Lavender Mongfish - Jen M

When Lavender was born the whispers of Pyria sang in the lavender fields, hence her name. She has always been fascinated with things most people can't quite hear, and things they can't quite see, and approaches metamagiphysics and Vitamancy in roughly the same way, looking for pan/trans/multidimensional explanations of the dead and undead, especially regarding their influences and legacies on and to the physical world. She grew up with a reputation as an uber-swot with no thoughts for anything except outsmarting her brother Brian, but seems to have lost some of that acuity, especially when around or under the influence of charismatic, devoted or distinguished men/students/etc., despite having none of the social skills or indeed graces that many other women seem to have around men.

Brian alleges he can identify several stages of his sister's infatuations, but won't let anyone see his notes….


Notes by Caroline Pentworth for her thesis entitled ‘The Life and Loves of Lavender Mongfish?’

She married Chad who she met at university. Looks like they really met during the ‘incident’ so must have been a whirlwind romance. That said they didn’t actually get married until a few years later but ‘whirlwind romance’ looks better on paper. I’m still not sure where Carpenter and Hunter fit into all of this. I’m sure she was seeing one or both of them before (my research indicates a whole string of lovers) but she just seems to have dropped them entirely after meeting Chad. It just doesn’t make sense…

She was off the University grounds the day the world tree appeared! She and two others (Prince Theordore and someone called ‘Kel’) apparently snuck out of the University. Reports show that the Battle Dragon went missing that evening but there was no sign of a struggle and only a small number of people could have coaxed it out without getting toasted. I’d bet my left arm she was involved in it… but I need more than that if I’m going to include it. Bugger.

Screw it, I’m including it anyway. I bet Prof. Carpenter knows its true anyway and just isn’t telling me!

Just found out that she spent a lot more time in Tosat during the reforms than initially thought. I mean, sure she did all the public stuff but there are reports of a distractingly stylish masked lady dressed in black and purple (lavender?) roaming the streets setting wrongs right and finding information that only the dead could tell… post life studies anyone? Lavender was an expert in it. Now… it looks like she had an accomplice on these journeys and by the very lack of information about him I suspect Sermon. (what? It’s a perfectly rational theory and not at all based on sketchy information and hunches). I bet they were ‘A Thing’! I mean, a woman of her reputation on missions filled with thrill and danger with another man? Come on! This stuff is gold dust! This will be a fantastic discovery for my thesis.

Damn. Theory blown out of the water. Sermon and Lavender were never ‘a thing’. I explained my theories to Prof. Carpenter and he handed me a letter written by Sermon… meticulous attention to detail that man… mentions the fact that Chad never left him hanging over a crocodile pit by his ankles for hitting on his wife… I need a new focus for my thesis.


Fic written by Jen

From The Magic Horror Portal Show:

Chad: Lavvie?

Lavender: Yes, Chad?

Chad: I’ve got something to say.

Lavender: …uh-huh?

Chad: I really like the…skillful way your portal spell can save the day.

Lavender: Oh. Oh, Chad…

(the string section goes mad)

Chad: The load was huge but I travoised.

House Chimera: Lavvie.

Chad: The monsters were hard; I used savvy

House: Lavvie

Chad: So please, don’t think that I’m chavvy

House: Lavvie

Chad: If I say Savvy, Lavvy? I love you…. Your strike to my heart I can’t parry

House: Lavvie

Chad: You’re as loyal as Rikki TIkki Tavi

House: Lavvie

Chad: If I lost you I’d swear like a navvy

House: Lavvie

Chad: Because Savvy, Lavvie? I love you.

Lavvie: Oh, Chad!

Chad: Oh, Lavvie!

Lavvie: I’m mad.

Chad: Heyyy, savvy!

Lavvie: For you.

Chad: Oh, right. I love you too.

Both: There’s one thing left to do…

*fade to black*

*furniture complains*

An excerpt from Who’s Who in Rista:

Duke Chadwick Rocquel (formerly Sir), Duke of Pereval. Once a wizard, sacrificed his magic for the safety of his family. Skilled at outdoor pursuits. Married Lavender Mongfish of Pyria, sorceress of no mean note, reformer. Children: eldest Chadwick, male, heir to Duchy. Middle child Brian, male, dragon rider, heir apparent to title and estates in Pyria. Youngest Theodosia (“Theo”), student sorceress, apprentice battle magician.

In the hinterlands of the world, a dragon is silhouetted against the sky. If you could peer closely, which you could only do if you, too, were on dragonback, you could see three figures on its back, one smaller than the other two, who are much of a size.

“Kel, stop squirming.”

“I’m sorry! The beans are afraid of heights!”

Two voices, one male, one female, sound simultaneously: “Dude, you brought beans?” and “Aren’t they supposed to stay in the University?”

Kel mutters something defensive about ambassadorial rights. The dragon flies on.

Many, many miles from any civilisation, even the ones of the people of the earth, the dragon begins to circle. “Here?” asks Lavender.

