#so Mr Segundus did the magic

[adellagreen]

More book-JSAMN thoughts

The fact that "so Mr Segundus did the magic" wasn't a "poof and result", but at least finding the spoon, bodkin and ribbon as well as acquiring the help from Emma's maid who wasn't in the room, to say nothing of Segundus's anxious thought process of coming up with these tools (which however, probably didn't take long, because he is a magician)

Bueno ❤️

[grntre23]

watched jsmn and then read the whole book in a week so i’m thinking abt segundus - the idea that segundus is a primary johannite on acct of strange’s magic, and his friendship with segundus is so interesting to me because segundus is described as (1) a genuinely good gentleman, (2) an avid lover of magic, and (3) a biographer and close friend of one of the most powerful magicians in 300 years. and i was thinking abt childermass as usual - but what kind of insane post-canon relationship would the two have, when childermass’ egging him on is the reason segundus picks up enough courage to ‘do the magic’??? like strange making summoning dreams was enough to nab segundus the first time - can u imagine the levels of worship this man would secretly cultivate for the 1 dude who like is the face of a new era of magic PLUS the dude who pushed him into actually DOING magic??!

[diogenesprintco]

Does anyone ever think about "So Mr Segundus did the magic." and start crying? Me neither.

Still sorting through the archives and uploading old work - I can't believe I didn't post this Restoration and Rectification print before (or indeed my Belasis's Scopus print... #watchthisspace). I'd love to do more Strange & Norrell/Ladies of Grace Adieu fanart and have been meaning to attempt a Piranesi illustration for years, and I would like to invite any interested parties to hold me accountable by leaving nagging and/or encouraging messages in my askbox.

[trexrecs]

JOHN SQUARED FIC REC

Ten Times Found by halsinator

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell: John Segundus/ John Childermass

E, 19k, Virginity, Kidnapping, Rescue

When you were reading Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell* did you at any point think to yourself; you know who I ship in this? Segundus and Childermass? No? Neither did I. And how wrong we were because there's a je ne sais quoi about the Johns that is beautifully captured in this fic (and all fics) by halsinator.

The basic plot is that Segundus is a virgin and in this world suddenly bursting with magic his virginity has become something other beings-- magicians, fairies-- could potential use in their spells. And so he keeps getting captured. And captured. And captured. And Childremass, roaming about the countryside for political reasons keeps rescuing him.

The world building is so beautiful; the descriptions of spells, the strange things happening in the world, of magic. And the characters are so lovingly depicted; poor Segundus, perennially optimistic despite all of the shit that keeps happening to him, sulky and ungrateful to Childermass' repeated rescues, and Childermass, gruff and rude and unable to cover how much he cares about Segundus...

It's fun and full of heart and ultimately steamy.

10/10 have already read like a dozen times.

Also with podfic!

*What?! You haven't read the incredible regency-era Dickensian faux-academic masterpiece that is Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke? My friend, you really need to stop browsing tumblr and go read it. Now.

[burnsopale]

Childermass & Segundus - it sounds very well

So one day the York Society of Magicians receives a new member, and Childermass is like okay, no big deal, those guys never do anything interesting anyway.

But then, right, then the new guy and one of the old guys writes to Mr Norrell and asks if they may have the pleasure of waiting on him sometime, and Mr Norrell is like "No" but Childermass is like "Actually yes" because he's intrigued, or because the cards have told him something is about to happen, or because Mr Norrell is years overdue to go to London and revive English magic and Childermass figures this might jostle him into doing something. We don't know what exactly happened, but it seems likely that it was Childermass who made the visit possible, because the idea of Mr Norrell ever wanting visitors is impossible to accept.

So these two theoretical magicians come to Hurtfew Abbey, and Childermass is in the library waiting for the visit to end and Norrell to show up and tell him what the men wanted, but instead, when the door opens, there they are, the visitors, having been invited to see the library and what the fuck did they say to old Gilbert to make that happen?? Not that it matters, they're not gonna remember anything by the time they get home, the enchantments will see to that.

Mr Norrell introduces Childermass, and the new guy gives him a look like Childermass facinates him, but Childermass is used to that. He figures he'll just hang out until they leave.

Except the new guy, who is a dark, timid-looking little man named John Segundus, keeps looking around like he can sense the spells lighting the room, keeps looking out the window like he's not happy with the orientation of the walls, keeps blinking like the magic is making him a little dizzy. John Segundus is clearly magic sensitive. No one in the York Society is magic sensitive, Childermass knows that for a fact. This is suddenly intriguing.

So Childermass ends up keeping half an eye on Mr Segundus as he explores, until Mr Segundus notices, sensitive as he is, and their eyes meet. Childermass reads longing, need, delight and confusion on the man's face, but Childermass is without pity; by the time Mr Segundus gets home, he won't remember what he's seen. It doesn't matter; no one in the York Society ever did anything interesting anyway.

But then later, the letter from Dr Foxcastle comes, and Mr Norrell is Upset and Offended, and Childermass realises that the Revival is about to start at last. And because Mr Norrell is fearful and Childermass is pitiless, they send a lawyer with their demands.

Mr Robinson the lawyer returns to Hurtfew a little perplexed. Oh yes, they all signed, just like you said they would, every one of them ... except ... except one. Childermass is a little surprised to discover that the timid little man had a spine after all. Mr Norrell wants Mr Robinson to go back and demand the last signature, but Childermass says "Wait". And at this point, we do not know what he is thinking. Perhaps he simply thinks that they will need someone to write to London once the miracle has been done, and Mr Segundus is more likely to be amiable if he has not just been deprived of his calling. But then, Mr Honeyfoot, the other visitor, would definitely be happy to write, even though he WILL be deprived of that same calling. Perhaps, Childermass thinks that this is a strangely fateful twist, that the one member of the York Society who has an actual talent for magic is the one person who refused to give it up. Maybe he remembers a time when he himself was full of longing for magic, when he could sense it all around him but was unable to grasp it, when he too would get dizzy in Mr Norrell's library. He may not feel pity, but he can be intrigued. He convinces Mr Norrell to let Mr Segundus be.

Childermass laughs inside when John Segundus doesn't recognise him outside the cathedral, but then startles when the man almost recalls after all. He is not supposed to be able to break the enchantment. Thankfully, the moment passes, and after the magic is done, Mr Segundus turns out to be exactly as easy to manipulate as Childermass thought he would be. The polite ones are easy, especially when they are full of need and longing, and keep looking at Childermass like he has the answers they are searching for. Maybe Childermass uses a little bit of magic to persuade the man to write to London, or maybe he just smiles, and waits, and lets John Segundus come to him of his own accord.

Childermass returns to Hurtfew Abbey and says to his master "Go to London. Go now." and because Childermass knows about these things, they go.

And nine years pass in London.

But occasionally during those nine years, Childermass turns his attention to York, to see what timid little John Segundus is up to. Mostly it's not much.

Until Jonathan Strange happens. That he happens at all is rather extraordinary, but how interesting that he should come to seek Mr Norrell on the advice of John Segundus? For sure there are many people with an affinity for magic in England, but how many of them are magicians? Too few, thinks Childermass. How likely is it that two of them should meet at random? He wonders if this is another fated twist.

So he continues to keep half an eye on York, just in case Mr Segundus should discover how to actually grasp the magic that surrounds him. But when Strange returns from the war in Spain, his conversation tells Childermass that even with the learning, even with actual spells to hand, their timid little man in York cannot make the magic work.

John Segundus begins taking on pupils. Childermass keeps it from Mr Norrell. Childermass has been the instrument of many a theoretical magician's destruction, Childermass reads the hearts of men and feels no pity for them, and yet Childermass keeps John Segundus hidden from Mr Norrell. Maybe, just maybe, John Childermass is beginning to feel a little bit of pity after all. He was once the one longing to master the powers that often overpowered him. He too loves magic so much, enough to endure servitude and secrecy to be near it.

But then John Segundus wants to start a school. Well, if he is going to be that silly, then Childermass cannot help him. Mr Norrell finds out, Mr Norrell panics, and he dispatches Childermass to York to put a stop to this evil plan. Business as usual in other words.

Childermass sits quite comfortably on the steps of Starecross when John Segundus comes home. Childermass delivers his message.

"You know me, Sir," he says, completely forgetting that while he has always had half an eye on John Segundus, John Segundus has not seen Childermass for nine years. Maybe, just maybe, Childermass is a little embarrassed at his mistake. But the errand is completed, and Mr Segundus is easy to manipulate, because he is so very gentle and polite.

