The Day Carolyn LeFey Became Spider (A History)

[The Spider]

(Soon a log will be posted that speaks of the location and type of some of Spider's markings. I would like to tell the story of why she has them because they are not body art for visual purposes. This will also explain where the problems between her and Jamison began and why she calls herself Spider. Telling the story will take a few posts, thank you for reading.)

The day Carolyn LeFey nearly died inside was the same day she nearly made the Choice. It was a day before many others. Before the day of her trial before the White Council, before Jamison ceased taking her to visit her Mother Eolandeshide biannually, before her twentieth birthday. Before she became determined to make sure no lips knew how to speak her Name.

One day was the cause of that. And many other things still true about the woman who was now Spider.

Thomas Whiting was an up-and-coming Wizard. He was an American but as soon as he graduated St. Joseph's Prep he went abroad to find the man he idolized from a distance. Jamison LeFey. It was well-known in the community that the Warden wasn't accepting any new pupils at the time but Thomas was a typical American. Tenacious and relentless. He found out the Warden's favorite pubs and spent a bit of his savings on a glass of gin every night to nurse until closing. But the Warden never showed. He found out the Warden's address. But no matter how closely he followed the directions he couldn't find the dwelling. He made friends with any Wizards in the area that would talk to him. But when it came to Jamison LeFey they would not tell him very much nor did any of them agree to arrange a meeting.

Eleven months and six days passed and still he had yet to shake the hand of Warden LeFey. Thomas was down to his last pocketful of coin and come the first of April he would not be able to afford his room at the boarding house. It was when all was nearly lost that Fortune smiled on the American. An invitation was extended by a comrade who was a Wizard on the White Council to be his guest at a rare gathering of their kind. The meeting and reception were the result of a number of Werewolf related attacks and the keynote speaker was the expert in all matters Were-creature: Warden Jamison LeFey.

Watching the legend speak Thomas knew he could have no other fate. He would be this man's apprentice. He would find a way. After the speech, after the resulting Council debate on the best recourse to stop the growing number of attacks, there was a reception with food and drink. The Wizard who invited Thomas here also provided him with the thing the American yearned for most. An introduction. Thomas did not forget the Warden's handshake for as long as he lived. It was full of confidence and sophistication. A handshake not too long but not too short. Firm but not to the point where one might think he was trying too hard. Most of all when Thomas Whiting shook the Warden's hand he felt It. Power. A true Force To Be Reckoned With.

The American's throat was dry. The Warden had released his hand and was already turning to the next eager Wizard in the receiving line. If he did not speak now everything would be for naught. When he blurted out the question the words sounded piteous to his own ears. He stuttered, his pitch was far too green and his wording begged. Yet the famous Warden did not scoff or scorn him. Instead he turned back to the American and smiled. Even within the smile both modest and polite Thomas could see the wizened fount of knowledge that bubbled within. The reply, however. The words were swords that combined very nearly struck a death blow.

"I'm sorry, young Whiting. It is tradition that a Wizard devote the full of his attention to only one apprentice at a time and as progressive as I am in my ways I also know sharing is not in my daughter's temperament. Have you met my daughter? I will introduce you."

It happened so quickly. The conventionality of it would one day provide him with means for near-certain victory. Blessedly Province smiled upon him and face to face with the nineteen-year-old female LeFey he did not stutter.

"Thomas Whiting of Concord, New Hampshire. And you are?"
"Carolyn LeFey. You are a long way from home, Mr. Whiting. I hope you are enjoying your time here in Britannia."

It was March the twentieth in the year nineteen hundred and eight. As he kissed the soft silvery-pink knuckles of Jamison LeFey's changling child he knew. The way to win over the Warden was to win the heart of his only child.

[The Spider]

Carolyn Margrette LeFey was a brash and outspoken young lady for the times. Had she been born of any other family the brazenness would have had swift consequences.

The LeFey Wizards were always watched by the community but particular attention was paid to Carolyn for two reasons. One, most changelings made the Choice between their mortal half or their Fae half by the end of their teens. Carolyn was was nineteen and had not. Two, it was the year nineteen hundred and eight and for a female to not marry by the end of her teens was considered dishonorable. Carolyn was nineteen and had not. If her father was not Jamison LeFey there would have been more whispers regarding both topics. But even powerful Wizards believed Warden LeFey had ears that could hear through walls, doors and time.

