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A Conversation in the Yellow Drawing-Room, chapter 5
Title: A Conversation in the Yellow Drawing-Room, And Other Letters To Mrs Strange
Fandom: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell
Genre Drama
Rating: Teen and up
Characters: Emma Pole, John Childermass, John Segundus, Stephen Black
Pairings: Emma Pole/John Childermass
Chapters: 5/6
Words: 2451
Summary: Lady Pole writes a letter to her friend Mrs Strange about an unexpected encounter.
The whole fic on AO3
Dear Arabella,
Much has happened since my last letter though not much more time than a day has passed. But don’t fret, once again I am writing from the safety of my room, even if recent events have not lacked excitement. And I have news for you, but I won’t say more until the end of the letter. I’m not above holding out the suspense for a few more pages, though I suppose nothing can stop you from reading the end first. But please don’t, my dear, let me tell you my story in the right order.
As you know Messrs Childermass, Segundus and Honeyfoot had arrived, and I was eager to see them. When I walked downstairs, I realised Mr Childermass had not demanded an explanation last night, though he knew only a little of what had happened and I know he has a curious mind. I vastly appreciated his consideration to my distressed state, but it made me even more eager to explain myself.
I had rightly supposed Mr Childermass had told the others of the night, and I quickly explained what had happened in the previous days. I then acquainted them with my theory of what could free me from my enchantment. I was finally ready to tell them, and now also you.
I found my idea in a fairy tale where a princess had been enchanted into the shape of a large snake. What broke the spell was three baths, one filled with wine, one with milk and one with water, and it struck me it could work for my predicament. I have no skins to shed, but it is an enchantment which seems to cling to my body. It’s a magical residue which lingers to my person, and the more I thought about it, the more it made sense it was something I could wash off. And, though I hated the very thought, I strongly felt I needed to go back to Lost-Hope as the first step toward my freedom. I can’t explain why, but the feeling only grew and would not be dispelled. This also meant I had to travel on the King’s Road, which I did not know how to open myself. For that, I needed help from my friends.
I was sure protests would meet my theory, and it was; both Mr Segundus and Mr Honeyfoot were very vocal over how bad they thought my idea was. Well, perhaps not my idea as such, but the way I proposed to act; by going on my own. But Mr Childermass said nothing. He only crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, waiting for me to finish.
“My friends,” I said. “You have been my saviours, but now I must save myself. You may not like it, but I feel in my heart I’m the only one who can do this. But I still need your support and friendship, and I hope you will give it to me.”
There were more protests though more feeble, and in the end, I won them over.
I re-read what I have written here above, and it strikes me I sound calm and confident. But let me tell you, my dear friend, I was so scared it was only force of will which stopped me from breaking down. The idea I needed to return to Lost-Hope had been slow to form, and something I had struggled with for many weeks. It was my prison for so many years; host to so many of my miseries, and now I was to return there voluntarily. I can readily tell you the thought of going back made my heart beat fast and hard, and my mouth grew dry from sheer terror.
It was not, as I had both feared and hoped, difficult to open the road. I addressed my friends with instructions of what I needed on my return, but when I was about to step into the mirror, Mr Childermass was suddenly at my side.
“You need not go alone,” he said,
“It’s my undertaking.”
“I know. But it doesn’t have to mean you must walk in solitude. I propose to be your companion only, not your champion.”
I looked at him, and I saw it was not doubt of my abilities which made him give me the offer, and I was glad to have his company. I took his hand and stepped forward, into the mirror, the world changing around us. I cannot properly describe how it was to walk the King’s Road. I think it is different for any who set their feet there, and I’m not even sure Mr Childermass and I always saw the same things. We did not speak much, but I’m sure we were both afraid. To have Mr Childermass hand around mine was a comfort, and I believe he felt the same.