Childermass may or may not have noticed that he has been manipulated in turn, because he, who has no pity for any man, lets Mr Segundus know that he regrets that the school cannot be, and he is willing to do what he can to keep Mr Segundus' dream from failing entirely. Although of course, he knows that a regular school is not at all the same as a school of magic.

Childermass knows what it's like to long, but he has found, if not the answers to his questions, then at least the tools by which to hunt them down. He can do the magic.

Then Mr Strange and Mr Norrell quarrel.

And then Lady Pole tries to shoot Mr Norrel. The lady walks with one foot in Faerie and one in London, and for a while, so does Childermass. Something is not right with the lady, but Mr Norrell won't tell him what magic he employed to bring her back from the dead. She'll be sent away somewhere where Childermass will have no chance to discover the truth. Unless of course he decides where she goes. Perhaps for instance to one whom Childermass knows will feel the Faerie winds blowing about the lady, someone who will be able to carry on the search for the truth, whether he knows that he's doing Childermass' work or not. Mr Segundus is easy to manipulate.

Childermass recommends to Sir Walter that he send his wife to Starecross in Yorkshire. How fortuitous that the master of that hall has just decided to open a madhouse there. Surely the visions that gave him the idea were entirely coincidental.

Mr Norrell and Childermass quarrel.

Jonathan Strange Returns magic to England. The Raven King returns to England and rewrites his book.

Mr Norrell and Mr Strange disappear into Faerie.

Suddenly, Childermass is the most experienced magician in England. No one has read as much, has practiced as much, or knows the spells he knows.

But he thinks that there is one man who will not be far behind him in achieving similar results. And maybe Childermass wonders sometimes if it was not all meant to be this way, that it was fate, that he himself was meant to come out on the other side as a student of the two great modern magicians of the age, and that he was meant to bring with him, sheltered under his wing, a dark, timid little man with an extraordinary sensitivity to magic. The books may be gone, but through his instruments, the Raven King has made sure that the new generation of magicians are both capable of and eager to read the magic written on the sky. It will take sensitive men, full of longing, and isn't it fortuitous then, that all those years ago, in the library at Hurtfew Abbey, Childermass recognised another like himself in John Segundus, and decided to keep half an eye on him.

[samayla]

It is half-past four in the morning; the neighbor's truck woke me up; I have the beginnings of a terrible headache... But my brain is in 1800s mode and buzzing with snatches of imagined letters from Jonathan Strange:

Strange to Segundus after Arabella's death: I can find nothing in my own few books, John, and Norrell will not so much as answer my letters - he does not even trouble himself to lie to me any longer. After all these years between us, I feel sure I am entitled to that, at the least! But I have hit upon a solution, I think: I have written to Mr Jeffries, who runs the Edinburgh Review, and asked him for an introduction to John Ashby. You may laugh at my folly, John! I know Jeffries has thwarted even Childermass in his attempts to find out his star contributor, but Ashby has long vexed Norrell with his extensive knowledge. You have read his work. Surely he will know something that can help me. I am convinced he is my last, best hope in this. I can only pray that the earnestness of my request will spark some compassion from one or both men.

Strange to Ashby (magician oc who publishes in the Edinburgh Review): Norrell is not known for inventing spells, and so he must have encountered the method in some book or another, and that gives me some hope. In short, sir, I wish to know whether you have encountered anything in your extensive readings that might be to the point.

Strange to Jane, from Venice: She is a charming young lady, and, to own the truth, she reminds me a great deal of you. You are both so lively and quick-witted, and though she lacks your experience, she has recently become very much interested in magic. I feel quite sure the pair of you would get on wonderfully, and the next time we are all of us in England, I shall of course make introductions.

Jane, in her reply: You write as though you are surprised! You did not notice while you were in London, perhaps - I know you were much taken up by business for the War Office, and anyway, your vanity does not tend in this direction - but a great many young ladies, both clever and dull, have recently become very much interested in magic. I daresay that, if you had helped Wellington to farm or mine his way to victory, you would find a great many young ladies suddenly enamored with the glory and romance of farming or mining! It is really you they admire, of course! And with all your passion and animation on the subject of magic, how could they not fall in love with it as well?

[ice-and-starlight]

Today's 3AM thoughts:

NO BUT WAIT.

You know what would make the best crossover ever? The Sandman and Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell.

-waves excitedly at anyone who's in both of these fandoms- (and to those of you that are only in one, I'm Pretty Damn Sure you're going to like the other. The Vibes match. They are absolutely wearing the same hat. Please go watch it (whichever one it is) right now.)

The Raven King being in some way related to Dream, because they are both dramatic gothic emo kings who never feel the need to explain shit to people. And also his ability to have the entirety of his human kingdom dream of the same thing. (That or maybe he bargained for a favour from Dream? What did Dream get in return?) The Raven King and Lucifer. I don't even care what that relationship ends up looking like, I just Need them to interact. Mortal Enemies? Frenemies? Allies? High Romance? Yes! Yes to all of it! Did the Raven King make a bargain with Lucifer for his Kingdom on the Far Side of Hell? Did he trick his way into it somehow or win it in the oldest game?

Hob thinking that Dream is a faerie rather than a devil. Hob living through the entirety of the decline of English Magic. Hob getting accused not of being a witch, but of being a faerie. Hob, at the height of his Atoning For Being a Slaver years, finding Stephen Black, the son of a woman who died on one of his ships. And getting caught up in the quest to Kill the King of Lost Hope because freeing Stephen from bondage is why he's there. (Hob getting to be a Faerie Knight for a while as atonement to King Stephen of Last Hope? Hob going to Segundus' school of magic?)

Tell me Rodrick Burgess doesn't have shitty English Magician Vibes. Tell me that whole magical ritual and 'a cage of glass and iron' and all of that doesn't have huge Strange and Norrell-esque magic vibes.

The Kingdom of Last Hope being a close neighbour to the Dreaming. Stephen sending someone on a Quest into the Dreaming to rescue dreamers stuck there because of the sleepy sickness. (Reprise of Faerie Knight Hob?!) the Kingdom of Last Hope making fae deals with people to protect them from the sleepy sickness by spiriting them away from any chance of dreaming every night. (The Raven King getting Mad about this abducting of His People, and Stephen telling him (ever so politely) that he wouldn't have to if the Raven King would protect his own damn people.)

Stephen and Lucienne. Ultimate Broship. Meeting across the negotiating table and just having Mad Respect for each other from the get-go. Dream is an offended cat about the fact that this foreign king seems to have more respect for his librarian than for him.

[number63liveblogs]

Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell 5

Mr Norrell's pupil, Jonathan Strange, loathed it so much that he tore his copy into pieces and fed it to a tinker's donkey (see Life of Jonathan Strange by John Segundus, 1820, pub. John Murray).

Well, here’s the answer to that question. I think the most likely way for this to happen is that Jonathan Strange is the only other person around who has any aptitude for magic, and Mr. Norrell isn’t able to take anyone else. Although if Jonathan Strange isn’t a commoner, he could also be the son or nephew of someone important, but in that case I’d assume the book would have called him “young master Strange” or something.  

I’m pretty sure that Childermass is absolutely correct and Drawlight is bad news. Unfortunately I’m even more certain that Mr. Norrell isn’t going to listen to him when he says that, because he’s fallen squarely into Drawlight’s orbit.

Although it is still possible that things blow up with Drawlight before he can do too much damage to Mr. Norrell’s reputation. Like, it doesn’t actually look like Drawlight actually believes that Mr. Norrell is capable of genuine magic. If he did he would be hounding Mr. Norrell to do way more magic, instead of coming up with fantastic stories. And considering how prideful we’ve already seen Mr. Norrell being, if he realizes that it could be enough to break their friendship.

Of course, Mr. Norrell would need to realize that first.

[edward-little]

“I don’t know the magic,” he snapped at Little. “I came to tell you that Mr. Crozier has gone into the mouth of the Thames to follow Mr. Fitzjames. That’s where I’ve been all afternoon.”

