So this is probably the most self-indulgent thing I've written… but I've always wanted to do something that gives a nod to historical credence, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's love of the supernatural and his spiritualist beliefs, which culminated in the Cottingley Fairies incident of 1917, and many more.
And, given these prompts, I wasn't sure what to do until I settled on this. This is a Fae/Urban Fantasy AU of Sherlock Holmes, though I will try to keep it as grounded as possible to stay true to canon and still fit into the Fairies incident(and, in general, Britain's love of all things supernatural….)(I am allowing myself one dramatic introduction though, as per fantasy standard.)
So! Keep in mind the warnings that apply here: Rituals (Or an attempt at it), World War One, murder, and other nasty scenes. This is also set after 'His Last Bow,' but much of what you know about retirement Holmes goes… a little out the window. Our year is 1917.
However, this will also be told in two parts, not consecutively, as the prompts unfortunately don't align as nicely as I'd want them to. But I won't leave this on a cliffhanger for too long.
With that? Let's take a look at what could be…
From Ennui Enigma: Seventeen is a magic number
And!
From Stutley Constable: A tumbledown cottage
A Tale of Rituals and Fairies
War had a way of tearing the world in two.
Such was the case for what everyone was calling The Great War, which had plunged the world into madness, death, and bloodshed some three years ago.
It never indeed went away, from every distant cascade of bullets to every mortar fire that crested over the hills, across the water, and into the countries of those who weren't in the war.
But where there was one War, there were multiple. Such was the case with how the World came to be, divided into both Human and Magical. War between the supernatural creatures that many fled into the human world.
And many more crossed over into the Magical world, aiming to escape, be free, or otherwise.
That is, if they were made aware that the other world existed.
And some, even crossed over into the Human World to do more incredible things. Such was the case with Sherlock Holmes: a Winter Fae Lord that crossed over in his youth, bored of politics that his brother seemed so entranced by and equally enthused by the idea of new people to aid, new mysteries to solve.
Such was the case with John Watson, a Summer Fae Knight who crossed over into the Human World after hearing of the other wars that ripped apart the humans, not wanting to see any more suffering if he could do anything about it.
And no one was ever the wiser if they didn't go looking for it. This was simply the way of both worlds.
In my partnership with Sherlock Holmes, I can always recall that he was reluctant to have many dealings with our… otherworldly natures.
It was a rather agreeable aspect of our partnership; I too had grown fonder of the world of London, of humans, rather than the political intrigue, honeyed half-truths, and power games present throughout both of our Courts.
So, neither of us made much mention of it unless it was needed.
As I recall, it was in August 1917 that we were made aware of a case that intersected both of our worlds, and rather brutally.
The Strand knew us both to be retired. We moved to the countryside in Sussex, where Holmes tended to his apiaries and I to my manuscripts for the rest of our lives in old age.
If such a thing was possible.
Indeed, as much as I loathe to admit, one of the things we picked up from humans was lying. But it agrees that I would not be capable of serving in yet another war without my injuries from both the Fae and those at Maiwand from getting in the way.
Much to my disappointment, as I could not continue my promise to end suffering where I could…
We had both been outside in the garden as Holmes carefully examined his bees when a sharp, frantic knock came at the door.
"Are we expecting anyone, my dear fellow?" I asked as Holmes glanced up from his bees, one particularly bold bee crawling across the netting on his nose.
"I can't say that we are, friend Watson, but judging by that, it might be Stackhurst."
Stackhurst had been a loyal friend of Holmes before I moved to Sussex, and they solved the mystery of 'The Adventure of the Lion's Mane' together, so I was happy to see him in.
Though he does sound worried… that's not like him. What could be the matter?
Like us, Stackhurst was of the rare sort that crossed over from the magical world into the human one in Sussex at the present, an older dhampir that held a position at the local school and thus was in the know for what may come to Sussex.
He sat down in the armchair before us, wringing his hands. "My apologies, gentlemen, for my intrusion, especially during some of the important beekeeping seasons, but I know I needed to bring this to you." Said he. "Do you remember the Fairies incident in Cottingley a month ago?"
It brought quite a storm to the Winter and Summer Courts if Mycroft is to be believed. Of course, it is easy to pass off as other phenomena when someone's looking for an answer; according to Holmes, 'So why would you make such a fuss about it?
Then again, I can't say some Sprites are amused at being called glow-worms!
Holmes let out a snort as he plopped down across from Stackhurst. "Indeed. Every fae in both Courts knows not to show up on camera if they can help it—baring the circumstances that come from living in places with millions of people. But you aren't here to talk about fake instances. No, I do believe you have something more intriguing, I take it."
Stackhurst nodded as he passed over the Times into my hands. "There's been people disappearing for a while now, across London. Seventeen, to be precise. The thing is, I think I've seen them in the tumbledown cottage over by the school. Or, heard them, at least."
Holmes tipped his head back in that listless intensity that often occurred at the beginning of a case, eyes half closed. "Indeed, I've heard of the disappearances; Scotland Yard has been trying to track them down, so for them to reappear here… most intriguing indeed. What, pray tell, did you hear? Be as precise as possible."
Stackhurst's expression darkened as he slouched slightly. "Groaning. There was a lot of groaning. A few cries, the youngest sounding like a child."
At once, both Holmes and I jumped to our feet, the Times quickly discarded. (On recollection, I instead, shambled to my feet.)
"What else? And pray that we are not too late; this is dire indeed, Stackhurst!" Holmes said, immediately grabbing his things.