One thing I know we both saw. At one point we walked along the edge of a dense forest, and at a crossroads, we were hailed by a knight. He insisted we were to leave the road we were walking on and to come and fight him. At the sound of his voice, Mr Childermass stopped dead in his tracks. With a very peculiar look on his face, he touched the scar on his cheek, before urging me to walk on. The knight seemed unable to leave his own path, but as long as we could hear him he continued to call after us. I asked Mr Childermass if he was acquainted with this creature, and he said he believed he was, but did not embellish the story. I had in mind to ask more, but the odd mixture of contempt and pity on his face stopped me.
It is impossible to tell how time passed; perhaps we walked for days. (But when we returned, we had only been away for a scant half hour.) I can’t recall ever having to walk to Lost-Hope before, but I know it as soon as I saw it. The doors were unlocked before we could knock, swung open by two little girls. They were plump, pretty little things, but very pale, only the merest hint of yellow in their hair, blue in their eyes and the faintest of blushes on their cheeks and lips. They smiled at us with fish-sharp teeth and I realised they were my little beggar girls. It made me happy to see them so changed, and happy to know I was right, and there was no ill-will in them. They seemed delighted to see me, and took my hands, leading me into the castle, with Mr Childermass trailing behind. Lost-Hope is much changed now, so changed it could be another place with, every surface clean and polished. The windows had no cobwebs obscuring the glass, and every passage and room was brightly lit. It is now a pretty place, and it is clear Stephen has not been idle.
They brought us to a grand throne room, and not, I am grateful to say, to the ballroom where I spent so many years dancing. It was filled with people, and not all of them looked friendly, but I did not think much of it as I was eager to meet Stephen again. He sat on the throne and I would like to say he had not changed at all because he was always a man of great dignity, but one look told me he’s a king in truth now. My mother once nourished a dream I was to be presented at court. It was a dream destined to never be fulfilled, but she still hired a dance master to teach me the proper curtsey to greet a king. I never thought I would have any use for that knowledge, but now I curtsied deep, grateful for those lessons long ago. Mr Childermass bowed slightly, but with a respect I have never seen him show anyone before.
But Stephen stepped down from his throne and, took both of my hands and pulled me up. In his face I could see the same delight I felt to see my dear friend again. I am sure he, as well as I, have never thought we would meet again. He took us to an antechamber, away from his courtiers and seemed a little bit more like the old Stephen. He listened, quite gravely to my tale, and he nodded in agreement when it was ended.
“Yes, I can see the enchantment on you. I believe you have come to the right conclusion, and I will be happy to assist you.”
Accompanied by the little girls who seem to be Stephen’s personal attendants, we all went down into the wine cellars. I had never been there before; vast chambers filled with bottles and barrels. It was easy to arrange for a barrel to be opened, and with a small gesture, Stephen even conjured small steps for me to aid me. Only then did it struck me I might need to do something more, like a spell, but then I thought I should just follow my instinct and just step into the wine.
It suddenly seemed a ridiculous idea to immerse myself into a barrel of wine, but with as much dignity I could muster, and with Stephen offering his hand as support, I proceeded to my task with, I believe, some grace. The wine was neither hot nor cold, but it was not a pleasant affair to bathe in it. Especially since I needed to get my head under the surface too. I broke the surface with an unpleasant feeling I was getting wine into every crevice of my body. (I refrained to complain about it loudly, but I can mention it to you, dear.) And my dress was a mess! But I stepped out, dripping wet, red and sticky, and when I was standing on the floor again Mr Childermass pointed at the barrel.
“Look!”
We all looked, and there, just under the surface, we saw a shape looking just like myself. It looked solid at first glance, but under our very eyes, it dissolved and disappeared. And I felt different- lighter if you will, and I did not need Stephen and Mr Childermass reassurances that the enchantment had grown weaker to know it had worked.
We took our farewells quickly. I was sad because I had missed Stephen so much, and it would have been nice to spend some time with him again. I had so many questions about his new life, but I felt I need to remove my person from any magical surroundings as soon as possible. After all, I had come to get rid of an enchantment and not risk picking up a new one.