Of the few whispers Thomas paid no mind. Other Wizards considered him warned. "That one gives not doting glances." Or, "That one accepts no trinkets or courtly acts." One of Jamison's comrades laughed at Thomas' inquiry. "There is a wise saying in our world, Whiting," said he, "Waste not thoughts on a changeling until they have made the Choice." Sound advice. If Carolyn chose her Fae half off to the Nevernever she would go and Thomas would be left behind. Yet this and all other bits of advice fell on deaf ears.

How could he leave her be? Carolyn was his only way to Warden LeFey. Those who dissuaded him did not see her signals. If she did not love him why did she accept his calling card daily and invite him into the LeFey drawing room for tea? If she did not love him why did she loan to him one of her Father's books? If she did not love him why would she ask the Warden to give him an allowance so he could remain in London when his own coffer ran dry? Bold flirtations for a woman he believed. Yet when he reached for her hand or uttered words with bawdy suggestions her kindness ran dry and immediately she retired and left his arousal cold.

A fortnight away from Midsummer Thomas Whiting finally realized what the problem was with Carolyn LeFey. The bitch was a tease who begged to be taught a lesson. Once this germ took root its truth consumed him. She was unmarried only because none were man enough to take command of her. He was. He would. She would feel his control and he would teach her about the proper love of a man. To give the wanton woman what was coming to her he needed time to prepare.

As he prepared his dreams filled with imaginings of the coming night. A further taunt to his already furious desire. In one such dream gold was struck. Waking in a cold sweat he could still see the dreamed lips of Carolyn forming the words. "Say my name. Say it and I'm yours." His elation was peaked and he wanted to yell with triumph. The Power of a Nmae was one of the oldest tenets of magic. If a Wizard spoke a name just as its owner spoke it from their own lips...

The decision was made. Come sunset he would do it. Come sunset she would learn. When she begged to show her gratitude - Thomas knew she would how could she not? - he would then command her to repay him with what he wanted all along.

For her to step aside as her Warden LeFey's apprentice and gift that honor to him. He had only a few short hours to prepare.

[The Spider]

(Politely written there is still an unpleasant act below)

The first of Carolyn's markings was beneath her navel and above her feminine flower. To ink one's body with permanent markings was very fashionable for all classes by nineteen hundred and eight and to be one who could render these markings was an admired profession.

If both patron and artist were men. Carolyn was not, and her artisan was not. Wilona Burchett's father was a man of great fame, the King of Tattooists. He was also a Wizard and like all Wizards he kept journals. About both of his crafts. As Wilona lived no more than an hour's stroll down the lane she and Carolyn were girlhood friends who knew each other's greatest secrets. Wilona's was that she read her father's journals and practiced body artistry on the willing kitchen maids in secret. It was to her that Carolyn went after this day.

Many things Carolyn did not remember about that day. Where she lay. How she got there. How it came to be that Thomas Whitmore was on top and inside of her. The enchantment he wove using her name wore off too soon to spare her the knowledge of what it felt like to be the American's claim. The humiliation was terrible but the full truth of the situation was worse.

Thomas Whiting had stripped her from top to toe. Not just garments. Every trinket, jewel and hairpin he'd pulled off and placed out of her reach. Jamison LeFey had taught his daughter well. So much of what simple humans thought were pretty baubles to make Carolyn's beauty better shine were more than that. Enchantments. Conduits. Items of Power. Whiting had suspected, removed them and now they were useless. Without them there was no strong magic that she could do.

This day she had to rely on other talents. Weave feminine magic until Thomas believed her sincere. Grace his lips with kisses and purr compliments about his cunning. It swelled his ego but his obsession with his aspirations had grown him sly. To prove loyalty to him the American demanded that she swear to abandon her position as Father's apprentice. She did her best to speak around the vow. He knew as well as she did that to do so was Fae cunning. That if she repeated the words as he spoke them to her she was bound to uphold their truth. He had her cornered and her stalling was losing what favor she'd gained. She spoke the words. Beginning with "I swear". From this day forward she could be Jamison LeFey's apprentice no longer. Carolyn remained always too ashamed to tell the Warden why.

