Masque Prep Fanfic: Petrea nó Cereus

spools of thread and sewing scissorsPetrea nó Cereus stood in front of the full length mirror as an adept of Eglantine House busied himself around her with fabric and bric-a-brac, sketching and stitching the beginnings of her costume for this year’s Midwinter Masque.  She frowned at the mirror, unhappy with her reflection.  She was getting on in the years, the beauty of her youth seeming to fade faster and faster every day.  But wasn’t that almost the point of Cereus House – for one’s beauty to fade?  How was that supposed to be something to be admired?   Petrea sighed.  How had she ever risen to Second of the most glorious and noble House of the Night Court with thoughts like that?

Outside the room, Petrea could hear adepts gossiping in low tones.  Of course, no one could stop talking about the affair between the Dauphin and Odilia nó Dahlia, and certainly not in the Night Court.  The mood in Cereus House seemed to be one of the biggest topics of discussion and whether or not the Prince choosing a Dahlia was seen as a slight to the oldest and most noble House.  Petrea shook her head and absently stroked the Eglantine adept’s head.  Did people really think that the Prince had purposely fallen in love with Odilia out of spite?  The social politics of the Night Court – and noble Court, for that matter – drove her practically to madness at times.  But gossip as thou wilt was practically a second tenet of the City, so she could not ignore it, lest she look foolish to her patrons and bring dishonor to her House.  

Turning her thoughts back to the grand plans for the Masque, Petrea reminded herself to make sure her private invitations had been delivered.  The position of Second did allow her certain privileges and she didn’t hesitate to take advantage of them when it suited her.  It had been a difficult year and she planned to enjoy every moment of the Longest Night.

Read the story of our Masque here and submit your fanfic story.

Masque Prep Fanfic: Aliksandria nó Cereus

“I am Aliksandria nó Cereus, Dowayne of Cereus House.”  I repeated this to myself again.

I looked around the hall at the members of the City Judiciary. The magistrate, the leaders of the trade guilds, and representatives of the nobility. I had been Dowayne for five years, and I still felt I was play acting at leadership. I could list the reasons I had been chosen to this role, the steps of the ladder I had climbed to reach this seat and, yet, I felt an imposter still. I feared I would always feel this way.

My predecessor had warned me about this part of the job. He had told me that the Night Court’s seat on the Judiciary was always in jeopardy and that the guild leaders would look for any way to oust us. He had also told me that this had been the way of it for hundreds of years, and that they have never succeeded. But I don’t think he could have prepared me for this.

The guild leaders had spent the bulk of this session railing about how the Night Court held unfair advantage by holding both the seat in the Judiciary and our seat on the Council of Religious Orders. In truth, it was a tired argument that I had heard since I was Dowayne’s Second, and had been old even then. They then shifted their argument to one of undue influence, again an oft used argument due to our history of giving counsel to members of the nobility, including house royal. This argument was, however, made more poignant due to the Dauphin’s current tryst with Odilia.

“We, the leaders of the trade guilds, put forth that while one or the other advantage might be overlooked, the occurrence of both cannot,” stated the leader of the silversmiths guild, a Monsieur Jacques Halceaux. “The trade guilds put forth that the Night Court must cease to give counsel and succor to the Scions of House Courcel, specifically and most urgently, ending the affair of the Dauphin and the adept of Dahlia House.”

The magistrate weighted the words carefully before turning to me:  “How does the representative from the Court of the Night Blooming Flowers respond?”

I took a deep breath.

I am Aliksandria nó Cereus, Dowayne of Cereus House,” I reminded myself.

“The Night Court is not in the practice of refusing to conduct business with members of noble houses so long as guild law is enforced and heresy does not occur. Furthermore, while I am a representative of the Night Court in this Judiciary, I am not its de facto leader and cannot dictate to other Dowaynes. As to the relationship between Odilia nó Dahlia and the Dauphin Gustav de la Courcel, it is not within the Night Court’s purview to sanction or forbid this union, as her marque has been made and he has reached his majority.”

