☆ Round One!

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An Investigation Into The Effects Of Penwell (1/?)

[(Anonymous)]

There *might* be five parts to this, but I'm not sure yet. I'm posting the first two bits today. I hope you like where it's going so far!

-

Strange should not have tried the spell. Unquestionably he should not have tried the spell. In fairness, it had not done at all what he had expected.

It had seemed perfectly logical. The point of the spell seemed to say something about filling the caster with joy, and Strange had keenly felt the need of it. After all, he was trapped in a pillar of darkness with only his former master for company and, while he was finding Norrell's company significantly more tolerable these days, there were many things he missed about the outside world. Faerie seemed to be in perpetuate twilight, for one thing.

Besides which, the spell had said something about being touched. Strange, who had not embraced his wife in a year, keenly felt the need for human contact, and as he could hardly ask Norrell, magic seemed the most sensible solution.

Perhaps he ought to have looked more carefully. It was true that he had not entirely been able to read the description, which was written in a small crabbed hand and faded with age.

All the same, he did not feel he deserved this. Not at all.

His blood felt as though it were on fire, his body tingling in the extremities and all over heat. His skin felt too tight, his clothes itched, his body ached for touch. In short, Strange was in a most dreadful state, and had no-one to turn to except for Norrell.

It was humiliating, but he could not concentrate long enough to look for a counterspell. The handwriting was so very crabbed and so very faded, and the sensations he felt would not allow him to sit and read.

It was with this goal that he was now hurrying down to Norrell's library, which was connected to his own house by a long winding magical staircase he himself had conjured. At the moment, he was wishing he had made it shorter.

As he burst into the library Norrell turned to look up at him. He was sitting at his desk wearing his cap and house-coat and had his spectacles on. He looked the very picture of calm scholarly inquiry. Strange steeled himself, for this would entail a significant amount of embarrassment.

"Sir," he began.

"Are you quite all right, Mr Strange?" said Norrell, looking him up and down.

Strange sat down, and groaned. "I fear I am not, sir," he said. "I tried a spell that has gone most horribly wrong. It was meant to induce euphoria in the participant, er, but I am very much afraid that I may have - "

"You tried Penwell," said Norrell.

There was a moment's silence. Then Strange sighed. "I'm afraid so," he said.

Norrell looked at his feet. He was going red, which Strange thought was quite unfair; if anyone here had the right to blush, it was he.

"I believe I am familiar with the spell," said Norrell. "I spent nearly three days deciphering the book some years ago. I know its contents well."

"Are they all like that?" asked Strange, running a hand through his hair.

"Not all, but many. Penwell was unfortunately given to these fits of highly unsuitable research." Norrell began to warm to his topic. "In fact I find that in general he is very - "

"Sir," said Strange, "Please, I need you to help me. Is there a counterspell?"

"Counterspell?"

"For the one I have cast on myself."

"Oh!" Norrell eyed him, and grew redder. "There is none, I am afraid. This should be a lesson to you, Mr Strange, on the inadvisability of using unfamiliar magic without testing it first. Really, it is a most dangerous practice. I have told you many times that you ought not to even read an incantation aloud without being thoroughly sure of it."

Strange groaned. "And I regret my actions, sir, I assure you, but please tell me what can possibly be done to lift the enchantment. I am...hardly in a fit state for study just at the moment."

Norrell studied the carpet, avoiding even looking at Strange. "There is no counterspell," he repeated. "The only cure is to...get the spell out of the blood."

"I am sorry?"

"By - by experiencing - by committing indelicate acts," said Mr Norrell. He shifted from one foot to the other. "Until the poison, as it were, is lanced from the blood."

Strange laid his head on the table. Bloody hell, he thought. He rose, clutching his coat about him. "In that case, if you will excuse me, I shall endeavor to take care of myself."

Norrell was so very red as to look feverish. "I do not think it will work," he mumbled. "The spell intimated that the acts must be committed with another person. Er. By another's hand, as it were, and not your own."

There was a long silence, in which Strange swore increasingly desperately in his head and Mr Norrell stared at his pen for some time.

"I see," Strange said at last. He cleared his throat. "Well. In that case I suppose I have no other recourse but to beg you to help me, sir."

Norrell's head shot up and he stared at Strange. His lips parted as if he was going to speak, but he said nothing.

"I realize this is extremely inconvenient and indeed distasteful for you," Strange began. "And I would apologize most sincerely for forcing your hand, but I am afraid I cannot exactly go home to my wife now."

"Help you," said Norrell, looking at Strange with an expression Strange had seen before on his face. But never directed at a human; no, it was the expression he assumed when examining a new spell, as if trying to pry all its secrets from it with only his mind. Strange found, to his horror, that this expression was sending thrumming little tendrils of interest through him. It was so very intense an expression, and directed at him when he felt so helpless. He felt his arousal grow greater still, to his own discomfort. That it should be Norrell looking at him like this, and that it should have this effect on him - it must be the spell, mustn't it?

He did not like to think of the possibility that it was not.

"The research possibilities," said Norrell thoughtfully, "Would be immense. I have always wondered what the effect of Penwell's spells on a human subject would be and now you have very obligingly presented yourself." He nodded. "Yes. I will help you, sir."

Strange sighed in relief, his skin tingling in anticipation of being touched, and he looked up at Mr Norrell with eyes that felt full of heat. He had often used this expression on Arabella with some success, and felt that if he should do this, it should be done properly. But Norrell had turned away and begun scribbling notes. Strange frowned.

"Sir?" he began.

"I must record all initial impressions before we begin," said Norrell, pushing his spectacles further up on his nose. "Copious notes are the foundation of good research."

Strange groaned, frustrated. He strode over to the desk, bent himself over Norrell's chair, grabbed the edge of the desk on both sides of Norrell. He whispered low in his ear, "Sir, I beg of you."

Norrell had gone still, his pen still dripping ink, his eyes closed.

"I will not stop my note-taking, sir," he whispered, leaning slightly back towards Strange.

"I do not ask that. Only I cannot bear to sit here for ten minutes while you scribble on a sheet of paper. I burn, sir."

Norrell swallowed with a clicking sound and put his pen down. He breathed out, turned around to face Strange, and then shook his head as if to clear it.

"Please," said Strange, his fingers turning white as they gripped the side of the desk with the intensity of his desires. "Please, sir."

He reached out to Norrell. Now that Norrell had turned in his chair, their faces were very close indeed. The difference in size between them was such that Strange could stoop over him very well when he was seated.

For a moment there was nothing, and then Norrell leaned in and kissed Strange. Strange groaned at the relief of it. Quite aside from the effects of the spell, it had been so long since anyone had done this to him. No-one had reached out a hand to touch him for a full year. It felt like the first time, like he had been born into a new skin and was only now relearning each sensation.

From your OP

[(Anonymous)]

Oh my! This is wonderful, Anon! I love this pairing, and you've presented a very interesting take on the situation so far. Both of them ring so true, and the situation is both very funny and very hot. Can't wait to read the second part now!