Holmes, even in his rather aloof nature, was a Fae of rationalism who had a softer spot for children, as evidenced by the Baker Street Irregulars.
To hear a child in active danger…! It was no wonder Holmes immediately wanted to get to work.
Myself included!
"A lot of fabric being moved around. That's why I thought it was originally something like the Cottingley Fairies; I thought someone was trying to stage it… but then I heard those cries, and I knew it was something real and hurried over to you two." Stackhurst said.
"Then you will permit us to finish this as we make our way to the tumbledown cottage. We must hurry!" cried Holmes as he immediately darted out the door, with us at his heels.
I can only imagine what kind of danger they're in, seventeen people, including a child, and for what? I can only hope that Holmes and I can take care of whatever blackguard has done such a thing!
After a short distance(as Sussex homes in our area were quite remarkably close to one another), we arrived at the School, with the tumbledown cottage just on the hill beyond it, grass blowing in the sea breeze behind it.
Stackhurst had returned to the school, as per Holmes's request, as he wasn't sure what would be lurking in the cottage's walls and did not want to have Stackhurst's school unguarded.
Typically, the fine summer weather would be invigorating for someone in my court, but now? It was a taunt, a warning.
While I may have physically felt like I was in my element, I was not at home. And this was dangerous.
As both a denizen of the Winter Court and a detective such as himself, a look of foreboding passing over his face, Holmes looked much the same. "Watson, have you noticed how the bushes around the cottage look… plucked? Tell me what you make of it." Asked he.
I made my way slightly forward, hunkering down into the grass so we wouldn't be spotted by my approach. The bushes had several leaves stripped from them; branches pointed sharply toward the door. Most alarmingly, both bushes had dried blood smeared into the branches and were wreathed in magic.
A frantic approach… goodness! They were dragged through with some force! "They were in considerable distress, Holmes; they were dragged in through the door, and they held the bushes in an attempt to break free. I can see their magic on the branches, too; they're quite potent."
"Capital observation, my dear Watson," Holmes said, crouching beside me. "And, I will add, all of those spells and magic you sense are cast in distress, from what I can recall of non-Fae magic. Do you remember the case with the engineer Hatherely and the Kratides?"
"I do. Hatherley released enough magic when he was escaping Colonel Stark to get free, and Paul Kratides used his to stay alive as long as he did—" I paused, as the implication finally set in. "I see what you are getting at Holmes, they were all dragged through here, and whatever they were taken for was enough distress to release this much magic." I said.
"Indeed. And think of it, friend Watson… seventeen souls, precisely, enough of a distressing situation to release carefully controlled magic, and appearing at this cottage where no one will hear them, apart from a well meaning dhampir." Holmes said, as we crept closer to the rotting walls of the cottage.
"We are just in time to stop a ritual?" I breathed, as Holmes nodded again, fists tight around his walking stick he'd taken with him.
"I do not know what kind yet. But we will need to go in with the utmost caution, if you still wish to follow me, my dear fellow." Said he. "If not, I will return with post haste when all is done here."
I shook my head almost immediately, glaring at the cottage as I spoke to Holmes. "I would not leave you here, Holmes, not when there's this much danger."
Holmes offered a grin. "Once more following me into danger. You are truly a stalwart of this age, Watson."
Before I could have wanted to reply, a thin cry came from the cottage, weak and reedy as it disappeared on the wind as fast as it came.
It was the child that Stackhurst had heard, and by what we could hear…! We are running out of time!
Holmes and I sprung to our feet once more, exchanging the barest of glances. There was no more need for words, as we darted into the cottage, and descended into the encroaching darkness that blotted the inside to follow the subsequent screams.
What ritual needs seventeen souls for its magic to work?
And unfortunately, this is where this chapter ends. I've always wanted to do a magic/Fae based Holmes AU since learning about the Cottingley Fairies, so this prompt gave me the perfect opportunity to do so.
So: Ennui Enigma, I'm not sure if this is what you had in mind, but thanks for the idea irregardless.
I will explain more about the world in the next Chapter of this AU, but it won't feature again until Chapter 19. For some basics, there's a lot of overlap between magic and history, though most historical events have happened as is. There's just a lot more… non-human folks in this world that experience and interact with the world.
The idea to make both Watson and Holmes Fae were definitely a backbone for this AU, as I've seen plenty of fiction where Holmes and Watson are supernatural creatures or heavily associated with magic… but never really Fae or Fairies, so it was an easy decision to make them Fae.
That being said, I'd like to shoutout a few things that inspired this chapter, and are really, really cool to check out in terms of worldbuilding Holmes and magic together: "Festive December Tales" by Ennui Enigma(For their ingenious inclusion of Leprechauns, werewolves, and the freaking Loch Ness Monster), "Magical Creatures AU" by trustinghim17(For their seamless worldbuilding of both Holmes's world and Watson's with magic and myth/folklore), as well as several of the prompts that I've gotten this year that lend credence to magic. Go check their stories out: They are easily some of the coolest things I've read this year.
Lastly, my references are as follows: 'His Last Bow,' 'The Adventure of the Lion's Mane,' 'The Adventure of the Engineer's Thumb,' 'The Adventure of the Greek Interpreter,' 'A Study in Scarlet,' 'What's the Price of a Mile?', 'The Adventure of the Speckled Band,' and, partially, 'The Adventure of the Bruce-Parington Plans,' and 'A Scandal in Bohemia.'
Next time: What exactly did Holmes get up to in 1893?
Cheers,
Blue
