Forward

Whimsy experienced a terrible betrayal when her sister eloped with the Faerie Avatar, Jack, a man Whimsy had been engaged to and was still interested in, despite knowing that Jack was simply using her. Since this betrayal, Whimsy's mood has been consistently chilly. She isn't actively unpleasant, but she doesn't make any attempts at conversation, either, and she has managed to frighten away Ariana's son, Grayson, who had been taking conjuration lessons from her. Concerned about this change in Whimsy, Ariana decides to talk with her, catching her as she's returning with Vincent from his Trump lessons.

Ariana smiles at Whimsy when she arrives and asks if she can spare a moment to talk.

"Actually, Ariana, it was my intent to do a little gardening this afternoon. If you wish to chat, perhaps we could do this in my quarters," Whimsy remarks.

"Of course." She would follow Whimsy. "Are you working on an indoor garden, then?"

The two of them begin walking down the corridor, Whimsy's heels clicking lightly on the stone floor.
"Yes. I am so tired of being surrounded by lifeless stone and metal...and so I've been making a few changes to my rooms," she comments.

"That sounds like a lovely idea. Castles can feel so cold. I've taken to hanging pictures and tapestries to try and make my quarters seem warmer."

"It passes the time, anyway," Whimsy replies indifferently.

Ariana frowns ever so slightly. "Well, one would hope you derive some enjoyment from it, as well."

"Of course," Whimsy replies, with a bland half-smile. One thing that Ariana might notice is that Whimsy seems to be taking better care of herself lately. Her nails are immaculate, and painted a deep burgundy, and her hair is styled and interwoven with ribbons and combs. Her dress, also a deep red, is simple but elegant. And one might also guess that she's been eating better, as she seems a touch less bony since Ariana last looked closely at her (a few weeks ago).

Ariana is silent for moment before saying, "Have you always had an interest in gardens, or is this a recent hobby?"

"I've liked the outdoors since I was a child...liked growing things. But I never had a chance at anything permanent until I came here," Whimsy answers. By this point, the two have reached Whimsy's quarters. She opens the doors, and immediately Ariana notes the scent of flowers. (Not the evil hallucinogenic ones.)
The parlor has been turned into a veritable greenhouse. Although it isn't done to a ridiculous extent, there are a lot of plants in here, most of them flowering. Large potted plants rest in the corners; smaller ones rest on the tables. A flowering vine of some kind has grown from the balcony into the room and runs up the wall and ceiling near the balcony. There are a great many hanging plants as well. Ariana sees that Whimsy has planted dahlias, roses, irises, lilacs, and a few others she don't recognize. As she passes by the dahlias, she could almost swear that they lean towards her just a bit.
Whimsy opens the balcony doors wider, and then pulls on a bellpull for a servant to come.

Ariana gasps with delight when she sees the plants, and begins to slowly walk around the parlor, smelling some of the more fragrant flowers as she admires them all. She especially studies the dahlias.
"This is marvelous, Whimsy. I can't believe you've managed to accomplish so much in only a few weeks."

"I've always had an affinity for conjuring plants," Whimsy begins. "I created them...made them permanent. I have a good deal of understanding of the way plants work, so I can create them in such a way that they can survive the soil and climate here in Amber, even when such plants normally wouldn't survive."
Whimsy approaches the dahlias.
"The dahlias in particular are rather fragile...they don't take well to bad climates. I modified them to make them hardier." She pauses for a moment. "What was it that Mother's tome on plant lore said? Ah yes. 'The dahlia suggests the instability of perfect beauty.' Because they perish so easily. These dahlias will not."
And she begins removing dead leaves and fallen petals, which she places into a wooden bowl.

Ariana hesitates, then says, "It sounds as though you are speaking of yourself, as well."

"Hardly," Whimsy mutters, with a slight frown.

Ariana raises an eyebrow. "I don't suppose you think of yourself as rather fragile, do you?"

"If I had ever in my life been 'fragile,' I wouldn't be here now," Whimsy replies, moving a vine away from a hanging lamp. "Sturdiness is something we inherit as part of being of the blood of Amber, is it not?"

"Yes and no. Sturdiness of the body, certainly. But we are by no means invincible, nor are we without emotion."

"Fairly close to invincible in some respects," Whimsy replies. "If you ever wish to test my strength, Ariana, I'd be more than happy to show you how close I've come." There is something dangerous in Whimsy's slight smile as she turns to look at her, her green eyes meeting Ariana's.

Ariana smiles faintly. "I have no doubt that your strength of mind is quite impressive. It does not alter my original statement, though. No matter how strong we are in mind and body, we can still be hurt."

