Light & Dark Discourses: Indulgence
Sep. 12th, 2004 11:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sparkindarknessDing breakthrough time! A minor one! I knew these discourses would help. I have a fragment of what it means to be of one court or the other at last (beyond the constant ‘for FREEDOM’ ‘for ORDER’ propaganda), even if it did take hours of the two faerie boys rambling at each other to get it.
This may revise if either one turn round and say something that invalidate the whole thing, but I think I got this bit.
Unseelie: the whole exists to focus on the self. The whole is there so the self can focus on and reach it’s own potential. The self is what’s important. The self is why the whole exists – to provide tools to allow that self to develop.
Seelie: The self should serve the whole. Individuals are important, but the grand design is more so. The self must be subservient to the whole, the needs of the whole and to protect the whole. The self must never damage the whole, because it is more important and more valuable.
The water gave off a constant haze of thick fragrant steam. Rich, expensive oils slicked the surface with a rainbow sheen and added their cloying scents to the humid air. Braziers filled the air with a thick, aromatic smoke. It hinted of exotic climes, distant spices and decadent indolence in halls of luxury across the world. The scent seemed to heat the inside of the body as much as the hot, soothing water did the outer skin. Candles were the only source of light in the room; thick pillar candles squat and heavy. Tall ivory candles seeming to stretch impossibly thin and tall to the ceiling. Despite the flickering flames the light was not dim – a thousand crystals had been scattered artlessly around the room, well interspaced with mirrors and a reflective ceiling seemingly made from one giant multi-faceted diamond. The soft light seemed to flow from every direction, split with glowing fractures of light and populated by relaxed, indolent shadows that moved lazily in the warm air.
Wooden trays floated across the surface of the water. Each remained stable undisturbed no matter what disturbed the glass like surface of the water. Each platter had been artfully prepared with a perfectly beautiful selection of expensive treat. A tall bowl of only the plumpest, sweetest strawberries floated past, unerringly orbited by three smaller bowls, one of thick double cream, one overflowing with a mound of whipped cream and one with a rich dark chocolate lapping slowly at the bowl’s rim. It passed a long tray, the centre of which was covered with an array of cheeses from every corner of the world, rimmed by a dozen different crackers. Ice buckets filled with old and expensive wines bobbed past, followed faithfully by crystal glasses filled with fire from the soft light. A box, miraculously protected from damp, filled with the finest British chocolates, battered aside a Belgian counterpart to ensure its delicious contents were the ones that were noticed.
Ilatheril grinned at the Seelie from one side of the huge bathtub, absently flicking one damp lock of hair out of his eyes. He picked up a strawberry, dipping it in the double cream and ate it slowly, savouring every small bite. He allowed himself to sink deeper in the water as he concentrated on every delicate nuance of the flavour, on how it was altered by the rippling fumes of the incense, the scented candles and the perfumed oils all round him. He marvelled at the contrast between the nearly ice cold cream and the steaming water. Finally he swallowed with a sensuous sigh of one lost in true melting pleasure. He paused to drink just a sip from one of the floating glasses loving how the sweet, almost too sweet, wine fit so well with the strawberries. He decided to test this, plucked another strawberry from the iced bowl, dipped it in the wine and popped it into his mouth for one crunching bite. Almost… he sank a little lower in the water as he shut down all senses but taste. Almost. He jerked up, plucked another strawberry, dipped it in the roiling dark chocolate, dipped it in the wine then put it decisively in his mouth.
Sitharensor watched in amusement from the other side of the marble bathtub as the Unseelie seemed to melt beneath the water, making small, almost animal, sounds of pleasure.
Ilatheril emerged slowly to watch his husband across the water. The Seelie had a cracker covered in a sharp blue cheese in one hand and a sickly, sweet chocolate from the warring boxes in the other. Ilatheril grimaced, but decided not to comment. Instead he nodded to the warring boxes. “Got a problem with Belgian chocolates?”