“Wait a minute,” replies Theo, who closes his eyes, mentally reaching for the music he heard once upon a time—the music he chases on dragonback; the music of the worlds. At last, he hears a faint, chiming echo. “Yes,” he says. “here.”

Lavender takes a seed the size of her head out of her rucksack. She and Kel join hands and dually incant the words of their spell. There is a blurring of perspective as the seed simultaneously rushes away and to. Then, far below, the world-tree grows. This far away, it will be accessible only by dragonback and travel magic.

Cooool,” three voices say in unison. Theo gestures and the dawn starts to sing.


Someone stirs. “Ow. Theo?”

Theo groans. “MMMppphhharggh.”

Lavender yelps. “That was my…well, it was jolly uncomfortable.” Theo snorts. Lavender quickly hurries on. “What exactly happened?”

Theo, sadly finding her hard to pinpoint in the darkness now, starts to explain. “Well, you know the thing about dragons?”


“The thing about dragons is, you sort of steer them by persuading them that where you want to go is really interesting.”


“It saw a portal it was even more interested in.”

A dragon snores quietly in the darkness.

There is a brief silence, and then Lavvie speaks. “If I miss my anthropology viva because of this and get a B, you are so not forgiven. And I’m sending a message to Chad right now, telling him what’s happened.”

“To where, and from where?” asks Theo.

Another pause. “OK. We are sending a message to Chad now. We haven’t used our link yet.”

“Couldn’t we just…?”

Lavvie’s voice is always kind, but it’s then he knows that he’s lost her, despite the quick hug that comes from nowhere. “No. I’m sorry, Theo.”

There’s always a party somewhere in Tosat (and always somebody mourning). Two figures meet in the shadows. “Is it done?” asks one.

“Yes,” replies the other. “Done and disposed of. Lord Vandemar won’t bother us any more.”

“One of these days these bloody nobles’ll be able to arrange things for themselves.”

“And not go through expendable us? Not bloody likely.”

Two sets of footsteps walk away.

Two sighs come from the shadows they’ve left. “I wish we weren’t always just too late,” sighs a female voice.

“There’s late and then there’s late,” responds a male voice. “With your magic, nothing is late.”

“It is for Lord Vandemar, until we manage to arrange rights for the sentient deceased and incorporeals,” replies the woman’s voice softly. A portal opens further into the darkness and the two voices step through, into Pereval, and a richly but tastefully-decorated study with a scrying pool in the centre. The woman’s arms reach across it and the soft voice begins chanting.

“Wait,” says Sermon. “What is that you’re wearing?”

“It’s a gauntlet. I thought it was appropriate.”


“It’s lavender.”

“Oh. No Wilberforce?”

“No Wilberforce. Just…you know, thematic.”

“Where did you get it?”

“I am Duchess, Sermon,” says Lavender, and resumes her chanting.

“Which reminds me,” interrupts Sermon. “Not that I couldn’t handle an inter-duchy incident, but it would detract from other matters if I did. If you’re to continue in Tosat, your Grace…”


“If you’re to continue in Tosat, Lavender,” continues Sermon, conceding slightly, “you’ll have to do so in a way that doesn’t broadcast your identity.” He looks pointedly at the lavender gauntlet.

Lavvie is crestfallen for all of two minutes. “Oh! I could have a really, really dark purple one made up, that looks black! And wear a mask, and things!”

“You could,” admits Sermon slowly, thinking it would be easier if she didn’t, but her portals really were very useful, and it was, after all, for great justice. “But perhaps,” he says, knowing for once a mortal moment, “if you wore less distracting clothes?”

Lavvie frowns. “My clothes never distract me! I’m used to working in long skirts!”

Sermon finds he can not go through with that particular correction. “Erm…you have a…distinctive style. Recognisable.”

Lavvie looks mulish—or rather, like a kitten trying to look mulish. “We’ll be beige. And we were both trained extensively by General Fortimas.”

“General Fortimas always advised to pay attention to detail,” opines Sermon.

“True,” Lavvie says thoughtfully. “And she is generally right about things. Anyway, Lord Vandermar!” and she stretches her hands over the pool and begins to speak with him.

Sermon takes some time, during the questioning, to reflect on the fact that he is not running around with the Duchess behind the Duke's back. He knows this, because Lavvie is fiercely loyal and tells Chad everything she thinks matters. He knows it because he has watched, sometimes repeatedly, men make passes at Lavvie and Lavvie not notice, so even should he be so inclined, which he is not, it would be of no use. He knows it because Chad has not broken his neck, nor left him hanging by a weakening fingernail over certain death. All told, things are good.

Some hours later, Lavvie and Sermon know what happened to Lord Vandemar, and why. Through the small hours of the morning rings the shout of “For great justice!” followed by a hand clap.

The butler on duty that night reflects to himself that although the Duchess was bidding fair, he did wish she and her friends would stop doing that in the palace.

bio/lavender_mongfish.txt · Last modified: 2011/09/21 22:22 by elliew
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