magicianking | open post: further up and further in

Eliot hasn't been depressed, per se, because it's sort of impossible to be depressed in Fillory. There's too much to do, these days: rebuilding Castle Whitespire, helping Josh and Poppy with the baby, and generally trying to run a post-apocalyptic-but-now-pretty-much-fine magical kingdom. Being High King of Fillory is, not to be totally cliche, Eliot's calling, and he's found a peace that he never had before. But it still sucks absolute balls that both Quentin and Janet are gone.

When Janet had first disappeared, Eliot had devoted all of his kingly resources to trying to find her. None of their world-jumping buttons had been missing, so he'd promised a knighthood and a castle to anyone in Fillory who found the missing Queen Janet.

"She won't love being treated like a damsel in distress like this," Poppy had told him.

"Well, if you have a better idea," he'd snapped, and that had been that, until a letter had arrived in the gazing pool. It had been frustratingly contextless, but obviously from Janet.

"Where is she?" Josh asked at the next meeting of the monarchs.

"I don't know. She's trapped, but she seems more annoyed than in danger."

"So she's in another universe? Since she had to use your telegram thing?" Poppy asked.

"Seems likely."

All of them had lapsed into silence.

"Should we call off the Queen hunt? Some of them are getting a little Don Quixote out there," said Poppy.

"No," Eliot had decided. "Just in case." Damsel in distress, Janet was not; but hell if he would ever be the one to give up on finding her.

--

Eliot's on his way to check on the progress of Castle Whitespire, wandering up the path from the comfortable townhouse he's been staying in, when the ground changes abruptly beneath his feet. He stumbles, and when he looks up--Dorothy, he is not in magical Kansas any more. Not in Oz any more? Whatever. The energy of wherever he is is totally different. He doesn't think it's Earth, either, despite the fact that he's in front of a huge Earth-style mansion.

"What the fuck," he mutters, and opens the door.

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"Now that I've been here, I bet I can help Josh with it. He's the other King of Fillory. Kind of a doofus, but he's amazing with portals."

"I'm afraid you will have to explain 'doofus' as well."

"Oh, you know. Kind of dumb, in a well-meaning way."

Susan hums. "I see."

"What kind of thing did you call people in the fifties?" Eliot asks. "Since everything I say seems to be way more modern than I thought."

"Generally I just use their names," says Susan. "Unless it's someone truly insufferable, in which case I call them insufferable. And I couldn't speak to the fifties. I left four months into the decade."

"I couldn't make it in the forties, if that's true," Eliot says. "Everyone can't just be insufferable. I need variety."

"I'm sure there's plenty of variety. I don't engage with it."

"Maybe you aren't right for Janet, then. She needs to talk shit for a minimum of six hours a day or she becomes very unwell." Eliot smiles to show he's joking.

Susan is unimpressed! "Hm," she says, noncommittal.

"It's not up to me, though. I'm technically her king but that hasn't made her listen to any of my advice at any point."

"I am familiar with the role of a high king," says Susan, primly. "And I assure you that I'm more than capable of meeting Janet's needs."

Eliot's not sure what pissed Queen Susan off, but whatever. He's never been all that close to Janet's lovers, anyway. Dating's something they talk about and commiserate over, but it's always felt like a distant second priority to what really matters, which is their friendship.

"Of course you are," he says mildly. "At least you aren't some emotionally unavailable older man."

"One must count one's blessings."

"I am surprised I haven't met a man like that here yet."

Susan hums noncommittally. She's not certain she wants to mention Sagramore - she can see why Eliot and Janet are best friends, but she isn't confident that he won't make some comment about Janet's type that she won't care to hear, and anyway, that seems the sort of story Janet ought to be the one to tell. And anyway, the issue with Sagramore wasn't, from what she can tell, his emotional availability, so it isn't as if he strictly fits the description.

Susan's shutting up tighter than a cold jar of pickles, and Eliot wants to put her at ease again.

"So... what would you change about this place, if you could change anything? Besides being able to leave."

Primly, Susan says, "I've got no interest in leaving, and I have this place well in hand."

Eliot's going to have to whack her against the counter, metaphorically. "Sure, totally. I'm talking more about, like, fantasies. Nice-to-haves."

"...I suppose I might a greater level of enthusiasm from the general public when it comes to participation in community events," says Susan; everything else she can think of is material and therefore accessible with enough elbow grease.

"Got a bunch of introverts or something?"

"No," says Susan.

"Then what's the problem?"

"I don't believe introversion has got a great deal to do with enthusiasm and participation," says Susan, who has, of course, read a great deal of the original Jung. "You asked what I would change. I produced an answer."

"I'm just trying to make conversation. I hope people get more enthusiastic for you." Eliot himself is getting less enthusiastic.

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