Sitharensor sighed expansively, sliding down into the water as he finished his cracker and picked up a bobbing glass that gravitated to his hand. For a moment he just admired the flow of light through the crystal as it danced downwards onto the sheen of the water, before draining the sharp wine. A perfect match to the cheese that still left its tang in his mouth and the chocolate that raised above all of it, even higher for the sharp beginnings. “I always ask for Belgian chocolate. It has such a reputation. And I am always so terribly disappointed.” He grimaced expressively, taking a moment to savour the pleasure of being able to let his emotions and feelings ride his face and his body language without any need for obfuscation or deceit for the endless call of politics. It was a small, almost guilty yet innocent pleasure. Like dancing naked with wild abandon on the beach or in the rain. “I have never understood what the point of bitter chocolate is.”
Ilatheril grinned at the Seelie’s wistful sadness and captured a Belgian chocolate from the box for himself. He let it melt slowly in his mouth. It was bitter. Almost too bitter to eat. But then the thick cocoa solids kicked in. The bitterness didn’t matter much after that, and a sip of the sweet wine easily took the edge off the bitterness.
“Argh, heathen!” Sitharensor splashed water at him in disgust. Or the water splashed itself at Ilatheril in the Seelie’s disgust. Sitharensor really did use magic for everything. But he did do it so very well. “How can you taint that lovely vintage with the evil of bitter so-called chocolate?!”
Ilatheril grinned wider, picked up another chocolate, dipped it liberally in the chocolate dip for the strawberries and hurriedly put the dripping morsel into his mouth. The sweetness of the dip and the richness of the cocoa solids were incredible together. Even more so with the sweet wine added in.
“Heretic! Not just the wine, but the good chocolate as well?! Aie, ‘tis not to be borne!” He leaped across the tub, almost swimming through the water to tackle the Unseelie. The two thrashed playfully through the water, a tangle of sweet oils, floating webs of hair and naked limbs. Half drowned, they settled back to lay tangled together, Sitharensor trying to preserve the poor, ill-used chocolate by licking the spilled drop off the Unseelie’s chest. Ilatheril merely repeated the crime with another chocolate and some more dip. Sitharensor bit him, fairly gently… fairly-ish anyway, indulging in an entirely new flavour before letting go and tracing the bite marks with a finger.
Ilatheril prodded the Seelie. “How do you know it’ horrible if you’ve never tried it?”
The Seelie considered for some time before solemnly pulling himself up from the fading marks on Ilatheril’s chest to level with his head. With the studious air of a researcher, he pulled the Unseelie’s head towards him and kissed him. His tongue roamed forwards, tasting the remains of the melted chocolate, the drags of the wine all on a base of the wonderful taste of his husband’s mouth. His explorations were long and involved and very energetic. Finally, satisfied, he released the Unseelie.
“I suppose it is not without its merits.” He conceded, grudgingly.
Ilatheril laughed. “I never thought I’ be doing this.” Sitharensor looked up, curious. “I mean, in the Seelie court. Never thought you Seelie knew how to indulge yourselves so well.”
Sitharensor smiled and hugged the Unseelie closer. “Whyever not?”
“Well, you’re all about purity and honour and order and all that stuff. I thought hedonism went against all that.” He smiled, making sure the Seelie took no offence
Sitharensor chuckled, not finding any to take. “It is funny really. We know more about humans and human values than we do about our cousins in the other court. No, you are using human perceptions of purity and honour; which for some mad reason seems to consider pleasure and enjoyment to be wrong or… what is that word they use? Ah, a sin.”
“So you’ve got nothing against hedonism?” Ilatheril looked quite surprised really.
Sitharensor’s mouth twisted in thought. “Yes and no.” Ilatheril rolled his eyes. “Naturally, Unseelie. Not everything is simple.” Sitharensor chided gently. “Firstly, we are against hedonism, but your definition of hedonism is inaccurate. To be a hedonist is to seek pleasure above all else, to hold pleasure as the highest goal and virtue. While we do not find any problems with pleasure or even seeking pleasure, we do not give it that degree of prominence.”