It laid next to another secret she could not speak to Father: her truest heart loved women. Only with hurried, guilty kisses in seclusion amidst days where she chastely charmed men as was proper for her gender during this time. This day was the day she vowed to abandon that pretense. She would pander to men's whims no longer. Not even for her own survival.

Grabbing as much of her clothes and as many of her adornments that she could carry Carolyn fled the first time Whiting left the room. Outside she dressed and walked swiftly until she found a landmark she recognized. She plotted her course to Wilona Burchett's door. Her cherished confidante's help would ensure that Carolyn would never again need to rely on charm to keep safe her life.

The first was always the most painful. Wilona whispered this to her dear friend before sticking flesh with inky needle. Carolyn didn't feel the pain as pain. She felt it as magic. Channeling every ounce of shame, anger and injury into a chanted word. As the black would never wash clean of her body neither would the enchantment she wove into the design Wilona needled into her flesh. A ward to prevent any man from penetrating her ever again.

In this way on this day she shed the constraints of mannerly Carolyn, and became Spider LeFey.

[The Spider]

"Spiders are master weavers, weaving illusion, the life span, alphabets and languages and even magic. They teach us the magic of creation and how to use it to weave our own fates. They reflect the magic of assertion, reminding us that only by asserting and expressing our energies we are empowered. Spiders do not get caught in their own webs. They travel on the treads that form the spokes, moving directly out from the center of the web that are not sticky. This is a clear message. Do not deal with things in a roundabout fashion or you will get entangled. Be direct. Straightforward."*

Thomas Whiting was the last who would tangle Carolyn LeFey in a web that was not her own design. His actions taught a twofold lesson. Giving information about herself was a risk. An act of trust not to be taken lightly. The more painful of the education was that a trust when broken shattered things more precious than the trust itself.

It took Wilona two hours to ink the first web. During the time Carolyn extracted two promises from the artist. First that Wilona would never refer to her as anything but Spider again. Second that she would teach Spider the process of marking the body. Every web needled thereafter was done by Wilona or Spider's hand. Each served a different purpose. All were placed within the reach of Spider's fingers. In the beginning she needed to touch the design to put its magic to task. Relentless training replaced that need with visualization. The latter webs were placed within reach of her fingertips anyway. All but the two that grounded her. Their placement was the way she wanted it.

Twenty-four in total and varying shape and size. If another time came where she was stripped of everything but her own body she could not again be stripped of her power.

When the White Council first questioned her about the death of Thomas Whiting she had been Spider LeFey for seven months. Nine of webs were in place. The two on her inner wrists were freshly needled. Red and raw around the thin black lines. About these markings, their purpose and who had done them for her the Council questioned. They condemned these answers and all of her others as skirting. Used her ambiguity as a reason to detain and charge her. They made it known that should she not provide direct answers of her own volition they would exploit that she was a changeling. By asking twice more in order to compel her to disclose the full truth.

There Jamison LeFey took his stand. It was his duty to uphold the Laws of Magic as one of the Council's Wardens. To compel any creature was severely frowned upon. To compel a human or Wizard was crime. He applied pressure until the Council balked on their position that Spider as a changeling was not fully human or Wizard. The power of three was not used against her. The fact that she could speak without ambiguity that Thomas Whiting was not murdered by her hand was the leverage Jamison used to keep her from death.

From death, but not from punishment. That she was punished by him was something she never forgave. Part of said punishment was probation. Under his roof. Under his watch. Spider made it her duty to say things to him so spiteful he would suffer punishment too. Applying pressure through hatred in hopes he would shut her off in seclusion and leave her be.

He did not. Despite her vitriol his questions never ceased. Why was Thomas Whiting killed? By whose hand? Why would she no longer acknowledge her given name? Why did she refuse her position as his Apprentice? Why did she defame her body? Why wouldn't she accept his help? What crime had she suffered?

That question always drew her harshest replies. The irony of it was intolerable. It was the year nineteen hundred and nine and in the noble empire of England to force a woman sexually was not a crime. So why give voice to her shame? Thomas Whiting was dead by the hand of Summer Knight. Such a violation would never happen to Spider LeFey again.

"When prey gets caught, the orb-weaver spider quickly bites it and carries it to its retreat to be eaten. Anything inedible in the web the spider cuts out and drops to the ground. This reminds us to use our web to capture what we need and to not to hang on to that which we do not need."*





*Quoted from Animal-Wise by Ted Andrews

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