Whimsy merely shrugs and turns back to her plants. A moment later she adds, "From what I'm told of your history, Ariana, you know that better than any of us. Is that why you're here? Has something happened with one of your children?"

Ariana looks somewhat surprised. "No, not to one of my children. I don't tend to be this rational when something happens to one of them. I'm here because I'm worried about you, Whimsy."

"Amazing that it took you that long to get around to admitting it," she replies. "Don't think to try to shoulder my burdens, Ariana, you have enough of your own. I'm selfish in this way; my problems are mine, and I don't intend to share them with anyone."

"That's what worries me, Whimsy. I understand better than most the urge to cut yourself off emotionally from everyone, as a means of avoiding future hurt. But it's not healthy in the long run. And it makes it too easy to reinforce to yourself things that may not even be true, since you don't allow anyone to tell you otherwise."
It should be obvious to Whimsy that she's speaking from personal experience.

"Ariana, you deal with your pain in your own way. I deal with mine in a fashion uniquely me. If I am distant, it is because I recognize that my current state of mind is...not conducive to positive interactions with the family. It has nothing to do with cutting myself off emotionally..."
"You make the mistake of seeing me through your lens, Ariana. I'm not you at all. I have no husband, no children, no close family save for Mother...and so it is not my way to turn to others for answers that lie within me. And that's how it's always been."

"Just because it has always been that way, doesn't mean it must continue to be that way. I came to Amber with no husband, children or any family at all. Things change." Ariana pauses for a moment, searching for the right words. "I know that your background, your life up until this point, has discouraged turning to others for advice, or encouragement, or even just someone to talk to. And the patterns of so long are difficult to break. But it has been my experience that trying to solve every problem, deal with every wrong or hurt alone, tends to leave you more alone than before. I don't want that to happen to you."

Whimsy pauses, her back to Ariana, and Ariana can hear the soft sound of Whimsy grinding her teeth.
"Yes, Ariana, things do change, but in truth my life in Amber is not so different from my life in Chaos. I am still surrounded by duplicity and deceit, and NOTHING that has happened in Amber since my arrival has given me any indication that the members of my family are trustworthy enough that I would feel comfortable sharing even the smallest part of myself with them."
She turns to Ariana. "Someone to talk to?" she asks, her tone mocking. "Someone to confide in? Someone to whom I could bare my heart, and thus finally receive the inevitable dagger thrust? I cannot even confide in my own mother, for fear that thoughts and words which oppose her will would be summarily crushed."
"No, I don't trust any of you enough to reveal my heart, and I only trust you somewhat because I know that I could crush you like a roach."
She turns away from Ariana to resume work on her irises.
"And besides, Ariana, what more can happen to me? I've already lost everything that mattered to me...and life goes on...not so different from before." Her tone isn't bitter or regretful, just coolly matter-of-fact.

Ariana appears unfazed by Whimsy's response. It seems to confirm something for her, actually.
"I am sorry that you cannot confide in your mother. In truth, I fear her approach to life is similar to your own, which is why I am concerned for you. Do you truly want to wind up like her, powerful, but unable to even relate to your own child?"

"My child?" Whimsy asks with a throaty chuckle. "Thorn and I get along...just...fine, Ariana."
She pauses.
"My child... There will be no child...no more children...because I choose it to be thus. Amber has broodmares aplenty without my input. And besides, I don't doubt that Alexandra will have enough children to more than make up for my frigidity and Laughter's indifference."

Ariana lays a hand on Whimsy's arm and says softly, "You may change your mind someday, you know. We live for a long time. Who can say what may happen a few centuries down the road? I doubt Fiona intended to have children originally, and yet now she has three."

Whimsy gently pulls away from Ariana. "We can live for a long time, Ariana, but this is not to say that any one of us will," she replies. "At this stage, I have no future here. I will do what I can to guard Nicholas' throne from usurpers; I owe him this much. But after that, I doubt I will remain. There's nothing for me here."

Ariana appears distressed by this. "I think you are wrong. You still have people who care about you here. Do you honestly think you will be happier wandering through Shadow alone?"

"Care about me?" Whimsy asks, her tone again mocking. "After last week's little debacle, I think I can do without so much familial love."

"Last week's little debacle had more to do with familial spite, not love. There is a difference."

"In this family," Whimsy replies grimly, "the only difference is the depth to which the dagger sinks into your flesh."

"I guess I can understand why you feel that way. You've never had the chance to feel anything better. And when you've been betrayed by someone you care about, the world seems a completely wretched place for a while."

"Given the story of Grayson's conception, I'm certain you do understand. With total strangers, you at least have the chance that they're not looking to use and abuse you...with family, you don't even have that."