The road back did not look the same, and I was very grateful it also seemed to be shorter, as I was still very damp. Stephen had kindly offered to dry my clothes with a spell, but I declined for the same reason I wanted to leave as soon as possible. The look on Mr Segundus and Mr Honeyfoot face when I stepped out of the mirror almost made me laugh; but then I saw myself in it when the road closed, and I don’t believe I have ever looked more bedraggled in my life. And when Pampisford saw me she nearly fainted. My poor Pampisford; I fear she is not very happy with me at the moment! But despite this, she helped me undress and would have helped me into the bath too, if I had not sent her away. I don’t think she would have coped with more magic.
The milk bath was a much more pleasant experience than the one with wine, especially as there was plenty of warm water to rinse myself in after. And when I emerged from the milk, I could clearly see myself again, as a shed skin in the liquid, though this time it seemed less dense and it disappeared quickly.
The last bath was the hardest one. We agreed that nothing would do than a living stream, and luckily there is one only a mile from Rosehill. But although the day was warm, I knew the streaming water would be cold, and I never learned to swim.
Mr Childermass, very efficiently, took charge of preparing a carriage with fur throws and a foot stove. I would have preferred to go alone with him, but Mr Segundus and Honeyfoot were so keen to see the enchantment lifted that I could not deny them. I was also not keen to have another dress ruined even if I took care to take my oldest one this time. But needs must, and the thought I would soon be rid of this tiresome enchantment overshadowed any other feeling.
The water was as cold as I had feared; I trudged on until the water reached my waist. I could feel the water tugging at me, but not so hard I lost my footing. What was hardest was the bitter cold which had my teeth chattering in my mouth, but I steeled myself and dipped myself in the water. When I stood up, I could see the last version of myself, almost transparent now, float away in the streaming water. And I could feel it; something was gone though it is hard to say exactly what. A little it feels like I have carried a heavy burden for so long I was not aware of the weight, not until I no longer had to carry it.
When I stepped ashore Mr Childermass was there to wrap a fur around me, and I was grateful because by then my limbs felt frozen. He also had me drink several sips of brandy. I dislike the taste, but it helped to dispel some of the cold. But despite the precautions taken and the short trip back, I was still feeling very cold. I was feeling quite unwell when I stepped out of the carriage, and despite the hot bath Pampisford had waiting for me, I still feel it. In fact, I feel very odd; tired and with a headache growing that I fear I’m falling ill. In fact, I feel much worse now than when I first started to write this letter. Pampisford is hovering and is threatening to take my quill away of I don’t stop writing now. I shall obey her because I’m very tired, but I knew I couldn’t rest until I had told it all to you
And I am free, Arabella! I’m finally free of Lost-Hope. If I hadn’t this wretched headache, I would be very happy right now.
Your friend, Emma.
AN: I’m sure the idea of freeing someone from an enchantment by dipping them three times, can be found in several fairy tales, but my idea comes from a Swedish version of Cinderella. It’s quite different from other versions. Cinderella gets her ball clothes from a tree growing on her mother’s grave, and she goes to three balls, and her shoes are made of silver, gold and last of precious stones. And there is only one step-sister, who, when Cinderella gets the prince, makes up with Cinderella. It also doesn’t end with the wedding. In this story they get a child, and during a sea voyage the step-sister, who is really a witch, pushes Cinderella into the sea and enchants herself so she looks like Cinderella. Though no one notice the prince suddenly don’t feel happy anymore, the baby can’t stop crying and Cinderellas little dog tries to bite his mistress.
Back in the castle the nursemaid wakes up one night by the sound of chains and the real Cinderella, wet and chained, steps into the nursery. She kisses the baby and tells it she can only come twice more before she has to marry the sea goblin. Then the chains rattle and pulls her back into the water. The nursemaid tells the prince, who stays in the nursery the next night to see for himself. The next day he goes to a wise woman for help, and she instructs him to don a pair of iron gloves and prepare three baths with wine, milk and water, and to dip his wife. When the prince grabs Cinderella she transforms into a sea snake, but the prince manages to dip her, and for every dip, one of the snake’s skins fall of. After the last dip he has his Cinderella back and unenchanted.