Little’s mouth pulled into a frown that lasted only a second and caused Jopson to regret speaking harshly to him, though not as much as he might have regretted it some other time. Then he schooled his expression into something businesslike and calm. Sometimes Little’s level head made Jopson forget that he otherwise lived under a barely-receded cloud of misery. “Now we have two men to find,” he said.” -The Greenwich Magicians, “Five of Cups”

YESSSSSS

writing the jsamn au was particularly challenging partly because of how many characters i had to juggle throughout the story while still trying to vary which character the narration followed. i knew i needed a jopson chapter to get from a crozier chapter back to what little and hodgson were doing-- i hadn't placed the hickey chapter yet, i think i was debating whether to stick it before or after this one. also while i was writing this fic i was thinking a lot about this au vs jsamn and particularly about jopson and bridgens and how they related to childermass and segundus. i didn't like the idea of doing a 1:1 for each character (though i did throw in some background about bridgens and segundus. as a treat). that all being said though this part does have some elements of jsamn ch 63.

ANYway jopson's just come back from watching crozier walk into the sea and the whole way over he's like "this is fine. this is fine. i'll get back to greenwich and tell little and hodgson and irving what happened and i'm going to help them figure out what to do and it'll be fine" but then when he gets back hodgson is zooted and little is miserable and irving isn't there and jopson is like I Leave You Alone For Five Minutes. also jopson is someone who's so used to being the most competent one in the room that when he can't fly by on competency alone-- as in this case, where the lieuts' knowledge of magic is really required-- and he has to rely on the other people's abilities he becomes frustrated. and from his perspective, hodgson is the reason irving isn't there and they're down to two lieuts, and little is better for telling what to do than for having a plan on his own. so here comes jopson with a massive problem he needs help to solve and the people he requires to solve it already have this other problem on their hands that's partly their own faults.

i also wanted an ep 10-ish moment for little where he's required to take charge in crozier's absence. competent nedward rights but only if he's soggy about it.

[istanstens]

I’ve been thinking a lot about John Segundus lately as I want to write a modern day AU and I came to the realization about something. 

He is (if not practicing) of Jewish heritage. 

Allow me to explain. 

1. His last name, Segundus is Italian, not English. (In fact, in the book Strange thinks Segundus looks Italian. Why bother to mention this description at all?) It always bothered me why an English character had such a foreign name unless it was significant. Now, I know what you might be thinking; the Jewish people are not known for living in Italy. This is true, with the notable exception of Venice which had a sizable Jewish community. (And remember, it’s mentioned in the book that the invalid woman Dr and Flora Greysteel go to visit is living in the attic of a Jewish man.) Granted, Segundus is not a Jewish name, but it is highly plausible the family took it to better fit into Italian society (it is well known Jewish families in the past, especially in hostile areas changed/altered their names to better fit into society. My own family did this.) 

2. He looks Jewish to me. (Yes, this is based on Edward Hogg’s appearance and definitely the weakest of my points, but indulge me.) Segundus has a strong jaw, high cheekbones, and dark curly hair kept short (before it can really curl. I’ve seen photos of Edward with longer hair and it’s wildly curly.) Curly (usually dark) hair is as stereotypical a Jewish trait as a large nose. (I’ve had people not believe that I’m Jewish simply because I have straight hair.) With the exception of my uncle (who has blond curly hair) Segundus looks exactly like every member of my Jewish family with his strong jaw, high cheekbones, and dark curly hair.  

3. Him being Jewish explains his love of education/knowledge. Education is extremely important in Jewish culture. Historically, all male children (and to a lesser extent female children) were taught to read and study the Torah. Moreover, as Jews were strictly limited to the types of employment they could have, education became more important to insure they held on to those limited job opportunities. There is a long tradition of Jews being teachers/tutors/court advisors to those who who did not generally tolerate Jews in their country. If I remember correctly, after Queen Isabella expelled the Jewish population from Spain in 1492, the King of Poland made a comment about gladly welcoming them into his kingdom as their knowledge would benefit his country. Segundus would have grown up with and been instilled with the love of education. He did after all go on to become a teacher and found a school of his own. 

4. Him being Jewish also explains his obsession with magic. Judaism has it’s own branch of mysticism/magic - Kabbalah. If he grew up with Kabbalat teachings - magical teachings - as being normal, of course he would become interested in English magic. (I don’t know much about Christianity, but isn’t magic/witchcraft seen as bad? Weren’t a number of women burned at the stake across Europe for it? And even within the book magic is looked down upon until Norrell restores it. What gentleman such as Segundus should have any interest in PRACTICAL magic? It is not respectable after all and Mr Segundus is as respectable a gentleman as one can be! And yet we are introduced to him wanting to know why magic is no longer preformed in England and getting ridiculed for asking it. It is a perfectly reasonable question if one has already grown up with magical teachings.)      

5. Him being Jewish also explains why he was able to see the fairy magic surrounding Lady Pole and Steven (the rose at their mouths) when no one else could. He has the sight/perspective of on outsider. He can literally see things others cannot, he has a unique perspective. (And let me tell you, growing up Jewish surrounded by Christians does give you a unique, sometimes strange perspective on things.) 

6. Him being Jewish also explains the secrecy surrounding him. The only thing we really know about Segundus is that before arriving in York, he was in London. The largest Jewish population in England has always been in London (being traced back to the 1630s). It is very possible Segundus came from a successful immigrant Jewish Italian merchant family based in London which had recently fallen on hard times. (During the time, not many families outside of the aristocracy had the money to send their sons to college and Segundus is obviously well educated.) His Jewishness could explain why he never mentions his family and tends to keep to himself. Given antisemitic feelings, he would not want to experience the pain of losing a friend (or worse) if the wrong person found out he was Jewish. (I’ve lost “friends” once they found out I was Jewish and it’s 2020.) Also, the book mentions that Segundus had to take various employment to support himself, but it was always thwarted by “ill-luck or other.” Could that ‘other’ be no more simple then his employer dismissing him once they found out he was Jewish? Segundus concealing his Jewish heritage/identity would take secrecy on his part, incredibly so if he was practicing; making excuses for disappearing every Friday at sundown until Saturday evening (Shabbat) and not going to church/resting on Sunday. Not to mention the long history/tradition of Jews concealing their faith and practicing in secret or still practicing their faith after forced conversions.  

Now I know what some of you must be thinking. This is all great meta/theorizing, but how historically realistic is all this really? Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell is after all a HISTORICALLY based novel. 

May I present British Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli, born in London to Jewish Italian merchant parents (just two years before the start of the book). 

Sounds quite a bit like our boy John Segundus doesn’t it? 

[ohveda]

First Lines meme

I was tagged by @shoreslip Thank you!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 authors!

1. Harry Goodsir really is fortunate.

2. Here beginneth a work of a sort most useful, for it shall, I pray, give hope to wretches like unto myself in their trials, and shall it also show unto mine enemies the wrongness of their deeds so that they may see how they have erred in the tormenting of this noble soul.

3. Excerpt from brochure "Welcome to Starecross Hall and Gardens", published 2015.

4. Dear readers, tonight I must tell you a tale of Mr John Segundus of Yorkshire.

5. Aziraphale joined Crowley on the sofa.

6. In the dark of Sister Agatha's workshop, she and the Count were now alone.

7. In the year 1817, one Thursday morning in March saw two men ensconced in a bed-chamber at the Old Starre Inn in York.

8. When it came to the incident with the three-headed goat-thing (there had been a proper name for it, but Yaz had forgotten what that was) in some galaxy that was too far away in both space and time, the Doctor's mood had not been the first thing that had stuck in the mind.

9. John Segundus did not much like London.

10. Imagine, if you will, a small Yorkshire village squatting quite alone amidst a great, white expanse of moorland (for it had snowed very recently).

11. In Starecross Hall there was a little parlour that Mr Segundus liked to use as his own.

12. In a courtyard within the bounds of the city there lay a nondescript building, and within this building there lay a molly house.

13. In the house of one James Delaney esq. the said master of the house could at this moment be found in the parlour, rummaging through the drawers of a desk.

14. "The Star", Starecross College of Magic alumni magazine, volume 55, issue 2, summer 2015, letters page.

15. It could have been rather easy to call John Segundus an unfortunate child.

16. One morning in early September, both Mr Norrell and Childermass were to be found in the library at Hanover Square.

17. One crisp morning in February, Mr Segundus happened to be passing through the parlour at Starecross.

18. Editing publications on behalf of Mr Norrell's cause was a difficult thing, for that man was never satisfied.

19. At the beginning of April in 1819, a week or so before Easter, John Childermass and Vinculus travelled south to Yorkshire, there to stay at Starecross Hall for the next fortnight.

20. When John Childermass was still yet a young man of twenty years or thereabouts(1) he found it suddenly expedient to leave Whitby and take up some other career.(2)

I invite anyone who wants to do this to go ahead!

