Welcome to Charming, where swirling petticoats, the language of flowers, and old-fashioned duels are only the beginning of what is lying underneath…
After a magical attempt on her life in 1877, Queen Victoria launched a crusade against magic that, while tidied up by the Ministry of Magic, saw the Wizarding community exiled to Hogsmeade, previously little more than a crossroad near the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. In the years that have passed since, Hogsmeade has suffered plagues, fires, and Victorian hypocrisy but is still standing firm.
Thethe year is now 1895. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.
Complete a thread started and set every month for twelve consecutive months. Each thread must have at least ten posts, and at least three must be your own.
Did You Know?
Did you know? Jewelry of jet was the haute jewelry of the Victorian era. — Fallin
Words overwhelm and fail me in equal measure. We have charted our own course from the beginning. We have set our own laws and respected no authority but our own desires. It is the most enviable state of nature and, whenever I wake to glorious sight of you beside me, I reaffirm my allegiance to this perfection. I have allowed such pleasing things to distract me from the inevitable and now I have no other choice but to address the threat to our peaceful days.
While the summer brought us freedom, the encroaching autumn means my submission to something far less agreeable than your affections. As much as I wish it avoidable, we must speak about my returning to teaching. There is still much I have hesitated to say, but now the delay mocks me. Do you know what the sight of you does to my spirits? Can you taste the depth of my adoration in my kisses? Do you feel it in my touch? How I wish I could show you; words are a poor substitute.
to the flame of my desire and the light of my heart,
Words overwhelm and fail you? I pity your poor confused tongue. Come see me and I can give it more useful employment than stumbling over epithets. (though the words you did find were exquisite).
In all seriousness, my darling, you need not be so maudlin about the passing of the season. I was yours before the school year ended and I will be yours again after it begins. Do you worry that a month apart from you will cause me to lose my appetite for your company? If so you have no idea how dependent I have become on your presence. A month, six months, a year of absence could only serve to make my passion for you burn all the stronger. A wanderer stranded in the desert does not forget the taste of cool water for the lack of it, but desires it all the more until the need for it consumes him. So I shall be with you — pining for your lips, your hands, your hips, your eyes in every moment you are apart from me.
My dearest temptation, heart of my joy, and light of my soul
You are a devious man to mock me with so pleasurable a hobby when we are apart (I will be thrilled to demonstrate, my dearest, when next I have you in my arms).
If there is power in the written word, then you have mastered it or, perhaps, you've learned to read my thoughts already. You were mine. You will be mine. You are mine. If I must survive on words alone, these will sustain me until I am returned to you. These will be my oasis in the wild; your passion, the torch in the dark. You are with me. Oh, Caro mio, your gifts will guide my thoughts to you in every breath, in every kiss of gem on skin.
May the words in your hand remind you of my desire to be at your side. Every quill stroke a caress I intend for you. May they guide you back to me again before I go. Tell me you intend to have what is yours again before we test the power of absence.
You insult me with the question. I count twenty-one days from tonight until the beginning of September. Do I intend to have you? Of course. As often as our bodies and our social calendars allow. Tonight, if you so choose — come visit me. And if for whatever reason you cannot come in person, send your whispered words to keep me warm in your absence.
Charmed to only speak for him, the letter will read itself in a warm tone he may recognize from any night she’s gone to his bed.
10 August 1891
My dear insulted heart,
Never have I been so eager to make amends. Perhaps I shall learn my lesson more fully if you require my apology in deeds in place of words - dearly hope you do. Your certainty delights me, but you must remember, I have a habit of counting things myself. Between your estate and my home, there are many rooms we have yet to thoroughly explore, a number exceeding twenty-one, I am certain. I wonder, my adventurer, where you will first claim your prize. What door will you pass and remember as the first place you could taste your given name on my lips? Where will you take a nightly brandy and remember the color of eyes that burn for you? How long before silk and velvet remind you of the same discarded at your command?
You underestimate what you awaken in me. There is no number of nights, no strength of body that can match my desire for your company. My darling, it requires considerable strength of will to remain out of reach even now. You say tonight, but until then, I will think of you and how I rejoice in being yours.
Angelica
P.S. You may keep my words for warmth. I will settle for a bath with the memory of your presence.
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