“Same with us.” Now it was Sitharensor who looked surprised. “Don’t look like that, we’re not hedonists. A hedonist is a slave – a slave to his own pleasures and addictions, but still a helpless slave. Pleasure and desire are important but if they begin to rule you, control you and basic ally become your obsession and entire point of existence, then you are a slave. That goes against freedom. So it is not Unseelie. Simple.”
”I thought the Unseelie were free to do whatever they wanted?” Sitharensor was shocked by the sudden challenge to everything the Seelie were taught the Unseelie were. The court was supposed to have been founded on hedonism.
“Well, yes, you are. But if your desires have become the whole or driving force of you wants then you aren’t really free. You’re caged again – it may be a cage of your own choosing, you may have forged the chains yourself, but you’re still not free. The importance of being free is to be free – and allow no chains, not even your desires, rule you. It’s not as simple as just doing whatever you want – if that were the case why would we even need a court? We wouldn’t need an organization; but the structure exists so we can develop our wants and desires and continue to find – and open – new pathways.”
Sitharensor considered this. That would take some thought; it severely overturned several assumptions about the nature of the courts.
“To be honest, if this,” Ilatheril gestured around the sumptuous scene they were both indulging in. “Is common among the Seelie then I think the only real difference between us experiencing pleasure is that the Unseelie aren’t as ashamed…” Sitharensor grimaced. Ilatheril thought for a second… “Ok, bad word, the Unseelie don’t consider it as ‘unseemly,’” Sitharensor nodded, “to do this kind of thing in public. We do the same stuff, we’re just more blatant about it. And probably more willing to try new things.”
Sitharensor nodded. “The Seelie keep our pleasures private. Partly it is sheer pragmatism. Your pleasures say a lot about you. A lot more than might be wise to disclose in politics. But also because it is distracting – there is no need to have our pleasure sin public, no need to confuse politics and affairs of state and court by personal desires and displays. Keeping one’s personal life and public life separate is simply more efficient. More ordered.”
Ilatheril shrugged, moving his arms into a more comfortable position around Sitharensor. “I suppose it makes things more stable. We’ve just never really considered that a goal. But indulgence isn’t a bad thing?”
“In moderation, not at all. In fact denying pleasure is a very bad thing and heavily frowned upon.” Sitharensor gestured for the strawberries to float back over, favouring the whipped cream. He coated another in thicker double cream to feed to Ilatheril.
“What, you encourage indulgence?” Again, the Unseelie wore an expression of surprise, even as his jaw worked on the fruit.
“Yes.” Sitharensor helped himself again before continuing. “Desire exists. There is no denying that. Nor can it be killed or stopped. This is also beyond doubt. You will always want, whether it is for food, or sex or power or anything else, we will always have desire. If you suppress and ignore something as powerful as desire, it fights back. It rebels. It becomes chaotic, uncontrollable, disordered.” Ilatheril realised that the Seelie used words like ‘chaotic’ with the same degree of venom normally reserved for vile curse words. “Suppressed desires can taint everything you do, spread chaos everywhere you go. They damage you, they damage those around you, and they damage society and the courts. Suppressed and ignored desires sow chaos widely and undermine order wherever they go.”
Sitharensor grimaced and took a long swallow of wine. Almost immediately he mellowed and settled back against the Unseelie’s naked, damp chest. He played absently with tendrils of steam with one finger. “So we tame desire. We indulge it when it causes no harm to do so. We release the pressure and bring our passions under control. With indulgence we maintain our own order, the order of those around us, the order of society and the order of the courts.” He drained his glass, satisfied and content.
“Wow.” Sitharensor looked up in lazy surprise. “The courts agree on something!” Sitharensor’s face cracked into a mock show of shock. Ilatheril grinned back. “Unseelie are called upon to indulge as well – not for order of course.” They both laughed at the idea of Unseelie promoting order. “But we still tame desire with indulgence. If it isn’t tamed it builds up until it’s too powerful to control. Until it controls us. We indulge so we are the ones in command, not our desires commanding us. Same thing, different reasons.”