Fandom: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell
Genre Drama
Rating: Teen and up
Characters: Emma Pole, John Childermass, John Segundus, Stephen Black
Pairings: Emma Pole/John Childermass
Chapters: 5/6
Words: 2451
Summary: Lady Pole writes a letter to her friend Mrs Strange about an unexpected encounter.
The whole fic on AO3
Dear Arabella,
Much has happened since my last letter though not much more time than a day has passed. But don’t fret, once again I am writing from the safety of my room, even if recent events have not lacked excitement. And I have news for you, but I won’t say more until the end of the letter. I’m not above holding out the suspense for a few more pages, though I suppose nothing can stop you from reading the end first. But please don’t, my dear, let me tell you my story in the right order.
As you know Messrs Childermass, Segundus and Honeyfoot had arrived, and I was eager to see them. When I walked downstairs, I realised Mr Childermass had not demanded an explanation last night, though he knew only a little of what had happened and I know he has a curious mind. I vastly appreciated his consideration to my distressed state, but it made me even more eager to explain myself.
I had rightly supposed Mr Childermass had told the others of the night, and I quickly explained what had happened in the previous days. I then acquainted them with my theory of what could free me from my enchantment. I was finally ready to tell them, and now also you.
I found my idea in a fairy tale where a princess had been enchanted into the shape of a large snake. What broke the spell was three baths, one filled with wine, one with milk and one with water, and it struck me it could work for my predicament. I have no skins to shed, but it is an enchantment which seems to cling to my body. It’s a magical residue which lingers to my person, and the more I thought about it, the more it made sense it was something I could wash off. And, though I hated the very thought, I strongly felt I needed to go back to Lost-Hope as the first step toward my freedom. I can’t explain why, but the feeling only grew and would not be dispelled. This also meant I had to travel on the King’s Road, which I did not know how to open myself. For that, I needed help from my friends.
I was sure protests would meet my theory, and it was; both Mr Segundus and Mr Honeyfoot were very vocal over how bad they thought my idea was. Well, perhaps not my idea as such, but the way I proposed to act; by going on my own. But Mr Childermass said nothing. He only crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, waiting for me to finish.
“My friends,” I said. “You have been my saviours, but now I must save myself. You may not like it, but I feel in my heart I’m the only one who can do this. But I still need your support and friendship, and I hope you will give it to me.”
There were more protests though more feeble, and in the end, I won them over.
I re-read what I have written here above, and it strikes me I sound calm and confident. But let me tell you, my dear friend, I was so scared it was only force of will which stopped me from breaking down. The idea I needed to return to Lost-Hope had been slow to form, and something I had struggled with for many weeks. It was my prison for so many years; host to so many of my miseries, and now I was to return there voluntarily. I can readily tell you the thought of going back made my heart beat fast and hard, and my mouth grew dry from sheer terror.
It was not, as I had both feared and hoped, difficult to open the road. I addressed my friends with instructions of what I needed on my return, but when I was about to step into the mirror, Mr Childermass was suddenly at my side.
“You need not go alone,” he said,
“It’s my undertaking.”
“I know. But it doesn’t have to mean you must walk in solitude. I propose to be your companion only, not your champion.”
I looked at him, and I saw it was not doubt of my abilities which made him give me the offer, and I was glad to have his company. I took his hand and stepped forward, into the mirror, the world changing around us. I cannot properly describe how it was to walk the King’s Road. I think it is different for any who set their feet there, and I’m not even sure Mr Childermass and I always saw the same things. We did not speak much, but I’m sure we were both afraid. To have Mr Childermass hand around mine was a comfort, and I believe he felt the same.
