Changeling's Choice (first six poems)

[alexseanchai]

All of these were written for pt_lightning and podficced by cantarina; podfics are available at the appropriate links from the Changeling's Choice series on AO3.


Title: Changeling's Choice
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Gillian chooses.
Pairings: None.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 187 (villanelle)

"I love you more than fairy tales," Mom said.
She vanished, gone forever, one June day.
Did someone need to see that she bleeds red?

We thought for fourteen years that Mom was dead.
She reappeared. We told her, stay away.
"I love you more than fairy tales," Mom said.

Who's Connor, that my mother took to bed?
Who's Raysel? Why does she think Mom must pay?
Did someone need to see that she bleeds red?

Pink and grass and primrose, white and red.
My dad or mom? The human world or fae?
"I love you more than fairy tales," Mom said.

Rossetti and Shakespeare. I choose with dread.
My mother is blood-covered; I feel gray.
Did someone need to see that she bleeds red?

Mom tells me what I am: a fae purebred
of Dóchas Sidhe blood—well, now anyway.
"I love you more than fairy tales," Mom said.
Did someone need to see that she bleeds red?



Title: Naming Conventions
Rating: G
Summary: Gillian learns something about the fae.
Pairings: None.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 59 (limerick)

A girl in the City by Bay
Was quite shocked to be called Lady Daye.
Gillian Marks was her name.
So fae weren't the same.
How progressive, yet feudal, the fae.



Title: Adjustment Period
Rating: G
Summary: Gillian learns something about magic.
Pairings: None.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 278 (pantoum)

I tell my father and I tell him true,
"I'm my mother's child in the end.
I was taken because of her, not you.
I'd like it if my parents could be friends."

I'm my mother's child in the end.
I'm not my father's child anymore.
I'd like it if my parents could be friends.
I've closed that door.

I'm not my father's child anymore.
I'm not human. I'm not even mortal. Not now.
I've closed that door.
I can't go back to school like this. But how?

I'm not human. I'm not even mortal. Not now.
I see it in my pointed ears and polychromatic eyes.
I can't go back to school like this. But how?
Oh, won't they be surprised.

I see it in my pointed ears and polychromatic eyes.
I learn all myself how to weave my first spell.
Oh, won't they be surprised
to see me human, not one fae tell.

I learn all myself how to weave my first spell.
It's not as difficult as it might sound
to see me human, not one fae tell.
I can again go out on the town.

It's not as difficult as it might sound
to learn how to be a pureblood fae.
I can again go out on the town.
It's easier if I stay away.

To learn how to be a pureblood fae—
"I was taken because of her, not you.
It's easier if I stay away,"
I tell my father and I tell him true.



Title: One Is Silver
Rating: G
Summary: Gillian makes friends. Or tries to.
Pairings: Toby/Tybalt, Raj/Helen, mentions of May/Jazz and Jan/Li Qin and Quentin/Dean Lorden and Bridget Ames/Etienne.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 436 (rhymed iambic pentameter)

Raj is a Prince of Cats, and Quentin's squire
to Sir Daye my mother. I inquire
about their parents—Raj has none he'll speak
of, save his uncle Tybalt, who can pique
my mother with some ease. And Quentin will
say only that he loves his parents still.
We all three look askance at Mom and Tybalt and
"we do not want to know," says Quentin, bland;
"about time, though." And Chelsea, who is just
getting to know her father, shrugs. "I trust
they know what they are doing. Mine are like
that, too." A pause. "What do fae think of dykes?"
I blink, because how can, how does she know?
And Quentin shrugs. "Most fae are bi. I'll show
you Duke Sylvester's niece Jan's grave someday.
Jan and Li Qin were married—odd for fae,
as marriage is for children, but they had
April still. And May and Jazz—it's sad
you haven't noticed," Quentin says to me.
"They're not exactly subtle." / "So I see,"
I say. "We aren't talking about me."
Raj laughs and Quentin snorts. "But aren't we?"
And Chelsea looks around, confused. "I thought—
this subject would be just a little fraught.
Whatever. Good to know it's fine I'm queer."
"No one cares. Not Shadowed Hills, nor here,
nor the Court of Cats," says Quentin in
reply. "But Dean might," says Raj with a grin.
Quentin growls and leaps. Chelsea and I
get out of the way. "Crush on a guy?"
I guess, and Chelsea sighs, says "Boys. The same
in all the worlds." A girl calls Raj's name,
knocks on the door; we let her in, and greet
one Helen, Raj's girlfriend. "Pleased to meet
you," Chelsea says. Raj gets up from the fight,
ignoring his friend Quentin, future knight,
with all the dignity of royal cat.
Quentin on the kitchen floor lies flat.
"I cannot even tease him back," he whines.
"Everyone knows Helen's his girl. There's lines."
Raj leaves with Helen, but before they go
she says, "You girls I'd like to get to know.
Let's hang out sometime. Maybe Saturday?"
"Sure," say I, and Chelsea says, "I may
have things with parents, but I'd like to get
to know you too. I'll ask. My heart is set
on Saturday," she adds. It's just like home,
with Maggie, Cari, Jyoti—I can't roam
back to see my mortal friends, but I
can make fae friends, or at least, I can try.



Title: Longing
Rating: PG
Summary: Gillian contemplates (im)mortality.
Pairings: Gillian/Chelsea.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 140 (sonnet)

She's just like me, except she grew to think
she's fae, not human, unlike me. I know
we're fae now altogether, not in sync
with how our new immortal lives will go.
But Chelsea understands what not a one
of people in this life can clearly see:
I do not want my mortal life to shun
me or to be uncaring shunned by me.
My father, stepmom, classmates—yes, I know
the rules. And so does Chelsea. We did not
grow up as fae, we grew up human, so
that marks, indelible and bright, our thought.
She knows, my Chelsea: understands that I
miss home, my mortal home, and why I cry.



Title: Shadowed Hills School of Magic
Rating: G
Summary: Gillian gets practice in magic.
Pairings: None.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 231 (terza rima)

Magic simple seems in Quentin's hands.
Chelsea and I must agree on this.
Some of it is Daoine Sidhe, some spans

what fae unknowing of it are remiss—
endangering themselves and all of us—
to stay unknowing. Magic, I find, is bliss,

but difficult. Chelsea is not brusque
when learning something she can't yet apply—
but what's a year? She says she won't fuss,

and with two faces to conceal, it's I
who gets most practice in human disguise.
We can even shopping go, and spy

old friends of hers or mine—recognize
us? Not at all; our faces are unlike
our own. It's Helen who first thought it wise.

It's my fault we, like sisters, look alike.
The disguises must be cast from different molds.
I'm not yet that good; that I dislike.

Mom teaches us to make dross look like gold,
marsh-water charms that Devin taught to her.
(Who's he? What are Mom's stories untold?)

Mom teaches me the things that her mother
should have taught her about the Dóchas Sidhe.
Tybalt helps, and May and Jazz; better

I know all I can do—though not that she
has the knowledge base to understand
the magic of our blood—unlike Chelsea.