This appeared to be the response Monseiur Halceaux had hoped for, as a triumphant smile flashed across his face. “If that is the Night Court’s response, than we put forth that its seat on the Judiciary is forfeit.”

The Magistrate raised his hand, “The leader of the silversmith’s guild is reminded that such an action would require a discretionary period and a vote by two thirds of the members of this body.” He then turned to me, “My Lady Dowayne, I recommend you bring this issue to your fellow Dowaynes and discuss amongst your guild how you wish to proceed. We await your final word on the matter when we reconvene after the Longest Night.”

The Longest Night.

scrollwork

Read the story of our Masque here and submit your fanfic story.

Masque Prep Fanfic: Eirini nó Gentian

“Stay still, Corinne,” Eirini nó Gentian tried to sound firm even through her smile as the young adept squirmed with excitement, “If I stab you with this hair pin, guess whose fault it is.”

“I’m sorry,” Corinne tried to sit still, “It’s just….my first Midwinter Masque!  Eirini, I’m so excited!”

“I know,” the Dowayne said with a patient smile, remembering how excited she had been for her first Masque years ago.  She secured the last part of the intricate hairstyle and shooed the girl away, “Go find Eva for final checks.”

The adept curtsied and left, closing the door to the Dowayne’s apartments silently behind her.  Finally alone, finally with the time to prepare herself, Eirini nó Gentian sat behind her desk, poured herself a cup of tea, and took a moment to breathe.  The awareness of the breath was the first thing Gentians learned upon arriving in the House, for it was the foundation of life and the basis for all meditation and trance-work.  She breathed, in and out, and it was only too easy to close her eyes and sink into the meditative state she had been resisting all day.  It was Midwinter, the shortest day of the year and the longest night.  It was a tipping point between dark and light, winter into spring, night into day.  It was a sacred and magical day.  And there was much riding on this day and the Masque this night.  

Eirini had heard the news, heard the gossip in her dreams and in the salon as well. The young Dauphin, the new Crown Prince Gustav de la Courcel, would be standing Cassiel’s Vigil tonight, not attending any of the fetes throughout the city, not in the Royal Palace and not in Cereus House.  But lest his absence be considered an insult or offence, he had chosen a representative to send in his place.  His Official Companion would be attending the fete at the Palace, playing nice with the court and courtiers.  But to the Court of Night Blooming Flowers, the Dauphin had chosen to send a Dahlia. A deliberate slight?  An innocent action?  After the unrest and the loss that had gripped the nation at the beginning of the year and changed everything, there was too much riding on this night to risk entering Cereus House unprepared.  

So Eirini reached for her deck.  Six cards, arranged around the teapot still steaming on her desk.  Six cards, turned over one at a time.  Six cards, each whispering in her mind, trying to give their wisdom and warnings.  The spread had become a vine, a single stalk with two unfurling branches, a single momentous choice with two potentials revealed.

Tarot Card Spread

The Wheel of Fortune and the Fool warned the Gentian about grand changes, changes that the country may not be fully prepared for.  The right branch spiralled from the Lovers reversed into the upright Seven of Cups.  Shallow intimacy and lack of deep and true connection that would lead to dreams impossible to achieve and a time of stagnation for Terre d’Ange. The left branch rose from the Fool, through the upright Two of Cups to end at the Devil reversed.  Connection and communication and community would bring freedom and a Terre d’Ange in control of their own fate.  

Eirini sat back in her chair.  She reached for a flask from one of her desk drawers and spiked her tea.  She would need it.  

“Joie to us all,” she muttered.

