"Transformation" for Writers Muses
Even the most loyal dog looks out the gate and remembers that it’s ancestors ran free.
-Fae Proverb (roughly translated)
There was a time in Mab’s youth when duty was a four letter word. When she was no more reliable than a snowflake in the wind. It was the easiest time of her long life and the most empty. The only person she cared for in that time was herself. That period of time contained a Mab who was both more and less than what she was to become. Completely free and utterly without obligation to anyone other than her whims. Completely without value beyond her beauty and the power that she turned on others more often than used to help the. A time spent as a force of nature that did not know what love was and did not care.
There was a time in her middle age when Mab began to care for her people like her own children. Transitioning from the selfish violent being who cared nothing of politics to the center of a well oiled machine, or as close as the Unseelie could become, was not easy. The act of ruling requires one to be reliable, dependable, in a way completely contrary to her earlier and more simple nature. Given time and a purpose, she gradually forced herself to make these aspects part of her nature. Fae are beings changed by what they believe about themselves. This gave her the ability to gain a new purpose and value. In this process, her spare time became her only freedom. The time when she could return to selfishness.
There was a time in her older ages when Mab chose to adopt a child who needed a mother as badly as she had needed a son. She took on the obligation and thought it would not change her, not deeply. Contrary to her original thought, it changed her greatly. Left her a person who could become a wife again. Not as she was in the travesty of a marriage that cost her time and self. Someone faithful, someone who maintained a home. In doing so, she became a mother again, and again, and again. Stepchildren, adopted, blood. The reality of it settled in easily many times, left her content in herself. Except when she asked herself if there was any freedom left for her.
Maybe if the man Mab loved and she herself were not so easily pushed near to the point of throwing everything away. But they could not help it. Neither of them was good enough at making a connection of love and marriage truly stable. Too much pushing between them both. Maybe she would let herself let go of that freedom and not long for it. Quiet recuperation and the love of her children would have tamed the inner wildness. Mab wished that it would. But it wasn’t quite enough. Not yet. She wanted it to be, so badly. But the wildness always sang in the two quiet hours.
Within her own little world of house and home and court, Mab sought to rebel against the things that left her longing for the freedom and selfishness. Looked to her husband hoping he would look back at her like a lover. When she was lucky, he did. It was different than when he looked at her for his salvation, his rock. Rarer, more precious when she needed it. When it wasn’t there, she played sharper games with those around her. Was sharper in general. Wished someone was there to chase the wildness away so it could not haunt her. Failing that, someone who could make her celebrate it. Counted herself a fool for it all.
A fae in her heart is wildness, madness, and magic. Bind it in home and family and honor and duty, bind it so she can scarcely breath. She may grow to fit it like bonsai or bound feet. Let her look to you as reliable as the dog that guards the hearth. She’ll still know what she is, what she could be and long for it. Should she stop, she might as well be naught but human.
Mab will die before she comes human.
-Fae Proverb (roughly translated)
There was a time in Mab’s youth when duty was a four letter word. When she was no more reliable than a snowflake in the wind. It was the easiest time of her long life and the most empty. The only person she cared for in that time was herself. That period of time contained a Mab who was both more and less than what she was to become. Completely free and utterly without obligation to anyone other than her whims. Completely without value beyond her beauty and the power that she turned on others more often than used to help the. A time spent as a force of nature that did not know what love was and did not care.
There was a time in her middle age when Mab began to care for her people like her own children. Transitioning from the selfish violent being who cared nothing of politics to the center of a well oiled machine, or as close as the Unseelie could become, was not easy. The act of ruling requires one to be reliable, dependable, in a way completely contrary to her earlier and more simple nature. Given time and a purpose, she gradually forced herself to make these aspects part of her nature. Fae are beings changed by what they believe about themselves. This gave her the ability to gain a new purpose and value. In this process, her spare time became her only freedom. The time when she could return to selfishness.
There was a time in her older ages when Mab chose to adopt a child who needed a mother as badly as she had needed a son. She took on the obligation and thought it would not change her, not deeply. Contrary to her original thought, it changed her greatly. Left her a person who could become a wife again. Not as she was in the travesty of a marriage that cost her time and self. Someone faithful, someone who maintained a home. In doing so, she became a mother again, and again, and again. Stepchildren, adopted, blood. The reality of it settled in easily many times, left her content in herself. Except when she asked herself if there was any freedom left for her.
Maybe if the man Mab loved and she herself were not so easily pushed near to the point of throwing everything away. But they could not help it. Neither of them was good enough at making a connection of love and marriage truly stable. Too much pushing between them both. Maybe she would let herself let go of that freedom and not long for it. Quiet recuperation and the love of her children would have tamed the inner wildness. Mab wished that it would. But it wasn’t quite enough. Not yet. She wanted it to be, so badly. But the wildness always sang in the two quiet hours.
Within her own little world of house and home and court, Mab sought to rebel against the things that left her longing for the freedom and selfishness. Looked to her husband hoping he would look back at her like a lover. When she was lucky, he did. It was different than when he looked at her for his salvation, his rock. Rarer, more precious when she needed it. When it wasn’t there, she played sharper games with those around her. Was sharper in general. Wished someone was there to chase the wildness away so it could not haunt her. Failing that, someone who could make her celebrate it. Counted herself a fool for it all.
A fae in her heart is wildness, madness, and magic. Bind it in home and family and honor and duty, bind it so she can scarcely breath. She may grow to fit it like bonsai or bound feet. Let her look to you as reliable as the dog that guards the hearth. She’ll still know what she is, what she could be and long for it. Should she stop, she might as well be naught but human.
Mab will die before she comes human.