A point of similarity between the courts was almost unprecedented. Both settled back in each other’s arms, pausing only to take a morsel for themselves or the other. Or to indulge a desire to touch or feel or kiss. Both lay in thought, quite contemplation, sensuous indulgence and laughing intimacy. Both lay, reflecting on what other similarities existed between the vast gulfs if ignorance and prejudice.
This may revise if either one turn round and say something that invalidate the whole thing, but I think I got this bit.
Unseelie: the whole exists to focus on the self. The whole is there so the self can focus on and reach it’s own potential. The self is what’s important. The self is why the whole exists – to provide tools to allow that self to develop.
Seelie: The self should serve the whole. Individuals are important, but the grand design is more so. The self must be subservient to the whole, the needs of the whole and to protect the whole. The self must never damage the whole, because it is more important and more valuable.
The water gave off a constant haze of thick fragrant steam. Rich, expensive oils slicked the surface with a rainbow sheen and added their cloying scents to the humid air. Braziers filled the air with a thick, aromatic smoke. It hinted of exotic climes, distant spices and decadent indolence in halls of luxury across the world. The scent seemed to heat the inside of the body as much as the hot, soothing water did the outer skin. Candles were the only source of light in the room; thick pillar candles squat and heavy. Tall ivory candles seeming to stretch impossibly thin and tall to the ceiling. Despite the flickering flames the light was not dim – a thousand crystals had been scattered artlessly around the room, well interspaced with mirrors and a reflective ceiling seemingly made from one giant multi-faceted diamond. The soft light seemed to flow from every direction, split with glowing fractures of light and populated by relaxed, indolent shadows that moved lazily in the warm air.
Wooden trays floated across the surface of the water. Each remained stable undisturbed no matter what disturbed the glass like surface of the water. Each platter had been artfully prepared with a perfectly beautiful selection of expensive treat. A tall bowl of only the plumpest, sweetest strawberries floated past, unerringly orbited by three smaller bowls, one of thick double cream, one overflowing with a mound of whipped cream and one with a rich dark chocolate lapping slowly at the bowl’s rim. It passed a long tray, the centre of which was covered with an array of cheeses from every corner of the world, rimmed by a dozen different crackers. Ice buckets filled with old and expensive wines bobbed past, followed faithfully by crystal glasses filled with fire from the soft light. A box, miraculously protected from damp, filled with the finest British chocolates, battered aside a Belgian counterpart to ensure its delicious contents were the ones that were noticed.
Ilatheril grinned at the Seelie from one side of the huge bathtub, absently flicking one damp lock of hair out of his eyes. He picked up a strawberry, dipping it in the double cream and ate it slowly, savouring every small bite. He allowed himself to sink deeper in the water as he concentrated on every delicate nuance of the flavour, on how it was altered by the rippling fumes of the incense, the scented candles and the perfumed oils all round him. He marvelled at the contrast between the nearly ice cold cream and the steaming water. Finally he swallowed with a sensuous sigh of one lost in true melting pleasure. He paused to drink just a sip from one of the floating glasses loving how the sweet, almost too sweet, wine fit so well with the strawberries. He decided to test this, plucked another strawberry from the iced bowl, dipped it in the wine and popped it into his mouth for one crunching bite. Almost… he sank a little lower in the water as he shut down all senses but taste. Almost. He jerked up, plucked another strawberry, dipped it in the roiling dark chocolate, dipped it in the wine then put it decisively in his mouth.
Sitharensor watched in amusement from the other side of the marble bathtub as the Unseelie seemed to melt beneath the water, making small, almost animal, sounds of pleasure.
Ilatheril emerged slowly to watch his husband across the water. The Seelie had a cracker covered in a sharp blue cheese in one hand and a sickly, sweet chocolate from the warring boxes in the other. Ilatheril grimaced, but decided not to comment. Instead he nodded to the warring boxes. “Got a problem with Belgian chocolates?”