Schedule of Weekend Events

We’re thrilled about all of the events coming up in just a few days! Here’s a complete rundown of the weekend, along with links to purchase tickets to those events you might still be interested in attending.

eglantine flower

  • Friday, January 3, 2020
  • Saturday, January 4, 2020
    • 9am – 12:30pm: Discussion Groups (purchase individually or in packages for a discount) – conference rooms
    • 6pm: Dungeon Introduction (for all General Admission ticket holders who have checked in to the Masque) – Virginia suites
    • 7pm – 1am: The Masque Ball -Commonwealth Ballroom
      • 7:15pm: Processional of the Court of the Night Blooming Flowers
      • Midnight: Enactment of the Marriage of the Winter Queen to the Sun Prince
    • 8pm – midnight: Dungeon open for presale ticket holders – Virginia suites
    • 9pm – midnight: Dungeon open for same day ticket holders – Virginia suites
  • Sunday, January 5, 2020
    • 8am – noon: Brunch – Dominion room

We can’t wait to see you for the Masque weekend!

Same Day Dungeon Tickets for the Kink-Curious

If you’re curious about the dungeon, but not totally sure about it, don’t worry.  This year, you can scope out the Dungeon and then decide to buy a ticket on the day of the Masque.

Our Dungeon Introduction will take place at 6pm on Saturday evening and is open to all ticket holders who have already checked in to the Masque.  Same Day Dungeon Tickets are $25 and will give you access to the Dungeon 9pm – midnight.  Holders of Presale Dungeon Tickets have access to the Dungeon 8pm – midnight.  These Same Day tickets can only be purchased at Masque Check In and only after the end of the Dungeon Introduction.

So if the Kushiel’s Legacy is your first foray into the world of the “sharper pleasures,” check out our Dungeon, meet our DMs (Dungeon Monitors), and then decide if you want this limited access ticket.

If you have questions or concerns ahead of time, please feel free to email dungeon@thelongestnightmasque.com and our crack team of “dungeoneers” will be happy to help you out.

 

A poem for your beloved

“O, dear my lord…
Let this breast on which you have lent
As close in love as a foe in battle,”

~Jacqueline Carey, Kushiel’s Dart

 

These words, written by Anafiel Delaunay to his secret lover Prince Rolande de la Courcel, begin the poem “Antinous’ Ode to His Beloved.”  The ode, once proscribed in Terre d’Ange, was later to be lauded and performed by the royal poet Thelesis de Mornay, shouted and whispered by besotted admirers to woo their beloved.

Now, it’s your turn – woo or declare your love with a special gift.  Our own Eva nó Gentian will compose a unique poem for your beloved, to be presented to them in written or spoken form at the Longest Night Midwinter Masque*.

 

Choose from a two (2), four (4), or six (6) line verse, each with the following options:

  • Recited for your beloved at the Longest Night Midwinter Masque, January 4, 2020 (specific time TBD)
  • Written on beautiful 11″ x17″ high quality paper, suitable for display, presented to your beloved at the Longest Night Midwinter Masque, January 4, 2020
  • Both recited and written

Prices are as follows:

  • Two (2) lines
    • Recited – $5
    • Written – $10
    • Both – $13
  • Four (4) lines
    • Recited – $10
    • Written – $15
    • Both – $23
  • Six (6) lines
    • Recited – $15
    • Written – $20
    • Both – $34

To purchase your poem, please email poet@thelongestnightmasque.com and specify your options.  You will be provided with a payment link.  Once your payment has been processed, the poet will begin composing your verse.

*Note: if you are not attending the Masque, we can arrange for shipping of a written poem to your home.

 

Dahlia’s Grand Château

On Mont Nuit, just south of Cereus House, is a grand château that serves as home to House Dahlia. With a motto of “Upright and Unbending,” adepts of this house exemplify the poise, dignity and commanding presence one would expect to find in the palace at the heart of D’Angeline politics. Sometimes accused of being haughty, Dahlia adepts instead are skilled at the games of courtship, the wildly contained flirtation, teasing, and bantering that drive D’Angeline love and ambition.

dahlia flowerDahlia, unlike any other house, is a crafted blend of many of the qualities of other houses. Dahlias can be as steely and delicate as Cereus house, as perfect and pristine as Camellia, as sensual and teasing as Jasmine or as competitive and calculating as Bryony. In Dahlia lore, Naamah bestowed herself as a Queen in her seduction of the King of Persis. Thus, Dahlia adepts project an air of aloof consideration and passionately cool action. Patrons pay for access to a nightly audience with House Dahlia, a chance to be chosen – some patrons are luckier with others and some come just to enjoy the atmosphere. 