[slow-burn-sally]

Jonathan Strange And Mr. Norrell (riddled with spoilers)

I finished it! I finally finished it! I just read the last page like seven minutes ago and I loved it so much! 

I have a lot to say. The gentleman is so horrible! His last story about finding Stephen’s true name by tracking down all the pieces of his mother and murdering a bunch of people??? JESUS CHRIST THAT WAS ROUGH.

Also the differences in plot between the book and the show got very pronounced during the second half of the book. There were a lot of things added in the show that didn’t happen. And things left out. Like Childermass’ conversation with the Raven King?? Poor guy. Didn’t even recognize him! And how the gentleman was crushed under a bunch of millstones rather than pulled into a tree on his dance floor at Lost Hope. How he never punished anyone (which was a relief) before Stephen killed him. 

The whole plot with Stephen being granted all of England’s power by mistake wasn’t explained in the show at all (at least not in a way I remember). It was wonderfully written and I loved that little twist that allowed him to kill the gentleman and take his thrown.

I loved Drawlight’s magical bad acid trip of being eaten alive and becoming the forest and then really loved his murder and how evil Lascelles is. And by “loved his murder” I really mean it was well written and fucked up and just amazing. Same with Strange and Norrell’s reunion and their trying to figure out how to summon the Raven King. Only, HE DOESN’T SHOW UP FOR THEM IN THE BOOK?

Also...we’re just going to assume that Lascelles was killed? By the Raven King? Hmmm. I almost forgot that there was no explicit mention of his demise. 

Where do people get the idea that Childermass and Segundus fight all the time? In the book they meet like three times? And even though one of those times involves Childermass shutting down the school, the other times they were civil. Don’t get me wrong, I love fics that have them going from enemies to friends to lovers etc (and I mean LOVE THEM), but I didn’t see the cannon support for it from the book and would love it if anyone wants to comment. 

This book is full of ships! I could see Arabella/Emma, Strange/Norrell, Strange/Childermass, Childermass/Lascelles. Not that I ship all those characters, but there are a lot of moments that support a shippy element for them. The only two I didn’t see as being very shippy were our boys, Childermass/Segundus. Which won’t stop me from shipping them in the slightest, but the show almost has more of a shippy vibe than the book and that was a little confusing. Any thoughts? Does anyone have any johnsquared quotes or book moments bookmarked that I may have missed? I did read quite a bit of this while blearily tired and late at night and may have missed something. 

Now, I finally can write my johnsquared fic! I am beyond excited. This book was fantastic and beautiful and poetic and funny and scary and a little bit sexy and very very special. <3

Ps. I still love the show too. IMO they can stand separately and have a lot of value on their own. I will definitely be rewatching it soon to look more closely at the comparisons. 

[emeraldskulblaka]

Book Review: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell

I finally finished reading Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke a couple of minutes ago.

I bought it four or five years ago partly because of its genre (historical fantasy), partly because of its excellent reviews.

Having spent between two and three weeks reading it, I can safely say that it's not a book I can recommend unless you want to read it for the language and style it's written in.

I tried so hard to love it, I really wanted to, but I must admit that I failed quite miserably. Maybe it's just not for me, maybe the countless fans whose reviews I've read have been influenced by the language of the book and the reviews by famous authors to believe that they've read a masterpiece, or that they'd sound uneducated if they said they didn't enjoy it. However, it's probably the first option - it's just not for me, despite the fact that many aspects of it had the potential to make it my new favourite book.

Still, I have positive things to say:

the language and style - heavenly. Reminiscent of 19th century prose, written in the 1990s and 2000s. Extraordinarily beautiful, A+.

the characters - thoroughly interesting, most of them relatable, or, at least recognisable. I say MOST, because this doesn't apply to all of them. Also loved the lack of description of the nature of the fairies and Fairie - I had to build up my impressions of them solely from background information and interactions, yet couldn't explain my impression to anyone despite having a clear picture and understanding of them. Quite interesting!

all the references to historical events and persons mixed with completely made-up facts. It was fun to pick apart history and fiction.

the use of footnotes in general.

Nevertheless, the negative aspects sadly drowned out the positive ones.

the lack of a clear plot. One might argue that this is the POINT, but I simply expect a 1000-page novel to have some sort of... direction. Reviewers have pointed out that it's about the relationship between the two magicians Strange and Norrell, but sadly, only a very small part is dedicated to these two together - they spend most of their time apart. Their relationship is outlined at best, and I had no idea what to expect when they worked together again at the end.

the excessive use of footnotes. I love a good footnote, but most of them contained information totally irrelevant to the rest of the book and cut up the little pieces of plot in existence.

the characterisation. It did its job, but very badly. I don't have much to say about it, and this point stands in objection with the positive aspect regarding the characters above, but I guess it's because due to the lack of good characterisation, I built up my own, which clashed a lot with what the characters ended up doing.

the narrator's voice. Sometimes overwhelmingly present (a lot of 'I's, opinions, etc., sometimes completely absent. It wasn't clear how the narrator related to the story.

the lack of rules concerning magic. Sometimes spells worked, sometimes they didn't. Sometimes solutions were right at hand, sometimes people pondered over things that seemed so much more doable than what had already been done before. Perhaps it's inherently faulty to wish for logic in magic, but with all those theoretical and book-addicted magicians, I'd have expected more.

major logical errors. I can't reveal much more without spoiling the book - two examples shall suffice: the fairy's obsession with Stephen Black. Just... why? Plus, Strange never noticing anything magical about Lady Pole, while Segundus notices it when he first sees her.

large time gaps in between chapters. Characters never showing any signs of ageing.

lack of coherence between chapters, too many unnecessary digressions.

Yes, the book had potential. Poor storytelling simply destroyed it, and rendered it completely unenjoyable for me personally.

I'm the last person to complain about digressions (I love Les Misérables dearly, and it's infamous for lengthy digressions), lack of actual storytelling (the Silmarillion is a source of boredom for everyone not devoted to the world of Tolkien) and to demand rules for magic of all things, but, no matter how I look at Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, I simply can't praise it as 'ravishing... a masterpiece' (Time), 'gorgeous' (People) or 'magnificent' (Washington Post). It lacks a compelling plot and didn't manage to draw me in.

[mythopoeticreality]

I'm greedy and I will give you two words for the drabble thing. for our bird boy Uskers (paired with anyone!), I want Baisemain - A kiss on the hand! for our Starecrossed Lovers John & John, I'd like to request Lygerastia - the condition of one who is only amorous when the lights are out. ... please and thank you! :)

Okay, okay, ai! So, right, I’d meant to get this written a lot sooner just...what happened was I’d started writing the piece for Uskers and that kind of....grew? Like, I mean, two weeks later I’m still working on it and it has like...chapters now?! >.< So yeah. But also I felt really badly for keeping you waiting this long, so I figure it was time to start moving on and get the Childermass/Segundus fic written in the meantime while I’m still working on the other one, so...yeah. Anyway,I am slow and I’ve taken forever and I’m really sorry for keeping you waiting!

Anyway! This is actually the first Johnsquared fic that I’ve ever written! I’ve always been kind of intimidated, especially by Childermass, but it was really fun as well! I have to admit, I have a bit of a weakness for slowburn stuff, so this one is a bit more focused on Segundus’s emerging attraction and such, but I really do hope you enjoy it :)

Again, I really am sorry this took so long, and the fic with The Raven King (which is most certainly not a drabble at this point, but...) is on it’s way soon-ish too, I hope.  Anyway, without further ado: 

It took some getting used to. The trees, the wood, the great looming shadow-shapes that towered over them standing at all sides, limbs reaching out in the night like gnarled, bony hands grasping out…. 

In some parts of Faerie, their dislike made the air so thick it felt as though he were drowning in cold honey, his head feeling light, his motions feeling slowed, dragging, to the point where he was stumbling over himself, and only the attentiveness of his companion got him through, leaning heavily against Childermass’s shoulder as the man half-carried him to a place where in the various Elms and Oaks were merely loftily disapproving of these small creatures walking across their roots, rather than outwardly hateful. 

Sometimes, Segundus wondered if this was how an ant felt, marching across a ladies’ picnic blanket.

Well, it was no matter, he supposed. All for the futherment of English Magic, all for the betterment of their knowledge! And was that not worth some small discomfort on his part? He kept telling himself so, in any case.

Still, as they’d settled themselves down for the night, and Segundus sat there, still rattled and still shaking, there was a part of him that could not help but look on with some jealousy at the figured sprawled so carelessly out across the bed of moss and undergrowth between the roots of an ancient oak tree. Vinculus, as peaceful and content as a babe in the cradle --albeit one that snored like a hog.

