than just your own coven now, and what you do will affect everyone."

[acrookedchild]

"Of that I am painfully aware."

And it tastes bitter in her mouth, like truth serum forced down her throat all over again. But now isn't the time for such thoughts.

"I will make my decision carefully. That, I can promise."