Sitharensor sighed expansively, sliding down into the water as he finished his cracker and picked up a bobbing glass that gravitated to his hand. For a moment he just admired the flow of light through the crystal as it danced downwards onto the sheen of the water, before draining the sharp wine. A perfect match to the cheese that still left its tang in his mouth and the chocolate that raised above all of it, even higher for the sharp beginnings. “I always ask for Belgian chocolate. It has such a reputation. And I am always so terribly disappointed.” He grimaced expressively, taking a moment to savour the pleasure of being able to let his emotions and feelings ride his face and his body language without any need for obfuscation or deceit for the endless call of politics. It was a small, almost guilty yet innocent pleasure. Like dancing naked with wild abandon on the beach or in the rain. “I have never understood what the point of bitter chocolate is.”
Ilatheril grinned at the Seelie’s wistful sadness and captured a Belgian chocolate from the box for himself. He let it melt slowly in his mouth. It was bitter. Almost too bitter to eat. But then the thick cocoa solids kicked in. The bitterness didn’t matter much after that, and a sip of the sweet wine easily took the edge off the bitterness.
“Argh, heathen!” Sitharensor splashed water at him in disgust. Or the water splashed itself at Ilatheril in the Seelie’s disgust. Sitharensor really did use magic for everything. But he did do it so very well. “How can you taint that lovely vintage with the evil of bitter so-called chocolate?!”
Ilatheril grinned wider, picked up another chocolate, dipped it liberally in the chocolate dip for the strawberries and hurriedly put the dripping morsel into his mouth. The sweetness of the dip and the richness of the cocoa solids were incredible together. Even more so with the sweet wine added in.
“Heretic! Not just the wine, but the good chocolate as well?! Aie, ‘tis not to be borne!” He leaped across the tub, almost swimming through the water to tackle the Unseelie. The two thrashed playfully through the water, a tangle of sweet oils, floating webs of hair and naked limbs. Half drowned, they settled back to lay tangled together, Sitharensor trying to preserve the poor, ill-used chocolate by licking the spilled drop off the Unseelie’s chest. Ilatheril merely repeated the crime with another chocolate and some more dip. Sitharensor bit him, fairly gently… fairly-ish anyway, indulging in an entirely new flavour before letting go and tracing the bite marks with a finger.
Ilatheril prodded the Seelie. “How do you know it’ horrible if you’ve never tried it?”
The Seelie considered for some time before solemnly pulling himself up from the fading marks on Ilatheril’s chest to level with his head. With the studious air of a researcher, he pulled the Unseelie’s head towards him and kissed him. His tongue roamed forwards, tasting the remains of the melted chocolate, the drags of the wine all on a base of the wonderful taste of his husband’s mouth. His explorations were long and involved and very energetic. Finally, satisfied, he released the Unseelie.
“I suppose it is not without its merits.” He conceded, grudgingly.
Ilatheril laughed. “I never thought I’ be doing this.” Sitharensor looked up, curious. “I mean, in the Seelie court. Never thought you Seelie knew how to indulge yourselves so well.”
Sitharensor smiled and hugged the Unseelie closer. “Whyever not?”
“Well, you’re all about purity and honour and order and all that stuff. I thought hedonism went against all that.” He smiled, making sure the Seelie took no offence
Sitharensor chuckled, not finding any to take. “It is funny really. We know more about humans and human values than we do about our cousins in the other court. No, you are using human perceptions of purity and honour; which for some mad reason seems to consider pleasure and enjoyment to be wrong or… what is that word they use? Ah, a sin.”
“So you’ve got nothing against hedonism?” Ilatheril looked quite surprised really.
Sitharensor’s mouth twisted in thought. “Yes and no.” Ilatheril rolled his eyes. “Naturally, Unseelie. Not everything is simple.” Sitharensor chided gently. “Firstly, we are against hedonism, but your definition of hedonism is inaccurate. To be a hedonist is to seek pleasure above all else, to hold pleasure as the highest goal and virtue. While we do not find any problems with pleasure or even seeking pleasure, we do not give it that degree of prominence.”
“Same with us.” Now it was Sitharensor who looked surprised. “Don’t look like that, we’re not hedonists. A hedonist is a slave – a slave to his own pleasures and addictions, but still a helpless slave. Pleasure and desire are important but if they begin to rule you, control you and basic ally become your obsession and entire point of existence, then you are a slave. That goes against freedom. So it is not Unseelie. Simple.”
