The pain hit first—sharp, hot, and nauseating—followed by the dizzying sensation of being too light and too small in her own skin.
Then the memories struck.
Not Ellie's.
Penelope's.
They flooded in with the force of an oncoming tide: childhood laughter echoing down pastel Featherington halls, Portia's sharp voice correcting posture and diet, Prudence and Philippa shrieking with mean-spirited glee, her father's gentle but useless attempts at comfort.
Ellie gasped as two childhoods crashed together—her modern one, warm and hardworking, embroidered with quiet joys… and Penelope's, marked by loneliness stitched in loud colors.
Her vision whitened.
Her breath hitched.
And the System reacted instantly.
⟦ EMOTIONAL OVERLOAD DETECTED ⟧
⟦ MLP-CODED STABILIZATION AURA — Calming Field Lv.0 activated⟧
⟦ Initiating Gentle Regulation…⟧
Warmth wrapped around her, impossibly soft—like a blanket, like a hug from something pink, sparkly, and aggressively supportive.
Her pulse steadied. Her shaking slowed.
Not gone.
But bearable.
She blinked up at the blurred shapes above her.
Portia Featherington towered over her, cheeks flushed with anger poorly disguised as panic.
"Penelope! You frightened me half to death. What were you thinking?" she snapped, not waiting for an answer. "Girls, give her space!"
Prudence hovered behind her mother, more annoyed than worried.
Philippa wrung her gloved hands, uncertain whether she should care.
Ellie—Penelope—forced herself to sit up. Her bones felt wrong. Her skin felt wrong. Everything felt wrong.
But her mind?
Her mind was full.
Memories continued knitting together—Ellie's steady and warm, Penelope's brittle and hungry. Ellie watched in numb awe as they aligned themselves:
Her old sewing room.
Penelope's embroidery lessons.
Her Etsy shop packaging station.
Penelope's quiet hours stitching to escape being noticed.
Her first handmade dress.
Penelope hiding tears behind half-finished samplers.
Two lives.
Two sets of instincts.
Two girls learning to survive through thread.
And now they were one.
---
Portia tutted loudly. "Get her home at once. If she's broken something, she'll simply have to manage. We cannot afford another doctor's bill."
That pierced through Ellie's fog.
Featherington finances were already unstable.
Not later. Now.
1807, and disaster was already blooming under the surface.
Her heart clenched.
She was eleven.
In the past.
In a failing household.
And utterly, terrifyingly alone.
Except—
A soft chime.
⟦ SYSTEM TUTORIAL UNLOCKED ⟧
⟦ Welcome, Penelope-Ellie. Begin interface orientation?⟧
She didn't answer aloud, but the System flowed open anyway—
—wings of pale golden menus unfurling like embroidered petals.
Craft Skill Tree: UNLOCKED.
A delicate branching design appeared, shimmering like thread under lamplight.
— Embroidery (Lv. 0 → 1)
— Pattern Design
— Color Theory
— Charm Infusion (LOCKED)
— Enchanted Threadwork (LOCKED)
Ellie inhaled sharply.
Her old skills… Ellie's skills… had come with her.
Finally something familiar.
Another panel blinked to life:
⟦ Fandom Ability Access: APPROVED ONLY ⟧
Good. She wouldn't accidentally break the world.
Bad. She needed to plan carefully.
And Portia Featherington's voice was already grating at her ears.
"Up you get," Portia scolded. "Philippa, take your sister's good arm. Prudence, stop pouting."
Philippa obeyed. Prudence did not.
As the three of them began the walk back toward the Featherington estate, Ellie felt the full weight of her new old memories press down.
Her sisters—beautiful, vain, thoughtless—were already whispering complaints.
"She ruined our afternoon."
"Honestly, Penelope always makes trouble."
"Do you think Mama will let her bathe before supper? Her hair's a fright."
Ellie's throat tightened.
This wasn't bullying like in the TV show.
It was constant erosion.
Small, relentless cuts that shaped Penelope into something quiet and self-blaming.
But Ellie wasn't going to let these petty girls dictate her life.
Not this time.
She would learn.
Adapt.
Plan.
Survive Portia Featherington long enough to build something new.
And maybe—just maybe—rewrite every expectation this house had of Penelope.
The System shimmered approvingly.
⟦ NEW MISSION AVAILABLE⟧
[Mission: Create your first stabilized embroidery charm.
Objective: Use embroidery to ground emotions + stabilize merged memories.
Reward: Thread-Sense Lv.1 (Ascendance of a Bookworm)
Bonus: +150 SC
Failure Penalty: Emotional Instability (Minor)]
---
Back at the estate, after Portia declared the incident "Penelope's own silly fault," Ellie slipped away to her small bedroom.
Her hands still trembled.
Her breath still caught.
But her mind—her mind sought thread.
She pulled open Penelope's tiny embroidery basket and chose a soft cream handkerchief.
Her needle felt familiar.
Comforting.
The first stitch steadied her.
The second reminded her who she had been.
The third who she intended to be.
Soft magic prickled along the thread, faint but real—her two lives knitting into one pattern.
By the time she finished the small flower in the corner of the cloth, her pulse felt steady again.
The System chimed softly.
⟦ MISSION COMPLETE⟧
[Reward Granted: THREAD-SENSE Lv.1
You can now "feel" the quality, durability, and emotional resonance of fabrics and threads.]
⟦ Optional Sub-Mission Unlocked:
"Begin Planning Your Future." ⟧
Ellie exhaled slowly.
Penelope Featherington had been a background character.
Ellie Thompson had been a survivor.
Together?
They could become something else entirely.