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The Freehold Hollow is quiet, but never more than during Winter itself, when snow thickly coats the ground of the small village much later than it does in the real. It isn't difficult to find the Winter Queen during her Season: she keeps court during the late afternoon and early evening almost every day in the Winter Crown's cottage. Outside it's cold, still in the part of March that comes in like a lion, but inside the cottage itself, flames crackle merrily in the fireplace. There's a gentle scent not unlike mulled wine, and a pot of jasmine tea has just been made. Is Jack expected, or is the Winter Crown's divinatory side just working overtime?
Marjorie, in her heavy, hooded robe, sits in her comfortable chair in front of the fireplace, slowly shuffling her tarot cards.
Jack is expected - the only way he could convince himself not to keep putting it off is by setting a date, otherwise he'd just leave well enough alone. So at precisely three minutes to the appointed time, there's a soft knock on the door before Jack slips in.
"I'm a little early, I hope that's okay." He rubs his hands together and shivers just inside the door for a moment, taking a little time to get accustomed to the change in temperature. There's a little bit of awkward formalness to his stance, it's possible he doesn't seek out the Freehold's monarchs on the regular.
"You are precisely when you were expected," assures Marjorie. It's pretty hard to sneak up on her, all things considered. Her face is entirely hidden within the heavy hood, but her tone has a smile in it, at least. "Please, have a seat. May I offer you tea?"
The Winter Queen is tiny. Doll-like. Whoever remade her made her tiny. Even with the robe, she can't be anywhere north of five feet tall.
"Tea's great, yeah, thanks." He nods and takes off his leather jacket before sinking into the offered chair with a sigh of relief. The faint scent of an oncoming spring rainstorm follows him to his seat, and the charcoal scrawls of his mien blend into the shadows cast by the fire.
"Thanks for seeing me on short notice, I hope Winter's been going well for you?"
She attends carefully to pouring tea; the jasmine tea blossoms inside the glass teapot, and after she pours two mugs, she gestures to them with one small hand in offer. He may choose which mug he prefers: some Lost have Rituals around food, and the Winter Crown isn't going to be the one who forces a certain choice on someone.
"Winter is Winter," the Queen offers somewhat cryptically. "It has its concerns and its moments, and soon enough, I shall rest."
"How may I serve?"
Jack picks the one closest to him and takes a small sip, testing the temperature. Then he holds it in his hands, his brow slightly creased in thought.
"Well I'd like...a card reading, about...a complicated situation. I've got - my sister, my twin sister, we've...grown apart, I guess is the best way to describe it? It started before my time Over There, and we've kind of made up, but..." He rubs his face. "We knew what each other was thinking, when we were kids, and I know we can't get that back, but I...I guess I wanna know what is possible, given...everything that's happened. Is that too complicated, I've never really done this before..." he's the type to start to ramble when he's nervous, it seems.
She sits entirely still, cradling the mug of jasmine tea between her tiny fingers, listening as Jack speaks. And then she takes in a long, slow breath, letting it out through her nose. A small sip of the jasmine tea midway through his rambling explanation, and she sets the mug aside. Those diminutive hands reach up to slide her hood back, which -- if Jack has not seen her face before, and it's unlikely that he has -- might explain why she stays shrouded unless she feels it necessary to uncover her face.
Marjorie's Presence and her appearance are like a punch directly to the senses; she's got the sort of perfectly-crafted face that seems like it should come with a trumpet flourish and a heavenly voice crying FEAR NOT! Her eyes are crafted from shimmering emeralds, her skin porcelain, glowing from within, with legal texts flowing over her cheeks and up through her forehead, floating just beneath her skin's surface.
She takes that deck of cards she'd been shuffling, black with gold details, and hold them out to Jack. The only thing she says is: "Shuffle."
Jack's face stays impressively calm, when Marjorie reveals hers, though he takes in a small and surprised breath. A half grin starts to grow on his face after a moment, but he seems to think twice about whatever off-the-cuff quip he was going to make and instead just nods, and takes the cards.
He fumbles a little, shuffling as well as he can, and then offers them back to Marjorie.
Her expression is calm, and curious, watching him as he shuffles. They don't say anything, not when he almost quips, and not when he shuffles. This is Work, and it's something that Marjorie takes very seriously. Her face is an implacable mask.
Taking back the cards, she draws the top one, flipping it over onto the table in front of her. "The Heart of the Matter. What is the main issue at hand? The focal point of the reading is The Emperor." She presses her lips together thoughtfully. "The Emperor is a stern authority figure -- he may represent an actual person, or the concept of wisdom and understanding hard-won through living. He signals structure, stability, and the rule of thought over the heart."
"The Challenge." And then they lay a card cross-wise on top of the Emperor. "What are the forces opposing you in resolution of your issue? What must you overcome?" A pause, and she lets out a small sigh. "The Ten of Swords. Disaster strikes when one least expects it -- it is swift and unavoidable. Something here is beyond your control, leaving you feeling as though you are a victim of circumstance."
He grimaces at her explanation of the second card. "Sounds about right, yeah. On a couple different levels."
The smile that she gives him then is sympathetic. The cards are not kind; they are only truthful, says her expression.