”I thought the Unseelie were free to do whatever they wanted?” Sitharensor was shocked by the sudden challenge to everything the Seelie were taught the Unseelie were. The court was supposed to have been founded on hedonism.
“Well, yes, you are. But if your desires have become the whole or driving force of you wants then you aren’t really free. You’re caged again – it may be a cage of your own choosing, you may have forged the chains yourself, but you’re still not free. The importance of being free is to be free – and allow no chains, not even your desires, rule you. It’s not as simple as just doing whatever you want – if that were the case why would we even need a court? We wouldn’t need an organization; but the structure exists so we can develop our wants and desires and continue to find – and open – new pathways.”
Sitharensor considered this. That would take some thought; it severely overturned several assumptions about the nature of the courts.
“To be honest, if this,” Ilatheril gestured around the sumptuous scene they were both indulging in. “Is common among the Seelie then I think the only real difference between us experiencing pleasure is that the Unseelie aren’t as ashamed…” Sitharensor grimaced. Ilatheril thought for a second… “Ok, bad word, the Unseelie don’t consider it as ‘unseemly,’” Sitharensor nodded, “to do this kind of thing in public. We do the same stuff, we’re just more blatant about it. And probably more willing to try new things.”
Sitharensor nodded. “The Seelie keep our pleasures private. Partly it is sheer pragmatism. Your pleasures say a lot about you. A lot more than might be wise to disclose in politics. But also because it is distracting – there is no need to have our pleasure sin public, no need to confuse politics and affairs of state and court by personal desires and displays. Keeping one’s personal life and public life separate is simply more efficient. More ordered.”
Ilatheril shrugged, moving his arms into a more comfortable position around Sitharensor. “I suppose it makes things more stable. We’ve just never really considered that a goal. But indulgence isn’t a bad thing?”
“In moderation, not at all. In fact denying pleasure is a very bad thing and heavily frowned upon.” Sitharensor gestured for the strawberries to float back over, favouring the whipped cream. He coated another in thicker double cream to feed to Ilatheril.
“What, you encourage indulgence?” Again, the Unseelie wore an expression of surprise, even as his jaw worked on the fruit.
“Yes.” Sitharensor helped himself again before continuing. “Desire exists. There is no denying that. Nor can it be killed or stopped. This is also beyond doubt. You will always want, whether it is for food, or sex or power or anything else, we will always have desire. If you suppress and ignore something as powerful as desire, it fights back. It rebels. It becomes chaotic, uncontrollable, disordered.” Ilatheril realised that the Seelie used words like ‘chaotic’ with the same degree of venom normally reserved for vile curse words. “Suppressed desires can taint everything you do, spread chaos everywhere you go. They damage you, they damage those around you, and they damage society and the courts. Suppressed and ignored desires sow chaos widely and undermine order wherever they go.”
Sitharensor grimaced and took a long swallow of wine. Almost immediately he mellowed and settled back against the Unseelie’s naked, damp chest. He played absently with tendrils of steam with one finger. “So we tame desire. We indulge it when it causes no harm to do so. We release the pressure and bring our passions under control. With indulgence we maintain our own order, the order of those around us, the order of society and the order of the courts.” He drained his glass, satisfied and content.
“Wow.” Sitharensor looked up in lazy surprise. “The courts agree on something!” Sitharensor’s face cracked into a mock show of shock. Ilatheril grinned back. “Unseelie are called upon to indulge as well – not for order of course.” They both laughed at the idea of Unseelie promoting order. “But we still tame desire with indulgence. If it isn’t tamed it builds up until it’s too powerful to control. Until it controls us. We indulge so we are the ones in command, not our desires commanding us. Same thing, different reasons.”
A point of similarity between the courts was almost unprecedented. Both settled back in each other’s arms, pausing only to take a morsel for themselves or the other. Or to indulge a desire to touch or feel or kiss. Both lay in thought, quite contemplation, sensuous indulgence and laughing intimacy. Both lay, reflecting on what other similarities existed between the vast gulfs if ignorance and prejudice.