Shaking his head he turned away from the sight,  “Are your cards telling you anything?” He asked, absently, glancing back towards Childermass. “About the path we should take? Where we are to go tomorrow?��

Eyes flickering upwards, just long enough to quirk a brow at Segundus, Childermass allowed a soft snort to escape him. He turned down to the spread set before him, flipping over the next card. “I’ve just begun yet, Mr. Segundus.” He replied, “Give them a chance to do their work.” Despite the chiding, there was something almost -- almost fond in the words, and Segundus couldn’t help the small smile he felt tugging at his lips. He ducked his head a little at the foolishness of it.

Ridiculous, that was what it was. Absolute foolishness. And yet still, to even hear that fondness in Childermass’s voice? To watch him while doing magic --oh especially now, his eyes so intent upon the cards before him, reflecting the glow of the few burning embers still remaining from the fire that had been burning beside them. His features were carved from moonlight and shadow, hair drifting in the breeze that fluttered through…

He had always looked wild, of course. That first meeting that he could remember, did Segundus not compare him to a character brought out of a novel? But in these moments, it was to truly see him as a magician.

It was only as a low curse escaped Childermass that Segundus realized he was staring. He blinked, coming back suddenly to himself, his face flushing hot (and he could not be more thankful for the darkness.) There was not long to dwell on the matter however. Childermass was already on his feet, and Segundus was not long in following him, realizing the wind had picked up and all around the cards were scattering.

Following one that fluttered to the ground a yard or so off, Segundus swept down, grabbing at it --only to feel his breath catch. A hand, rough, and calloused and warm lay on top of his own. His gaze was drawn upward, to meet Childermass’s own dark eyes. He knelt so near he could feel the heat of the other man’s breath brushing against his neck. 

It made something twist in John Segundus’s core. It made the skin along his arms prickle to be that near to the other man. And in that silent moment that passed between them he found himself thinking that it would really be nothing at all if he were to just lean forward, close what little distance remained between them…

He nearly lept back, realizing the thoughts passing through his mind. Snatching the card up, he handed it back to Childermass. The other man was staring back at him, head canted just to the side, a faint smirk just touching at his lips as he drew himself upright out of his crouch. He glanced at the card as he took it back, grunting out a short “thank you,” to Segundus, breathing a short huff, before flicking his thumb over the card’s edge and striding back to his previous place.

For a moment, Segundus might have said he caught Childermass slipping back a glance over his shoulder, back towards him as he followed. But no, that could not have been!

Madder still, he thought he’d caught which card it was he’s given back to Childermass. A man and a woman, without a scrap of clothing between the two of them printed on the card, standing there beneath the sun and the outstretched wings of an angel. Written beneath them, the card’s title: Les Amoureux.  The Lovers.

[woodsmokeandwords]

"The hours after English magic had been restored, duly restored - he still marvelled at the concept - were strangely mundane. Mr Childermass, his face still bleeding, had ridden off in a great hurry and returned hours later, quiet and wan with the look of a man trying to remember something that kept slipping away." Segundus has questions, Childermass has an wound that needs tending to. I shan't pretend this is anything other than indulgently trope-y. My first foray into writing JS&MN fic after years in the fandom Read on AO3 above or keep reading below

The hours after English magic had been restored, duly restored - he still marvelled at the concept - were strangely mundane. Mr Childermass, his face still bleeding, had ridden off in a great hurry and returned hours later, quiet and wan with the look of a man trying to remember something that kept slipping away. With him came the somehow even more bedraggled Vinculus, throat covered in bruises that no one could look at for very long. But before they had returned, a hundred questions tripping in at their heels like wind blown autumn leaves, the house had been... normal. More normal than it had been for months. With the faerie’s enchantment lifted the shifting, labyrinthine passageways of Starecross had ceased their slow merger with the Other Lands and become once more confusing in a reliably mortal way. The overpowering press of faerie magic had ebbed away like the tide and in its place Segundus had sat quietly with what he gradually began to appreciate as the comforting presence of His Own Magic. If he concentrated he could still feel the spell tingling in his fingertips, akin to the last traces of pins and needles. Lady Pole had been fussed over by the cook and the maid and was now settled in the parlour with a stack of paper and pen and ink, furiously committing her experiences in thrall to the faerie to paper. Segundus had not asked what she intended to do with this record of her mistreatment at the hands of Norrell, she might send it to the Prime Minister, or to The Times, or both and be completely justified, in his opinion. He did not need to know, all of England would know soon enough. The lady had been silenced long enough and one did not need to be particularly attentive to see that her anger was as a storm that has long since been sighted on the horizon breaking at last. Whilst Lady Pole seemed to brim with energy, Segundus found that he was sorely lacking in it. The tingling in his fingers was accompanied by a slight tremor, as though after strenuous activity, although he had performed none. Except the magic. Childermass’ words continued to ring in his head - Do The Magic - over and over. Well, he had done it and now they would have to see. He sat at the quiet kitchen table and watched the sun begin to slip down the sky. First to meet the trees on the distant hills, their bare winter branches like spidery writing against the pale February sky, and then to glare at him from between their twisted trunks and finally to wink at him from behind the crests of the hills until its comforting warmth disappeared from the kitchen and he was left with the glow from the hearth at his back and a cooling cup of tea sheltering between his tingling hands. 
 -

A great banging pulls him from his reveries. He has lost track of the hour, the sun is fully set and his tea is cold and only half drunk. The banging comes again and slowly he realises that it is the front door.

-

The door wrenches open and reveals Mr Segundus, who blinks at him from the gloom of the entrance hall. Childermass steps forward into the scant light escaping past Mr Segundus and out into the night. Vinculus, half leaning into him, half propped against the porch, comes with him like flotsam. “We had not expected you back, Mr Childermass?” “They are gone.” He hears himself reply, and adds “Strange and Mr Norrell.” belatedly realising this might need some explanation. “Gone? Gone where?” his large brown eyes are full of questions and sincerity. “I do not know.” Childermass sighs and gestures passed Segundus into the hall. It is at this moment that Segundus seems to take in Vinculus’ near-prone form and his manners catch up with his curiosity. “Please, do come in!” He says, stepping aside to allow them entry. “I put Brewer in your stables, I hope you don’t mind?” “No, no, of course not. Mr Childermass, what happened?” Childermass heaves Vinculus onto the settle in the hallway and looks away as the man slumps back in his seat and his hands wander towards the cruel bruising on his throat. He meets Segundus’ gaze and almost as one their eyes travel down to the blood soaking the cuff on his left wrist. “Many things. More than I think I can remember presently.” “How do you mean?” Segundus’ careful examination of him transfers from his wrist to his face, to the cut on his cheek that is somehow no longer a cut. “I cannot yet say...”

Mr Segundus was too polite a host to badger him with the questions Childermass could see he was brimming with. At least not straight away. And so he is settled in one of the empty guest rooms, Vinculus installed in another, and left to himself. The maid brings in a steaming pitcher of water and a bowl and is followed by the footman with his saddlebags, he nods his thanks as they leave the room. For some time he stands, caught in a web of indecision, unable to do anything but stare at the worn leather of the saddlebags that contain his possessions. He is a frugal man, he has never had many things, let alone an attachment to them, but in this moment it seems important to him that he has them with him. Some record of his life in physical form. He had watched Hurtfew vanish. Swept out of existence in a whirl of darkness and stars and with it a significant part of England’s magical future. Regardless of what Vinculus believed.

As if dazed he strips off his greatcoat, jacket and waistcoat. His reflection in the small mirror above the dresser is pallid against the gory mess of his shirt. He had thought he had caught the blood from his face but in actuality it has soaked into his neckcloth and the collar and shoulder of his shirt. He begins to remove them and set them aside, he’ll scrub the blood out later, he does not have the luxury of many shirts, but stops with it clutched in his hands as he catches sight of the cuts he had made to his forearm. Unlike his face they have not healed without explanation and the few King’s letters he had managed stand out raw and angry against the pale skin of his arm. Bloody fool Had he really thought to carve The Book into his own flesh? Looking at the poor job he’d done he is relieved he had dismissed the idea. Childermass splashes his face with water, then uses his ruined neckcloth to wipe the dried blood from his skin and goes to fetch his spare shirt from his bags. Back in front of the mirror the glisten of water on top of the scar on his cheek catches his attention and he leans in the better to see it. Healed, perfectly. As if it were years old and not mere hours. How? He brushes his fingers across it and in that touch feels the ghost of another, there is something... parental in it? And he remembers black hair but he cannot now be sure if he is remembering something from that afternoon or the shade of his mother, some scrap of half forgotten memory from his childhood. However it was done, it is fortunate. Lascelle’s knife had been sharp and it had cut deep, there is not a doctor or barber-surgeon around for miles who could have repaired his face so neatly.