"Unconscious," Marjorie continues, laying a card at the foot of the Emperor. "How do you really feel about the matter? What are some possible hidden emotions which may be affecting you?" A pause. "The Eight of Swords." Another pause as they look at the woman bound, surrounded by eight swords. "The woman in the card is restrained. Trapped. And she does not see a way out. But these feelings of helplessness are actually one caused by a belief in one's own victimization; a learned helplessness."
"Past." And here's a card that anyone who's ever seen any Tarot deck is familiar with. "What attitudes, feelings or beliefs in past events have shaped your current situation?" The Fool is set down to one side of the Emperor. "The Fool is a blank slate, a representation of purity and innocence; a child who knows nothing of the world. New journeys are signaled, and the fool is full of exuberance and energy. He does not understand the dangers which may beset him during his travels, and thus stumbles forward with complete optimism, never suspecting that he may be walking on a thin tightrope."
When she mentions hidden emotions, his the creases on his forehead deepen, and when she suggests what they might be, he shifts in the chair, clearly uncomfortable with the truth.
"Not subtle, are they?" He sniffs out a nervous laugh.
"They are precisely as subtle as they are required to be. For some people, they are more subtle. For some, they act like a crowbar to the face, because those people might not listen to anything less subtle, or might deny the truths revealed." At that, the Winter Queen's eyebrow arches up, and they lay another card.
"Conscious. How are you viewing the situatiuon? What are some assumptions, convictions or beliefs you have about the situation or the reading?" A subtle snap of a card on the table. "Nine of Cups."
"An environment of luxury and emotional stability where all available comforts await you. Indulging the joys that life has to offer you is signaled here, though at times there may be a sense of smugness which comes from taking your situation for granted."
She does not pause, but turns another card. "Future. What are some influences coming in the future which affect how you perceive this situation? What is a developing concern you are having?"
"The Empress." The next card revealed. "She is the symbol of the feminine principle. Not necessarily a woman, though often a woman. Sometimes a symbol of the concept of femininity. She is nurturing, fertile, and a provider. Perhaps a mother figure."
"A mother figure?" Jack raises his eyebrows with a quiet scoff.
She shrugs slightly. "The cards are very binary. It might be a person of another gender who takes on the mothering role. Your Crown, perhaps, or another figure in your life, or simply the concept of mothering, the concept of femininity. How does that factor into your relationship with your sister? Was she your caregiver, once? Were you hers? Does your relationship with the concept of womanhood figure into your relationship with your sister?"
"Only you can interpret that. Do not take the cards only at surface level, Jack. You do them -- and me -- a disservice."
The Winter Queen turns another card. "The Querent. How are you approaching the problem? How are your beliefs, fears, and perception of yourself affecting how this situation turns out?"
"Page of Wands. You are on the brink of a new creative project and vision. A spirit of discovery and enthusiasm in all kinds of ideas which you might have about the future. It is the start of a new way of expressing oneself."
Another card. "The Environment. What is the climate surrounding this situation? This is the playing field from which you must operate." They pause, there. "The Hermit." And then her emerald eyes glance at the Fool, earlier in the reading, and one corner of her mouth curves up subtly before she goes on. "A time for self-reflection, this is the soul's journey inward. The hermit seeks the ultimate truth, and understands that it comes from within, only after a period of self-isolation from the demands of the world."
He settles back into quietness, nodding slowly at the Page of Wands. And then..."Sure is difficult to set up that sort of environment, the world being how it is..." But his voice is a quieter, less obviously sarcastic.
Her look at him is brief and understanding, but she does not pause. "Hopes and Fears. What do you hope, or fear, most about this situation?"
The card she turns over next is The Lovers. "A union of harmony, full of trust, confidence, and strength. This relationship is one which represents a deep emotional bond more than any physical connection." Which is probably good when one is talking about one's sister, just saying. "It could also represent an inner harmony between the two aspects of one's being: anima and animus. yin and yang. Mask and Mien."
One more card. "Outcome." The card is laid in place. "The Ten of Wands." She considers this card for a moment. "The Ten of Wands indicates you've been working extremely hard to bring something to fruition. At the end of that journey, however, you find yourself overburdened, too heavy with the responsibility which you created for yourself, and which you took on yourself."
She sits back in her chair, and reaches for her somewhat-cooled tea.
"I...I feel like I should be taking notes, or something." There's that nervous laugh again, and he takes a sip of his own tea. "That's...and I mean I still don't really know...what I'm supposed to do, with all this? Besides a lot of fucking thinking."
"A lot of fucking thinking," Marjorie answers, letting the warmth seep into her tiny hands from her mug of jasmine tea. "Talk to people you trust, make decisions, and move forward. Work through your issues in your dreams, if you need to." She begins clearing the cards, shuffling them back together. "I assume that what the cards had to say meant something to you, from your reaction. You, and only you, can make the decision on what it means, and what you must do."
"Most of 'em, yeah. Like you said, kind of a crowbar to the face in some places. I think it was helpful?" He does sound more confused, than anything, and he finishes his cup of tea. "Thanks, also."
A small tip of her head to one side. "I hope it was helpful." It isn't Marjorie's job, from her tone, to make the cards make sense to Jack. She only has to read them. "Of course. It was my pleasure." She reaches for her hood, pulling it back up and concealing her face once more.
"Figure if any of it doesn't make sense now, it will eventually." He stands and tugs on his coat. "Hopefully not in hindsight. Have a good night." He sets the cup down on the table and gives her a small wave before he walks back out into the snow.
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