One thing I know we both saw. At one point we walked along the edge of a dense forest, and at a crossroads, we were hailed by a knight. He insisted we were to leave the road we were walking on and to come and fight him. At the sound of his voice, Mr Childermass stopped dead in his tracks. With a very peculiar look on his face, he touched the scar on his cheek, before urging me to walk on. The knight seemed unable to leave his own path, but as long as we could hear him he continued to call after us. I asked Mr Childermass if he was acquainted with this creature, and he said he believed he was, but did not embellish the story. I had in mind to ask more, but the odd mixture of contempt and pity on his face stopped me.
It is impossible to tell how time passed; perhaps we walked for days. (But when we returned, we had only been away for a scant half hour.) I can’t recall ever having to walk to Lost-Hope before, but I know it as soon as I saw it. The doors were unlocked before we could knock, swung open by two little girls. They were plump, pretty little things, but very pale, only the merest hint of yellow in their hair, blue in their eyes and the faintest of blushes on their cheeks and lips. They smiled at us with fish-sharp teeth and I realised they were my little beggar girls. It made me happy to see them so changed, and happy to know I was right, and there was no ill-will in them. They seemed delighted to see me, and took my hands, leading me into the castle, with Mr Childermass trailing behind. Lost-Hope is much changed now, so changed it could be another place with, every surface clean and polished. The windows had no cobwebs obscuring the glass, and every passage and room was brightly lit. It is now a pretty place, and it is clear Stephen has not been idle.
They brought us to a grand throne room, and not, I am grateful to say, to the ballroom where I spent so many years dancing. It was filled with people, and not all of them looked friendly, but I did not think much of it as I was eager to meet Stephen again. He sat on the throne and I would like to say he had not changed at all because he was always a man of great dignity, but one look told me he’s a king in truth now. My mother once nourished a dream I was to be presented at court. It was a dream destined to never be fulfilled, but she still hired a dance master to teach me the proper curtsey to greet a king. I never thought I would have any use for that knowledge, but now I curtsied deep, grateful for those lessons long ago. Mr Childermass bowed slightly, but with a respect I have never seen him show anyone before.
But Stephen stepped down from his throne and, took both of my hands and pulled me up. In his face I could see the same delight I felt to see my dear friend again. I am sure he, as well as I, have never thought we would meet again. He took us to an antechamber, away from his courtiers and seemed a little bit more like the old Stephen. He listened, quite gravely to my tale, and he nodded in agreement when it was ended.
“Yes, I can see the enchantment on you. I believe you have come to the right conclusion, and I will be happy to assist you.”
Accompanied by the little girls who seem to be Stephen’s personal attendants, we all went down into the wine cellars. I had never been there before; vast chambers filled with bottles and barrels. It was easy to arrange for a barrel to be opened, and with a small gesture, Stephen even conjured small steps for me to aid me. Only then did it struck me I might need to do something more, like a spell, but then I thought I should just follow my instinct and just step into the wine.
It suddenly seemed a ridiculous idea to immerse myself into a barrel of wine, but with as much dignity I could muster, and with Stephen offering his hand as support, I proceeded to my task with, I believe, some grace. The wine was neither hot nor cold, but it was not a pleasant affair to bathe in it. Especially since I needed to get my head under the surface too. I broke the surface with an unpleasant feeling I was getting wine into every crevice of my body. (I refrained to complain about it loudly, but I can mention it to you, dear.) And my dress was a mess! But I stepped out, dripping wet, red and sticky, and when I was standing on the floor again Mr Childermass pointed at the barrel.
“Look!”
We all looked, and there, just under the surface, we saw a shape looking just like myself. It looked solid at first glance, but under our very eyes, it dissolved and disappeared. And I felt different- lighter if you will, and I did not need Stephen and Mr Childermass reassurances that the enchantment had grown weaker to know it had worked.
We took our farewells quickly. I was sad because I had missed Stephen so much, and it would have been nice to spend some time with him again. I had so many questions about his new life, but I felt I need to remove my person from any magical surroundings as soon as possible. After all, I had come to get rid of an enchantment and not risk picking up a new one.