Upon entering through the stone and iron gates of the grounds, patrons are treated to the immaculate and sumptuous grounds, complete with hedge mazes, gardens, and fountains. Patrons are greeted by guards in royal blue livery and escorted into the heart of the house. 

The hallways are lined with tasteful mosaics of Naamah and Eula’s companionship framed by the deep richness of velvet curtains. The grand hall, where the Dahlias gather each night to mingle with patrons, is decorated as finely as the palace in the City of Elua.  And all Dahlias are in attendance at the nightly salon, from the little novices all the way up to the full adepts. Dahlia believes that in order to learn the elegance and poise required of the Kings and Queens of the Night Court, the novices must learn by example and watch the dance of the Dahlia salon. 

Novices in Dahlia livery make the rounds with trays of refreshment, watching with eyes already haughty with the knowledge of their future marque as the adepts on their personal chairs entertain their personal courts. Living statues line the walls of the salon, the more mature novices close to graduating, painted gold and training themselves to be aloof and beautiful and untouchably desirable by decorating the salon with their own bodies.  Each of their niches has a plinth on which they stand, the fluttering chiffon curtains hiding and teasing at their graceful limbs.  

Candelabras with tall candles cast dancing light upon carefully placed mirrors that set the entire salon aglow.  The rich jewel tones of the upholstery bathed in a golden light, imposing chairs of exquisitely carved dark wood seem gentler in the soft light, and the black and white checkered marble floor gleams in the central floor around which everything is arranged.  

This checkered floor is the subject of one of Dahlia House’s most famous and scintillating seductions.  After the dances have completed, stately pavanes and leaping galliards and risque lavoltas leaving the patrons breathless and the adepts enlivened, after the patrons have approached their chosen Dahlia with due reverence on bended knee, after the adepts have listened to the flattery and accepted gifts with cool smiles and haughty eyes, a Dahlia rises from her imposing chair.  Her dark hair shines under the candlelight, her dark eyes glitter, and her low voice calls, “My dear Jocaste, I have been challenged to a game.”

The Dahlia Dowayne, a beautiful woman with striking streaks of silver through her hair, gestures to the checkered floor with one elegant hand, “Do us proud, my Second.”

Odilia nó Dahlia claps her hands and the statues come to life, arranging themselves upon the dance floor that has become a chess board with living pieces.  Her patron, a look of hungry delight on his face, takes his place along his side of the board and the game begins.  

The appeal of Dahlia is evident in the game.  She sits her throne, commanding her pieces, watching her opponent for any moment of weakness.  And he, caught in the Dahlia’s gaze, thrills at her attention, at the thought that perhaps he could be her equal for the night.  As the game progresses, she rises, pacing her side of the board as the adept falls away and the politician and strategist comes to the forefront.  Her skirts whisper on the marble floor, a predatory gleam in her eye and her patron calls for a drink to slake his thirst. And when she finally makes her way to where he sits, he is frozen as she approaches.  She makes her last move and murmurs, low and proud, “Checkmate.” And he kneels.  

Visitors to House Dahlia understand that adepts set their own terms, their own price, with the approval of the Dowayne. Patrons play the games of flattery, seduction, and intrigue to gain entry to the bedchamber of a Dahlia adept. Patrons pledge themselves to their chosen adept forming their own little courts. The horologist’s voice marks the hours and the arrival of guests and patrons. Each adept takes turns commanding the events of the Great Hall through the evening, with the stunning and sly Second taking control over the twilight and the Dowayne commanding through the midnight as adepts and patrons retire back to their private salons. 