A clock somewhere in the house chimes and he takes a breath, as if he has been underwater. It shudders into his lungs. He takes another. And then one more. Careful not to jostle his forearm and restart the bleeding he dons his clean shirt and his waistcoat, he has nothing with which to bind the evidence of his foolishness on the moor and so will have to prevail once again on Mr Segundus’ hospitality. 

-

 Segundus for want of company had returned to the kitchen. He’d had soup from luncheon, some hot toast and a pot of tea sent up to Vinculus after Mr Childermass’ back had disappeared up the stairs and suddenly without an immediate purpose he had felt melancholy. He kept returning to the words Childermass had spoken on the doorstep; they are gone. But where had they gone? Were they coming back? How were they to go on without the foremost magicians of the land? What was to be done? They were questions that he sensed were without answers, or at least not simple answers at any rate. 
Sarah was finishing the washing up in the corner and the clatter of crockery and pans was a welcome, grounding racket for his mind which felt like it might be on the verge of flying away, spiralling up into the aether like a sparrow in flight. 

 “Oh, sir- Mr Segundus?” he glances over his shoulder and sees Sarah, drying her wet hands on her apron, looking between him and the doorway. Standing at the top of the two steps down into the kitchen is Childermass. He is in his shirtsleeves, with the left sleeve rolled up exposing the raw skin of his forearm, bearing strangely shaped wounds that stand out grotesquely from his pale skin. And he is pale, more so than he ever usually is, there is a sunken, defeated look in his eyes that makes something in Segundus’ chest ache. They have never been close, they have never even been on good terms. Any potential for acquaintanceship would have withered under the oppressive knowledge of who Childermass served, even if Segundus had contemplated such a connexion. The scant few times they had met he had been under the distinct impression that he was on the back foot and forces outside of his control had manoeuvred them into position, whether that force was Norrell, English magic, fate or simply Childermass’ own mysterious machinations Segundus could never have said. 
“Thank you, Sarah. Please feel free to go to bed, the washing up can be finished in the morning.” he does not take his eyes off of Childermass as he speaks, in his periphery the girl executes a clumsy curtsy and walks quickly towards the door, head down. Childermass steps backwards to let her pass and she awkwardly half-nods-half-curtsies to him too. 

Segundus watches as the blank expression on his face is replaced by something faintly bemused as he descends the steps onto the flagstone floor of the kitchen. It is gone again however when he looks up and their eyes meet over the large table. 
“She is rather new.” Segundus says to break the silence, Childermass nods once. 
 “I’m sorry to trouble you, Mr Segundus but have you anything with which I might bind this?” He gestures vaguely to his wounded arm and Segundus makes himself look away from his eyes for the fist time in minutes. 
 “I- Oh. Oh yes, of course. Just one moment.” He half turns, trying to remember where they keep the cloth set aside for exactly this purpose, hesitates and then, “please, have a seat. I’ll be back in a moment.” He pulls out the chair he had been sitting in a little further and hurries off to fetch the bandages. 
 They keep a box of neatly trimmed strips of linen in the upstairs landing closet. He remembers distinctly when Stephen Black had quietly informed him that Lady Pole had once been in the habit of hurting herself and Segundus had that very afternoon sent into town for two yards of linen and had sat up that evening cutting it into strips and rolling them himself. Whilst he is there he fetches a clean cloth and then brings his bundle of supplies back down to the kitchen. Childermass is sitting at the table examining his arm with care, he glances up when Segundus sets the roll of bandages and the cloth down on the table. 
“How did it happen, Mr Childermass? It is a strange injury.” he asks as he goes to the dresser and retrieves a clean bowl, fills it with a little cold water and places it on the table next to the bandages. 
“You will think me a fool, sir, but I did it myself.” Segundus halts only for a moment in the act of placing the kettle on the hook over the fire. 
“If you did such a thing, I suspect there was a very good reason for it.”
 “There was, although it proved needless in the end. A good thing, for no matter your tactfulness, it was indeed foolish.” He looks towards where the kettle hangs above the flames in the grate, “you will not have seen in the dark but Vinculus… Vinculus is very special. He- Did you ever hear of the Book of the Raven King, sir?” 
“Only vague allusions to it in theoretical texts, nothing tangible.” Childermass nods, seemingly to himself, at this. “I do not know how it came to be but Vinculus is that book. It is written on his skin, has been since his birth and today he insists that he is changed. That he does not say what he said before.”
 “What?” Segundus cannot help his stunned reaction. He drops into one of the other chairs at the table.
 “Just so… When I found him on the moor he was hanged. I… I had to cut him down and as I laid him on the earth I saw it there on his skin, in a strange alphabet. Having no ink or paper I could not think of a way to replicate it and in a moment of foolishness thought to cut it into my own skin.” Childermass is looking down again at the marks on his arm, large and jagged and surely no approximation for the words he says cover Vinculus’ own skin. 
 “Mr Childermass-” he gasps and covers his mouth.
 “Now you see, foolishness.”
 “But,” he says collecting himself, “how can it be that Vinculus was hanged when he is currently upstairs eating toast?”
 “I cannot account for it, sir. If I understood it at all I would tell you.” he shakes his head again and wipes a hand over his face momentarily covering his eyes. It is then that the kettle starts to boil so Segundus gets up and removes it from the fire, pouring a little of the hot water into the bowl and the rest into his teapot from earlier. He pulls out the chair next to Childermass and sits down in it before spooning an extra helping of leaves into the pot. 
 “May I see your arm, Mr Childermass?” he asks and Childermass twists in his chair and offers out his left arm. The cuts are fairly shallow and mercifully clean of any dirt but the curving letters Childermass tried to replicate have cruel edges and it looks painful. Segundus very gently takes the proffered arm and dipping his cloth into the bowl of warm water ever so lightly draws it across the wounds. He squeezes it slightly and lets the water drip onto them before wiping away the excess. He continues for some time and is surprised when Childermass speaks. 
“I appreciate this, Mr Segundus.” Childermass sounds awkward and slightly gruffer than usual, Segundus feels himself colour and is glad he has an excuse not to look up. It is a long moment before he can think of a proper response. 
“Please, think nothing of it. I would be a poor sort of colleague not to offer my help.”
 “Colleague?”
 “Are we not both magicians now, sir?” Segundus sets his cloth aside and reaches for the bandages. 
 “I suppose we are.” Childermass says and shifts a little in his seat. They are quiet for some time as Segundus winds the bandage around Childermass arm and ties off the end. When he has done this he stands and fetches a clean cup and saucer from the dresser and fills it with tea before setting it in front of Childermass. 
“I had not thought to find you here.” Childermass says, glancing between Segundus and the cup of tea that has been placed in front of him. “In the kitchen? It is not befitting of a gentleman, I know, but I like to sit here to think.”
 “Your staff do not mind?” 
 “There is not such a vast amount of difference between them and myself, Mr Childermass. I have been a bachelor for many years and until recently… Well, you are aware that I was not a man of means. I still am not, were it not for the kindness of Mrs Lennox I would not be in the position I am currently in.” he busies himself with fetching a plate and cutting two slices of bread which he then sets about toasting. 
“There are not a great many gentleman who would bandage the arm of a servant, or make him tea.” Childermass says quietly and Segundus hums noncommittally. 
“No, I suppose not but I do not mind being unlike them if it means that I helped a person in need.” he finishes toasting the bread at that moment and almost as if to reinforce his stance on helpfulness sets it down on the plate beside Childermass’ tea. “We have some fresh butter in the pantry, and cheese? Or perhaps honey?” he asks. 
 “Just butter is fine, thank you, Mr Segundus.”

 - 

 He has been watching the gentleman bustle about the kitchen making tea and toasting bread and now he watches as Mr Segundus fetches the butter dish from the pantry for him with a sense of surreal detachment. He is very conscious of the fact that he has been a thorn in this man’s side for ten years and yet has found nothing but kindness under his roof this evening.
 “Here you are.” Segundus says, returning with the butter and resuming his seat at the table. His chair is still close from when he was bandaging Childermass’ arm, he seems to realise this halfway through sitting down and rises again to nudge it backwards slightly. 
 “My thanks.” Childermass manages. 

