Who: Carabosse and Warren (one of the faerie council)
When: Not long after this thread
Where: Carabosse's garden
What: Warren delivers something to Carabosse before Mabb can kill him


Carabosse was nothing if not careful. She had made the preparations in her home, had planned an escape route if required. She had laid out her magics in such a way that no one could cross the borders of her property without her knowledge.

It came as quite the surprise when the least expected came to her, stepping over her charms with ease and smiling knowingly. Come out to play Carabosse. One last time.

Alarms ringing, Carabosse reacted quickly, potion in hand to stun whatever had wandered into her sacred territory. As she arrived on the lawn her guest smiled, eyes alight with trouble.

"Warren of the council," she said darkly, the potion slipped into a pocket hidden in her dress. "What business do you have here?"

He cringed at his name, such a plain name for a faerie with power and schemes to keep them all guessing for ages to come after he had gone. After Mabb would kill him, he was certain she was coming. "I have great business with you forgetful one." His lips twitched in superiority and he held up a small blue vial. "There are things you need to know before mad Mabb has her way with me."

"And you would let her?" Carabosse asked, suitably off guard. Warren was always the strangest of the council, often deemed eccentric. His methods were uncouth and curious, but he always achieved the result for which he aimed.

"I would rather die with most of my secrets than to carry them for another eternity," he replied oddly. "Speaking of which, this is for you." He tossed the vial unceremoniously and as he hoped it slipped through Carabosse's wicked fingers and smashed on the ground beneath her.

A thin snake of sound and sight, a peculiar thing in smoky form crawled from the broken vial to the curious fae who stood spellbound. She had seen this before, a very long time ago. Captured memories stored in glass could be reclaimed. This was something she knew and had puzzled over. She was not aware her own memories had been stolen once, long ago.

To protect everything, he had said all those years ago. I'm sorry it has to be this way. As she inhaled the stream of memory it became startlingly clear. I know, she replied. Just do it. The memory of iron being applied to a little spot just behind her ear, all the memories drawn to the spot by magic; it stung and burned. She sat coolly, surprising even herself that she could sit so calmly as the memories were siphoned away, placed in the little blue vial that now sat broken in her garden among the flowers that had sprouted from Dorothy's seeds. Warren will bring it back to you at the right time. Until then, you have to forget.

Warren smiled; his work in this task complete. He turned from Carabosse and started to leave her garden. "Where are his memories," she called after him.

He smirked over his shoulder. "You'll have to find those on your own. I was not in the know when they were hidden."

She sighed loudly, looked down to her feet in the tall grass. No doubt Mabb would beat her to the punch and kill the remaining council members who might know. When she looked up Warren was gone and the burden of memory had settled on her shoulders.

Tags: carabosse