The road back did not look the same, and I was very grateful it also seemed to be shorter, as I was still very damp. Stephen had kindly offered to dry my clothes with a spell, but I declined for the same reason I wanted to leave as soon as possible. The look on Mr Segundus and Mr Honeyfoot face when I stepped out of the mirror almost made me laugh; but then I saw myself in it when the road closed, and I don’t believe I have ever looked more bedraggled in my life. And when Pampisford saw me she nearly fainted. My poor Pampisford; I fear she is not very happy with me at the moment! But despite this, she helped me undress and would have helped me into the bath too, if I had not sent her away. I don’t think she would have coped with more magic.
The milk bath was a much more pleasant experience than the one with wine, especially as there was plenty of warm water to rinse myself in after. And when I emerged from the milk, I could clearly see myself again, as a shed skin in the liquid, though this time it seemed less dense and it disappeared quickly.
The last bath was the hardest one. We agreed that nothing would do than a living stream, and luckily there is one only a mile from Rosehill. But although the day was warm, I knew the streaming water would be cold, and I never learned to swim.
Mr Childermass, very efficiently, took charge of preparing a carriage with fur throws and a foot stove. I would have preferred to go alone with him, but Mr Segundus and Honeyfoot were so keen to see the enchantment lifted that I could not deny them. I was also not keen to have another dress ruined even if I took care to take my oldest one this time. But needs must, and the thought I would soon be rid of this tiresome enchantment overshadowed any other feeling.
The water was as cold as I had feared; I trudged on until the water reached my waist. I could feel the water tugging at me, but not so hard I lost my footing. What was hardest was the bitter cold which had my teeth chattering in my mouth, but I steeled myself and dipped myself in the water. When I stood up, I could see the last version of myself, almost transparent now, float away in the streaming water. And I could feel it; something was gone though it is hard to say exactly what. A little it feels like I have carried a heavy burden for so long I was not aware of the weight, not until I no longer had to carry it.
When I stepped ashore Mr Childermass was there to wrap a fur around me, and I was grateful because by then my limbs felt frozen. He also had me drink several sips of brandy. I dislike the taste, but it helped to dispel some of the cold. But despite the precautions taken and the short trip back, I was still feeling very cold. I was feeling quite unwell when I stepped out of the carriage, and despite the hot bath Pampisford had waiting for me, I still feel it. In fact, I feel very odd; tired and with a headache growing that I fear I’m falling ill. In fact, I feel much worse now than when I first started to write this letter. Pampisford is hovering and is threatening to take my quill away of I don’t stop writing now. I shall obey her because I’m very tired, but I knew I couldn’t rest until I had told it all to you
And I am free, Arabella! I’m finally free of Lost-Hope. If I hadn’t this wretched headache, I would be very happy right now.
Your friend, Emma.
AN: I’m sure the idea of freeing someone from an enchantment by dipping them three times, can be found in several fairy tales, but my idea comes from a Swedish version of Cinderella. It’s quite different from other versions. Cinderella gets her ball clothes from a tree growing on her mother’s grave, and she goes to three balls, and her shoes are made of silver, gold and last of precious stones. And there is only one step-sister, who, when Cinderella gets the prince, makes up with Cinderella. It also doesn’t end with the wedding. In this story they get a child, and during a sea voyage the step-sister, who is really a witch, pushes Cinderella into the sea and enchants herself so she looks like Cinderella. Though no one notice the prince suddenly don’t feel happy anymore, the baby can’t stop crying and Cinderellas little dog tries to bite his mistress.
Back in the castle the nursemaid wakes up one night by the sound of chains and the real Cinderella, wet and chained, steps into the nursery. She kisses the baby and tells it she can only come twice more before she has to marry the sea goblin. Then the chains rattle and pulls her back into the water. The nursemaid tells the prince, who stays in the nursery the next night to see for himself. The next day he goes to a wise woman for help, and she instructs him to don a pair of iron gloves and prepare three baths with wine, milk and water, and to dip his wife. When the prince grabs Cinderella she transforms into a sea snake, but the prince manages to dip her, and for every dip, one of the snake’s skins fall of. After the last dip he has his Cinderella back and unenchanted.