"That seems to be the trend among Oberon's get, yes, but not all of them. Gérard, at least, seems genuine enough. And I have found Benedict to be honorable. And there are some of our cousins, at least. But what happened to you is not unique to just the Family here. Siblings often do foolish things out of jealousy, no matter where you are."

"I would say this goes a little beyond foolish," she responds. "But it doesn't really matter. Alexandra made her bed; let her sleep in it. I have more pressing concerns...like keeping Eric off the throne and keeping his assassins at bay."

Ariana looks concerned. "Has there been an attempt on your life?"

"Not yet," Whimsy replies. "But it's only a matter of time. He believes I killed Vixen. How can he act otherwise? How would you respond were I to kill Vetch? Not that it's humanly possible, mind you."

"That's not a simple question to answer, either. I mean, of course I'd want to avenge his death, but a lot depends on the circumstances. For one thing, I certainly couldn't kill you outright, without earning the wrath of your parents." She looks pained. "There was a time once when I feared a friend of mine was going to kill Lucien, at a time when Lucien was vulnerable. Had he done so, I probably would have killed him, yes. But it's not quite the same circumstances. For one thing, Vixen isn't dead, she simply took off. Something that was inevitable, especially once it became known that she tried to kill Leto's child. If Eric is going to kill you simply because you were the last person seen in Vixen's vicinity, without a shred of evidence that Vixen has even been harmed, much less that you were responsible, then he's completely irrational. Which doesn't invalidate your concern, since I believe he is irrational. Especially if he does try to kill you. Pissing off Fiona and Suhuy would be an act of supreme stupidity." She pauses. "Unless, of course, he frames someone else for it. Have you arranged for a bodyguard?"

"I, too, believe he is irrational...and therefore, I cannot guess whether his actions will be well-thought-out, or quite random. I do not have a bodyguard, but I do have my eyes and ears in Amber and this castle, and I have taken steps to ensure that I cannot easily be killed." Whimsy smiles to herself at that.

Ariana looks worried. "Have you had much experience with this sort of thing before?"

"One hundred years of it, cousin. I hope it's enough," Whimsy replies.

"I hope so too. Despite what you may think, I would hate to see anything happen to you."

"Well...I can guarantee this much. If I am to die, I'll drag Eric screaming into Hell with me," Whimsy responds firmly.

"You'll understand if I'd rather it didn't come to that. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Be available if I Trump you...," Whimsy answers quietly.

"I shall, to the best of my ability." Ariana hesitates. "Would you like me to consult Lucien about this? He used to do that sort of thing, at one point. He might be able to offer some advice."

"Are you entirely certain that your husband would choose to ally himself with Nicholas over Eric?" she asks. "For acting on my behalf, even passively, will be interpreted as a declaration of support for Nicholas...and could get your husband into conflict with Eric."
"I understand your desire to help, Ariana, but why must you go out of your way to risk your family's stability and happiness at every opportunity...however good-intentioned?"

"I don't see something this serious as going out of my way, Whimsy. If I do nothing, and Eric takes the throne from Nicholas, then I will be partly to blame for it. I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't at least try." She shakes her head. "Which is not to say that I don't pray every day that nothing will happen and things will remain peaceful. But if Eric takes the throne, there will be war, and that will affect my family's stability and happiness regardless of what I do."

Whimsy pauses and looks at Ariana for a moment, her expression enigmatic.
"Well-spoken, Ariana. I see that I've been underestimating your grasp of what could happen. My apology for that. I will welcome whatever aid you feel comfortable providing."
She smiles rather grimly for a moment.
"It's all so stupid, really. Does Eric really think that the support of the nobles can compare with Nimue's support of Nicholas? He doesn't stand a chance of doing anything but causing more death and pain."

"The very fact that he would be willing to cause such is to me further proof that he would not make a good king. He wants the throne for his own personal power, and he doesn't care who gets hurt in the process."

"You really don't need to explain that to *me*, Ariana," Whimsy replies, carefully pruning the vines along the balcony doors.

"No, I don't imagine I do. Sorry, I didn't mean to start ranting about it."

"I'm being short-tempered...perhaps we could talk another time. All this focus on Eric is putting me in a foul mood," Whimsy answers quietly.

Ariana looks apologetic. "Of course. We can change the subject, or I can leave, whichever you'd prefer."

"Perhaps we should just call it a day..."

"As you wish. If you do feel the need to talk later on, you know where to find me."

Whimsy merely continues with her work.

Ariana begins to leave, then pauses at the doorway and looks back. "Thank you, by the way, for the time you've been spending with Vincent. I appreciate it." She then departs.

"Outrageous Fortune"
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All text on this page is © 1998 by Kris Fazzari and Matthew Richardson.

Last modified on October 28, 1998 by Kris Fazzari.