Felicities Musings

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a fan-fiction I created based on the character of Felicity, from the Great and Terrible Beauty trilogy. I always thought she was a more complex/interesting character then the main protagonist in the story. This is basically her musings on several aspects of her life.

Submitted: May 13, 2008

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Submitted: May 13, 2008

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She wasn't quite sure if it was a tree root or a wayward rock that causes her to fall, but before she had time to regain her balance she was been pitched face-first into a disgusting assortment of mud, leaves, and twigs. "Blast!" she cursed, wondering for the hundredth time why Gemma wanted to meet her in the cave tonight.

Using her hands to push herself up she managed to fall back on her bottom, hopelessly staining the other side of her skirt. Mrs. Nightwing would be livid. Serves her right, Felicity thinks. Who in the bloody hell would make the uniforms of schoolgirls solid white? A small voice in the back of her head reminds her that most headmistresses of one of the most prestigious boarding school in all of London wouldn't expect their pupils to be out, stumbling around the woods in the middle of the night. But Felicity merely pushed this thought aside, as she did with all other disagreeable things.

Standing up, she surveyed the stains with satisfaction; while they might lose her fifty good conduct marks that she didn't have anyway, they would probably serve to make the elderly housekeeper fly off the handle. This past term had been so dull that one less dress was a small price to pay for the entertainment.

Felicity knew that Ann, the other girl who was to meet them tonight, had most likely only just now entered the woods; that is, assuming she'd mustered up the nerve to come at all. Felicity loved Ann dearly, but she sometimes wondered if the offer of eternal beauty was the only thing that would get Ann to grow a backbone. Ann’s rare bursts of rebelliousness usually come at the worst possible time, guaranteeing a rather amusing problem for Gemma or a sorely taxing lie on Felicity's part. Sometimes, she mused, talking to Ann was like explaining a rather difficult problem to a surly pupil.

A deer was somewhere nearby, it's spindly legs snapping twigs frantically as it ran from an invisible foe. The sound took Felicity back to another freezing British night when she led two of her friends through these same woods and made her first kill outside of the realms. She had thought it would make her feel strong. She had thought killing something more helpless than her in exchange for power would be gratifying. Instead it had only made her feel even more helpless as things quickly spiralled out of control. She had hated Gemma that night, possibly more than ever before.

No, I’m exaggerating, she thought to herself. The only person besides herself that she felt more than the mildest dislike for was miles away, probably sitting in his study of their family home, drinking his whiskey and smoking his cigars. Felicity tried to suppress the onslaught of painful memories…cold rough hands on her legs, a heavy weight above her-her muffled, quiet cries…

"Stop it, Fee," she told herself sharply, as if she could command her own mind as easily as she commanded almost everyone else. She forced herself to think of happier things, things which didn’t hurt so much Slender, milky fingers laced through hers as they both ran laughing through the fields of flowers- Tears stung her eyes as she remembered that last wonderful afternoon spent with Pip, but she brushed them away furiously. Proper young women don't cry unless they have been jilted by a suitor or if they're in a delicate condition. Felicity had never cared about these silly traditions before, but now seemed like a good time to start. Now they might protect her instead of hinder her.

Her thought turned to the Indian boy Gemma was so taken with, and she has to hold back a snort of disdain. In his own way Kartik was certainly attractive, but for Gemma to think that he was trustworthy enough to bring into the realms was completely unreasonable. He was Indian, for one thing, and who knew who he was still reporting back to. And of course there was the matter of him being male. No one of that sex is trustworthy. Give them an inch and they will take a mile's worth of liberties. Felicity had seen it happen enough times to weaker girls than Gemma Doyle, who, in Felicities quiet opinion, was still much too pliable for her own good.

Her thoughts stray to Gemma, the one girl who knew Fee better then anyone. Neither of them had ever mentioned that evening at Felicity's house where Gemma had stumbled upon a secret still too raw to be acknowledged by either of them. Felicity chose not to because if she pretended no one else knew, she could almost imagine that she herself had no recollection of what happened to her during the first twelve years of her life. She suspected that Gemma said nothing both because she was too good-hearted to intentionally cause her friend any pain and because she had no idea what to say. After all, Generals aren't supposed to behave that way towards their daughters. And it was her fault. Felicity knew that it was. She brought out the worst in people. "What are you saying, Felicity? Are you suggesting that your father would behave towards you - would touch you - would - you dreadful, dreadful girl! How dare you say such things?" Her mothers disbelieving voice echoed around her head.

It took even longer to banish the phantom voices back to the deepness of her mind this time. She allowed herself a rare moment of raw bitterness and wished that for just once it was everyone else who brought out the worst in her - that it was Mrs. Nightwing and her mother and the whole of the male gender who were responsible for her defiance. That it was Simon who was responsible for her misleading advances, and that Cecily and Elizabeth and Martha were to blame for her cruelty. It was tiring always being in the wrong.


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