Author's note: Hello fellow readers! Once again, I am very grateful for your reviews and kind words. I'll try to make as many chapters as I can and as my creative flow will let me. Finally, PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD REVIEW. This is a small story right now and this is a very small fandom. So in order to know if this is worth my time or not, I really need those helpful reviews from my readers. That is the only way I'll know if I need to correct anything. thank you. enjoy.
P.S. if any of you wish to contribute/help write or create a future storyline to this story or future story please don't hesitate to message me! (I get writers' block a lot so this really helps me.)
The next day, before Rosalind was going to run some errands, she received a letter from Mr. Strange. He asked if she would come over today to discuss a certain subject that Mr. Norrell would otherwise not acknowledge out loud. Intrigued by Mr. Strange's request, she sent a messenger to his home earlier that morning to inform that she would come.
-Meanwhile-
Jonathan Strange stood in the disheveled mess he called his study. A match in one hand, candle in the other. He recited the incantation he had found, lit the candle, and blew out the match. The atmosphere around him suddenly shifted, darkening as the floorboards groaned and walls wailed. Strange looked around for a moment, then was filled with utter disappointment.
"Oh, well." Strange muttered in defeat as he slumped back into his chair, staring at the ignited candle. Unbeknownst to Strange, the fairy did come, he stood in front of his desk, merely imperceptible to the magician.
A manservant with a small tray of drinks suddenly walks through the door and into the room. The man stopped abruptly, looking around. His face contorted in confusion and bewilderment.
"Ah, there you are." The fairy told him. "I hope you don't mind me bringing you here, Stephen."
The fairy looked at Stephen, who was rigid, and staring rather nervously at Mr. Strange. "Oh, do not concern yourself about him." He assured. " he can either see nor hear us." The so-called Gentleman slowly stalks over to Strange's side of the desk, standing over him.
"He attempts to summon me, but I do not allow myself to be seen." He informed Stephen. He then glides his hand over the lighted wick candle in Strange's hand. "Look, he is just as stupid as the other one." The fairy bins down to look at the man's face.
"The other one?" Stephen asked, abashed.
"-And very nearly as ugly." The fairy added.
"-What?" Strange asked, suddenly looking directly into the fae's eyes. The fairy's brows furrowed, looking at him with great caution. Strange's gaze moves away from the fairy as he gets up from his chair. All of the men turned when they heard rapping on the door.
"Mr. Strange? I hope you don't mind, I let myself in." A feminine voice came from behind the wooden frame.
"Oh not at all! Please come in." Strange seemed to lighten up almost instantly upon hearing her. Strange stood as Rosalind walked in the room.
"I'm sorry, pardon the mess. I have been rather busy."
"It's quite alright, Mr. Strange." She assured him. "You said in your letter you had something you wished to discuss?"
"Ah, yes! Indeed, I do." He turns his gaze back over his desk, looking for one of his books. "Oh, and please, call me Jonathan." He looks back up at her for a moment. "If that's alright?"
"Yes, but only if you call me Rosalind."
He smiled, "of course." Finally, he picks up a dark book and looks back at Rosalind. "How much do you know about fairies? Mr. Norrell, frankly, seems dead-set on ignoring my questions on the subject."
Rosalind was taken back slightly by the inquiry. She didn't expect to touch the subject of fairies again so soon.
"Why pray tell, do you want to know about fairies?" She asked.
All the while, neither of them knew that they were being watched. The fairy King couldn't take his eyes off of her. He knew he would be seeing her again, just not like this, not here. "What on earth have you gotten yourself into, little magician." His intense gaze never leaving as he strode toward her.
"S-sir, you know her?" Stephen asked he looked concerned for the Rosalind.
"We've met before, the night after lady Pole joined back with the living." His right hand Began ghosting over the back of her hair. "I invited her to join my ball too, Stephen." He added. "But do you know how she replied to my courtesy? she claimed that I lure women to my ball only to imprison them there forever. What slander! All my guests are treated with utmost care. Why, I practically save them from their boring and Mundane lives! How dare she!" In a sudden flare of anger, he yanked harshly at a strand of hair he was twirling in his fingers.
"AH!" Rosalind yelped as she spun around to face her attacker, only to see no one.
"...are you alright Rosalind?" Strange asked her, confused by her sudden whimpering.
"I don't know! Something just pulled at my hair." Rosalind touched the Back of her head and felt moisture. When she pulled her hand back and inspected it, she saw blood. "I-i'm bleeding." She announced.
"What?!" Strange rushed toward her, the fairy King quickly got out of the way and now stood beside Stephen. The fairy King took the strand of hair into a handkerchief and tucked it away in his pocket. "Come, I'll call a doctor. We'll wait in the living room." The fairy started to stare hatefully at Strange as he guided Rosalind out the door.
"Look how he's fawning over her Stephen. It's downright distasteful!" The fairy accosted.
"Sir, perhaps he is merely trying to help a lady in stress. What is to gain from hurting the poor woman so?"
The fairy walked over to the candlestick that sat upon Strange's desk."What could that oaf offer her that I couldn't? Hmm? She has brought this upon herself, Stephen, I offered her happiness and denied it, denied me."
The man servant had a dreadful realization. "If I may ask. Are you jealous of him, sir?"
"Jealous? What do I have to be jealous of Stephen? Let him fawn over her. She'll be joining me at our ball very soon." An unexpected draft blew out the candles flame, leaving the room in silence.