He is almost grateful for the overwhelming weariness that sets in as he eats his toast, it falls over him like a quilt, blanketing many of the concerns that have been rattling around in his head since he saw Vinculus hanging from the twisted branches of the hawthorn tree. A grim tableau against the windswept, desolate moor. Mr Segundus does not seem to mind the silence, his is a comforting presence as he carefully sips his tea and stares at a knot in the wood of the table. 
 “Who else knows about Vinculus?” he asks quietly, surprising Childermass. 
“No one. My master knew he had a book, Vinculus boasted of it to him many years ago, but Mr Norrell never saw it, I searched for it to no end for some time.”
 “You mentioned- You said earlier that- that they are gone, Mr Strange and Mr Norrell. What did you mean?” Mr Segundus is looking at him, his large brown eyes full of questions again. Childermass sighs and leans back in his chair. 
 “We rode from the tree to Hurtfew and found it vanished. I left as Mr Strange arrived with his pillar of night that we have heard so much about in the last weeks and when I returned with Vinculus it was simply as if the Abbey had been cut out of the countryside.”
 “But how?”
 “I am not certain, it was as if it had been unpicked and the space either side of where it was stitched back together, edge to edge. Vinculus said it was the King’s doing. His spell spinning out to its natural end.”
 “I do not think I understand.” Segundus frowns down at his hands, clasped in his lap like a schoolboy. 
 “I am sorry, sir. I’m afraid I am doing a bad job of explaining anything tonight.” 
“No, it is I who should apologise, you are exhausted and I am plying you with questions. Please, Mr Childermass, answer no more of them and go and get some sleep. We can talk more on the morrow.” Segundus looks up then and smiles apologetically at him. 
 “I’m much obliged to you for your kindness this evening, sir. I will do my best to set everything out clearly in the morning, two heads are better than one as they say and two magicians are sure to have more success than one alone also.” 
“Goodnight, Mr Childermass”


 - 

In the bright, winter sunshine drenching the dining table the following morning Childermass does his best to explain to Mr Segundus and to an imperiously inquisitive Lady Pole exactly what he had seen first upon the moor and then later at Hurtfew. Neither of them have much more insight into the matter than he himself does but Lady Pole does have a few choice words on the subject of unreliable, meddling magicians, present company only somewhat excluded. 
In the days that follow, when the letters trickle in and reports of the disappearance of not just Hurtfew but of the houses at Ashfair, Hanover Square and Soho Square begin to surface, Mr Segundus and Childermass do their best to respond to them together. Careful not to say too much to their associates and acquaintances, mindful of events progressing too quickly. 

Some two weeks later Sir Walter arrives to meet with Lady Pole and the two magicians absent themselves to the far reaches of the garden when the ensuing shouting match between the couple proves too loud for them to pretend they are giving them any privacy from the next room. 
 “I think I shall go to York soon.” Childermass says, watching a snowflake settle on the leaf of a holly bush. 
 “You will go through with it then? Call a meeting of the York Society?"
 “I will, it is time they knew.” 
“They will wish to meddle.”
 “Let them, unlike Her Ladyship I am of the opinion that some good can come of meddlesome magicians. After all, without your intervention things may be very different.” Childermass drags his eyes away from the holly bush and watches the pink flush on Mr Segundus’ cheeks that was already present from the chill air deepen considerably. 
“There are some days that I wonder what would have happened if I had not asked the question.” Mr Segundus replies, a little wistfully. 
 “Do not wonder, Mr Segundus. In fact,” he says, a winding path unfurling before him in his minds eye, “I think I should like you to be at this meeting and ask another question.”

 The end

[beatrice-otter]