Dahlia adepts respond to talent, wit, and boldness in all its forms but are quick to see through arrogance and deception. And each fancies something different. As an adept, our Dowyane always showed a preference for poets over financiers, yet her Dowyane would only ever choose older, silver-haired courtiers. Thus, Patrons want to stand out, to be noticed and admired in order to gain the attention and the most private of audiences with their chosen. Games of skill and chance often make their way through the little courts as the night progresses, some more daring than others. An adept chooses their patron for the night in their own time, commanding their own terms, inviting them behind the curtains into their private bed chambers. 

From there the service is as varied as the patrons’ desires. Yes, many who come to Dahlia derive their pleasure from serving – and thus Dahlia’s learn how to receive as well as give. Touches of Mandrake and Valerian sometimes also make up the delicate balance of fortitude and grace that is a Dahlia. Likewise, some patrons come to play at nobility, to dabble in the court politics that their everyday rank denies them. And then there are those who come to conquer, to break through the walls and partake of what wonders await on the other side. 

Though it is true that most patrons will never witness a Dahlia’s true face, most patrons walk away with a deeper experience of pride.. Trained to the service of Naamah at such a young age, Dahlias learn how to hide their true selves, just as the scions of Elua must. Dahlias aspire to be the crown jewel of Namaah’s arts, to only show the facets and shine that can enchant, divert and command. Adaptable and yet implacable, Dahlias always find a way to get what they want, whether it be the fat jewels in a patron’s purse or an invitation to palace fetes, the more rare patron gifts. 

And yet the gift the patron receives, as reflected in the many facets of House Dahlia, is one of the more precious gifts Naamah’s servants can offer: confidence and pride in one’s own inherent desirability and worth.

The Joy of Laughter at Orchis House

“Take your happiness where you find it, children, and don’t ask too many questions. Life is too short and uncertain to do otherwise.” – Deccus Fulvius, Kushiel’s Scion

 

orchis flowerIn Terre d’Ange, the highest commandment is to “Love as Thou Wilt”.  Of course, this can be interpreted in many ways.  Some of us love friends and family, in the everyday mundane tasks that such an endeavor requires.  Some of us love money and all the privileges that brings us.  We can love and strive for justice, knowledge, the healing of others, the beauty of art, timeless perfection, pride, strength, or desire.  There is no requirement to love only one or even only of few of these attributes.  Of all of the loves, we at House Orchis remind that there is one that we often neglect, love of ourselves.  I contend that joy and laughter is no less than to do anything for the love of ourselves.

We at Orchis think the best time for joy and laughter is at this moment and for every moment.  We laugh through failures and successes alike.  We laugh through joys and sorrows.  We find joy in meetings and in partings.  We can dance like no one is watching, sing like no one is listening and enjoy it all the while.  We can love ourselves exactly as we are. We can find the fun in all facets of life.  It is restorative to the soul.

On the Longest Night, may we find joy and laugh in the company of each other.  Joie to you on the Longest Night!

The Poetry of Mandrake House

mandrake poemCatching my stare from across the room

You shudder in anticipation

Breath heavy, heartbeat rapid

You know what you’re in for

 

Drinking in every inch of you

I stare, lascivious and rapt

Pulse quickens, mind calculating

I know what you’re in for

 

Wrists up, eyes averted

You instinctively kneel before me

Ready to serve

I accept

 

Wrists cuffed, neck collared

I bind you to my servitude

Ready to command

You accept

 

Whips and floggers flick and arouse

Leaving red kisses on your bare skin

I hold the secrets of their power

Will it be pleasure or discipline?

 

My leather rustles, your chains shine

Yield, obey, for now you’re mine

 

A shadow whispers beyond

The blindfold stretches taut

Across a forbidden gaze

Commanding hands brush over

 

Blueblack bruises blossoming

upon yearning skin

Silhouettes of desire dance

across flagellated flesh, framed

By flushed cheeks and parted lips

 

Scarlet motes we hold dear

Modesty has no home here

 

Feeling adrift or seeking renewal?

Surrender to Mandrake House

For “Love is hard, harder than

steel and thrice as cruel”