Yuletide Recs 2019

Happy Yuletide, everyone! First, I got a delightful little fic written for me: promenade.  My Fair Lady, Eliza Doolittle and Mrs. Higgins.  Wonderful story.  Mrs. Higgins was superb, and Eliza's reactions to the English upper class abroad are perfect. Here are some other fics I have enjoyed: 4'33"--John Cage The Sound Of A Yuletide Fic Not Being Written. There sure are a lot of cars going by.  Great meta look at writing, and 4'33" The Addams Family (movies) An Addams Family Contract (Written in Secret, Signed in Blood).  “I’m an Addams,” Debbie protests indignantly. Immediately after making this statement, Debbie realized that it was true.  (Or, Wednesday wants to exorcise Debbie. Debbie wants to kill Wednesday. A negotiation begins.)  This is AMAZING and hysterically funny, and the thought of Debbie and Wednesday working together is TERRIFYING. Don't I Deserve Love (and Jewelry).  The plan to win Wednesday’s friendship did not start well. She shared her admiration for the girl’s blowtorch, then hinted about her own childhood affinity for matchsticks and fire accelerants, but Wednesday was unimpressed.  Do better,” she said before lowering her hockey mask and stalking after Pubert. Honeymoon in Transylvania.  Ahahahaha, this is wonderful.  Gomez and Morticia vs. the TSA! Alien Series A Room with a Crappy View. 17k of Ripley and Hicks awesomeness post-Aliens. This is an absolutely AMAZEBALLS fic, and I LOVE it. I love that they deal with their trauma. I love how they wrote the Colonel, doing the best she could on the evidence she had and how frustrating that was and yet, when you look at it from her POV, what better way could she have handled it? The action is great, the relationships between Ripley and Hicks and Bishop were awesome, this is an absolute treat. All About Eve Getting Back to Being a Woman.  Karen knew enough not to go to New Haven.  Never let it be said that Margo Channing doesn't know how to take care of her friends.  I love this. I could just hear Bette Davis and the others saying their lines, and the ending is perfect--I think Karen and Lloyd will be able to have a much better relationship after this, if he's willing to accept and live into the changed relationship. Till I have the possession of everything she touches.  Addison DeWitt/Eve Harrington and their daughter.  VERY well done Addison perspective. Aubrey-Maturin series. Vent de Boulet.  Jack & Aubrey, Teen.  The aftermath of Stephen's escape from the French interrogators at Port Mahon.  Wonderful portrayal of the relationship between them and natural consequences of their trauma-filled lives. Babette's Feast Body and Soul.  After the French dinner, a new normal established itself among the faithful. Ballet Shoes A Long Way from the Cromwell Road.  Petrova visits Pauline in Hollywood after the war ends. Bletchley Circle Logical Recovery.  After the showdown with Marta Magro at the warehouses, Jean, Millie, and Lucy embark for Glasgow to find Eliška. Archival research, an extended stay with Jean's cousin, undercover rescue missions, and much emotional processing of past events ensue. Cabaret Infinite Variety.  London, 1950. Clifford has coming looking for Sally. Instead he finds a girl who may or may not be her – or their – daughter, the reclusive former Master of Ceremonies, and an annoying parrot. He becomes part of their strange household, full of love and bickering; sorrow, pain and music. No-one will tell him where Sally is, or even whether she’s alive. No-one will tell him anything. Except the parrot, who tells him that life is a Cabaret.  Oh, wow, this is painful but SO GOOD and the ending is perfect. DC Teen Titans From Cold to Fire.  "Do you want to go out with me?" "What?" Young Justice Getting Stupid in your area.  Hang-time includes considerations of evil clones and taking down a newly raised lich lord.  Love the banter. Die Hard Your Answers Please.  “Come on, kid,” McClane said gruffly. “This place is fucking depressing. You’re coming to stay with me.” Enchanted Forrest Chronicles Best Served Cold.  In which Antorell causes trouble in the Enchanted Forest, and Cimorene and Alianora make an amphibious new friend.  Hilarious, I love Ribbita! Ghostbusters Better Than Roses. Janine dates. It's...something. The Goblin Emperor Imperial (non) Immunity.  Csevet doesn't get sick. Maia's not so confident. Light a Mourner's Candle.  The Archprelate finds a chaplain for Maia. Against a Sure Winter.  When the opportunity arose to become one of the four ceremonial bodyguards for the new Emperor, Cala Athmaza volunteered. He didn't fully realize what he was letting himself in for, but he knew in his heart he had made the right choice. Sugar Lumps.  Maia spends some time with his horse. Greek Mythology beauty, her artificers.  Shortly after their wedding, Aphrodite sustains a small wound.  Really great Aphrodite/Hephaestus dynamic. a thing of beauty, golden.  Olympus’ one-century wonder appears in Hephaestus’ workshop between one strike on his anvil and the next..  Another really great Aphrodite/Hephaestus fic. Hancock yeah I know the shortcut, rather take the long way. Ray daydreams a New York that looks a lot like something out of an old Daredevil comic - towers looming over the city like cragged, jaded sentries, impartial to the neon kaleidoscope of chaos churning along below them. Hancock roosts on the tallest, craggiest one of course, brooding as he watches the slow pulsing heartbeat of the city below him. Ready to dive off his perch and into action with the first cry of distress, and there’s probably lots of those in a city like New York. Lots of zooming around, saving people, saving the world. Hopefully with slightly less metaphorical middle fingers to the world. And less alcohol. Ray’s not an idiot though, and one sparkly life-changing month doesn’t just fix people. History RPF 15th Century. these late eclipses.  Anne Neville, like others of her line, is born with a gift.  I LOVE the way magic is brought into this, it melds so well with the history. 19th Century/German folklore The Bargain.  Bettina finds a secret door at her grandmother's house, one that leads to something very unexpected. The things she learns as a result change her life in small but important ways. Imperial Radch Still Left in Want of Mercy.  The Republic of Two Systems is about a month old. Seivarden is having yet another crisis - can Mercy of Kalr get her through it? Maybe, with the crew's and Fleet Captain's help.  Interesting Ship perspective. high above the trees.  An unexpected embassy. Really excellent, probably the best way I've ever seen "Awn Lives" done. The Incredibles Life of a Superhero, Junior Grade.  Fortunately, this was Tuesday night training, not a real villain-chasing experience. Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell The Magicians of Starecross Hall.  Being a series of interludes in the life of John Segundus, newly practical magician, in the year following the disappearances of Messrs. Strange and Norrell. Including: a new school for young magicians, explorations of the King’s Roads, Lady Pole’s alarming needle-work, unanticipated trips to Faerie, and John Childermass.  I love this story!  How the school got started, and 'Miss Wintertowne' (although I do think she would style herself 'Mrs' Wintertowne, because she is married and up through the 18th Century 'Mistress/Mrs' vs. 'Miss' had as much to do with age and experience and such as it did with marital status) and how she uses embroidery as a kind of art therapy.  I love the slow burn, and I love the stuff about exploring the King's Roads and Faerie.  It is excellent and awesome. Lilo & Stitch The Dance.  Lilo peeked out from behind the curtains and looked over the stage. A Little Princess Discipulae.  "I just realized," Sara said. "Becky, I could have a tutor now. I could hire someone to teach me anything I wanted. All the things that are hard to learn alone from books — Greek and Latin, Sanskrit, algebra, anything I wanted. What would you learn, Becky, if you could?"  Really great look at what their lives could be like post-canon. Marvel Captain Marvel Take my hand (and we'll march to the front lines). There's a dream Vers has sometimes. this youthful heart can love you. Carol waited a week before she left with the Skrulls. Space Cases.  Monica tried many other times to win her mother over to a pet. A rabbit, a pony, a parakeet. This is not any of those stories. This is the story of Monica Rambeau and a Flerken named Goose.  Or: Why Nick Fury is never allowed to babysit ever again. The Tesseract's Wife.  A straight line is not the shortest distance between two points: non-linear snapshots of a love story. Fly Me To The Moon.  "It's a vacation. Like spring break," Carol says. Monica's eyes widen. "Really? So we can hang out? What are we going to do?" "Well," Carol says, leaning back in her chair and flashing that old, familiar smirk. "I thought we could go to the moon." Into the Spiderverse i got you.  Miles thinks he's hiding the truth about Spider-Man, but one unfortunate night, it comes to light. one last leap.  Telling his parents he's Spider-Man is a leap of faith Miles can't bring himself to take. My Life to Liv.  Liv survived her encounters with her interdimensional Spider-nemeses, of course. So what's next for her? Interdimensional Phone Pals.  Gwen Stacy is many things, but open to friendships isn’t really one of them.  Or,  Five rules Gwen makes for herself, and how Peter B. makes her question them. Into the Spiderverse/Murder, She Wrote Spider, She Wrote.  Miles and May visit her old friend Jessica in Cabot Cove. Mulan (1998) the proper order of things. Great outsider perspective. The Mummy After the Mummy.  London was becoming Rick's least favourite place, and not just because of all the rain. Loving Evy was one thing: figuring out whether she loved him back after the Egyptian heat faded away was something else. Where's a good rising of the undead when you need one? Don't worry, Jonathan found one.  Lovely fun adventure. Course Correction.  Jonathan really is serious about staying away from tombs and mummies this time (except trouble always seems to find him). Good thing Ardeth is there to help him stay on-track. Travelers by Night.  Very quickly, Jonathan weighed the odds. On one hand, potential death, whether by armed bandits, a mummy’s curse, or people who looked like bandits and who were very angry about someone unleashing a mummy’s curse. On the other hand, potential riches, home ground, and topics of conversation other than what happened at school fifteen years ago and who got it in the neck where. Murderbot How I Spent My Vacation Between Survey Missions. What happens when ART reunites with Murderbot during another break between research survey missions? Media gets viewed, of course, but there might also be some bad news for more shady corporations. Situation Normal.  Hi, I said, along with amusement sigil 159 = wave. It seemed a little inadequate, but what do you say to the ship that radically altered your appearance, helped you figure out your past, and also threatened you with terrifying weapons? Amusement sigils seemed like my best bet. My Fair Lady Here We Are Together.  Eliza and Freddy are working together. Henry isn't happy, and makes sure everyone knows it. One Day at a Time what they say about the young. Without the kids around, it feels like everything has changed, except for all the other things about Penelope's life that could change, too. a return to normal.  Penelope and Schneider's Friday night plans fall through, so they have a movie night instead.  Very sweet. Persuasion. The Pen in Their Hands. Five letters that were written, but were never sent, aboard H.M.S. Laconia. (And one that was.) Smooth Water. “If I wanted easy comfort, I should not have become a captain’s wife.” Wonderful Austen voice. A Step Not Taken.  What if that day at Lyme had gone just a little differently? Peter Wimsey The Duke's Parlormaid.  A story in correspondence, with detective interruptions.  Really captured the feel of the books and all the character voices. Poirot The Mice Will Play.  When Poirot returns unexpectedly from a case, he finds out something new about Miss Lemon. RED The One Bathtub.  “I did have dinner plans,” Han said, grudgingly, and so Victoria kicked the door in and graciously allowed Han to be the first into the bathroom. She understood the pain of missed reservations. Rivers of London Through All the Years, This Is My Home.  At night, when the rest of the staff and most, if not all, of the masters were asleep, Molly would wander the moonlit halls and remember what fresh air felt like on her skin. Of Molly, of Thomas, and of the years they've spent together - and of the Folly, strong and everlasting.  Lovely Molly perspective. Peelian Principles.  "You're very calm about this," Seawoll said on the fifth day.  Nightingale's perspective on Peter's time as a hostage, and REALLY AWESOME. UXB.  When one the deadliest weapons of the Blitz threatens London once again, Peter finds himself on the front line.  Wonderful casefic, just perfect. Saved! Conversation Starters. Cassandra and Roland have five important conversations. Sense and Sensibility Realization and Renewal.  As Marianne recovers, Elinor and Colonel Brandon find themselves drawn to one another. Sense8 Blue and Gold.  Wolfgang comes home with Kala and Rajan after Paris. Finding a place with them. Star Trek: Rihannsu Day Comes Up New.  "I have done something spectacularly stupid," Arrhae said.  This is a wonderful extension and meditation on what might happen past canon.  Ever since I first read The Romulan Way as a teen, I've wondered what happened to Arrhae in the end, and the subsequent books were great but didn't answer the ultimate question.  This doesn't either, but it suggests something further, which I appreciate. Terminator Movies A Fistful of Sarahs.  The sky cracks open, and Sarah watches herself tumble out of a rift in the space time continuum. She’s older than she is now, and she’s got a lot more scars, and she’s carrying the biggest and weirdest looking gun Sarah’s ever seen. with all the hope in my heart (and doubt in my mind). Sarah Connor has done this before. Dani has not. Post-Terminator: Dark Fate. Fate, the Future, and Other Sons of Bitches.  Sarah and Dani hit the road. Winnie the Pooh In Which Pooh Hunts for the Meaning of Christmas.  Pooh finds a mysterious envelope pinned to the door of his house. In Which Eeyore Loses His Tail Again, Or At Least Plans To.  It's a bright, sunny day, and Eeyore has a plan to make it tolerable. Now if only his friends will cooperate.