☆ Round One!

[jsmn_kink]

Welcome to the first round of the Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell Kink Meme at jsmn_kinkmeme!

Below are some basic guidelines to get started. Please make sure you also check out our complete Rules & Guidelines to minimise any confusion.

Guidelines:
■ Anonymously comment with your request – a character/pairing/nthsome, and a kink or prompt.
■ Only one prompt per post.
■ Fillers please link your fills in the Fills Post!
■ Have fun! :)

Keep in mind:
■ Any kinks welcomed!
■ The fill/request does not need to be sexual or porny.
■ Multiple fills are allowed.
■ Fills can be any sort of creative work: fic, art, song, photomanip, etc.
■ Beware of spoilers! Prompters and requesters are encouraged to warn for spoilers, but this rule is not enforced.
■ Warning for non-con, dub-con, abuse, slurs/language, and other potentially disturbing subjects is encouraged but be aware we do not enforce this.

Links:
☆ Current Prompt Post
☆ Mod Post
☆ Fills Post
☆ Discussion Post
☆ Misfire deletion requests

Comments

FILL: 'Through Fire and Water' - 3/4

[(Anonymous)]

Oops - I got too wordy, had to add a fourth part!

"Mr. Norrell!"

Norrell smiled. He stood in the very midst of the rain without getting the least wet, and he looked -- well, what had Childermass expected? In some back space of his mind had he thought that the Pillar of Darkness, the sojourn in another world, would alter Norrell in some inexplicable way? That he would take on physical characteristics that mirrored the wildness of Faery or, at the very least, some fashionable fairy clothes? But no -- he looked no different than he had the last time Childermass had seen him: not ill, not wasted by stress or starvation, and certainly no more in vogue. The sameness of him brought a strange kind of warmth to pool beneath Childermass's breastbone.

"Hello Childermass," Norrell said. "Are you well?"

"Me, sir? Wh -- Yes, yes I’m very well -- sir, how is it you've come here? Where is Mr. Strange? Are you --" Childermass stopped, an arm's length from the sheet of rain, and he stretched out his hand towards Norrell. But all he felt was water: cold, real but perfectly silent, drumming against his skin. "You are not really here, then?” he asked softly. It was not really a question.

Norrell shook his head. "It is an illusion. Mr. Strange and I use rain very like a mirror. We concentrate upon where we wish to go and who we wish to speak with, and then we use the basin of water to see the person we search for and the rain to make ourselves seen and heard. It is a combination of spells we found in Doncaster and Sutton-Grove and Pevensey, which at first I thought could not be reconciled..."

"Forgive me, sir," Childermass interrupted, too eager for answers to wait out a discourse on magical theory. "Where are you, you and Mr. Strange? I saw the Darkness take you. I saw it swallow up the Abbey and disappear."

"We do not know. Outside of your world, that is certain. In Faery, and between Faery and other lands which have no names. We stay within the confines of the Abbey, and my Hanover-square residence, and Mr. Strange's estate at Ashfair, though from time to time we venture out. Always together, never alone. Oh Childermass!" Norrell cried, a species of delight crossing his face that Childermass had only ever witnessed once, when a first edition of Pale had been purchased right out from beneath the eager, grasping hands of a rival collector from Surrey. "The things I have seen, Childermass! You would scarcely believe it! In all the books of magic I have ever read there is not a tenth of it, not a hint, not a crumb of the great depth and expanse of magic! It is far more complex and wonderful than I ever suspected."

"But are you well, sir? Is Mr. Strange well? How do you eat?"

"We are both well, Childermass. As for food -- I cannot pretend to understand it, it must be some part of the enchantment, but whenever we deplete something - say our store of eggs, of which Mr. Strange is very fond - our supply regenerates immediately! It is the same for wood and coals and candles, all the necessities. We lack for nothing!" Norrell smiled brightly as he said this, but as soon as the words had left his lips the smile faded and he dropped his gaze. "That is to say, almost everything."

"I am relieved to know that you and Mr. Strange remain together," Childermass said. "It is a comfort to everyone left behind to know that you have one another to rely upon."

"Oh! Indeed. But, Childermass --" Norrell paused, wetting his lips with his tongue, his small blue eyes darting this way and that before finally focusing again on Childermass's face. "There are -- there are several things I wish to -- to say to you."

"Do you have a request to make of me, sir?" Childermass asked.

"Well, I -- well, in fact, Mr. Strange has a request. Mr. Strange asked if it might be possible for you to look after Mrs. Strange for him? We -- I mean, Mr. Strange, with my assistance, was able to contact her not two days ago. She is in Padua. I know that it would mean a great deal to Mr. Strange if you could -- well, if you could see that she is provided for when she returns to England. To make sure that she is safe."

"You may tell Mr. Strange that I give him my solemn vow to do anything I can to aid Mrs. Strange," Childermass said. "He may rely upon me."

"Thank you, Childermass. I know that he will be grateful to hear it."

Norrell hesitated then and Childermass asked: "And for yourself, sir? What may I do?"

"Do?" Norrell swallowed visibly. Childermass noticed that he was wringing his hands, as he had often done in times of great trepidation. "No, Childermass. I can claim you as my servant no longer."

Startled, Childermass gave an involuntary shudder. "Sir, about that --"

"No, no. I believe I know what you are going to say, Childermass, but -- I release you from your service to me. There is very little that you can do for me here, after all --"

"But sir, that is not true. I have the King's book, Mr. Norrell!"

Norrell stared at him through the sheet of rain, his eyes very wide. "You have what?"

"The book of the Raven King, sir. It was right under our noses, so to speak, all along. Written on the skin of the street magician, Vinculus. You remember what I discovered about his father, having eaten the book in a drinking competition? Well, his son bears the text still."

"How extraordinary!" Norrell said softly.

"It is my belief, sir, that the book contains knowledge that will allow us to reverse the spell that holds you and Mr. Strange captive. Unfortunately, the book is written in the King's Letters and, as you know, that knowledge is obscure. But not lost completely, I think. I have already set the country's magicians the task of deciphering it, and though it may take some time, sir, I believe we will succeed --"

"But of course you will!" Norrell cried. Childermass fell silent, somewhat taken aback. He had expected Norrell to be frustrated, disappointed to learn that the Raven King's Book had been discovered but was inaccessible to him; angered, even, by the thought that new magicians - the very class of people he had feared and despised for much of his life - were even now clustered around transcriptions of the letters on Vinculus's body, tracing every line and alien letter to unlock its hidden meaning. But Norrell seemed instead delighted by the news and - what was even odder - almost unimpressed.

"Of course you will succeed!" Norrell continued, beaming. "You are, without doubt, the cleverest man I have ever known. If anyone can decipher the book, it is you."

Childermass could not help the smile that lifted up the corners of his mouth, though it was a somewhat confused, befuddled expression. "Mr. Norrell, I -- surely you consider Mr. Strange the cleverest man of your acquaintance?"

"No indeed! And Mr. Strange would agree with me, Childermass. No, Mr. Strange and I -- we are magicians. You are a magician, too, of course, but you are also a man of the world, a man of business. Mr. Strange and I have only ever been magicians. We are quite at a loss with anything that is not related to magic. You know that is true."

Childermass did not answer. He was quite unused to receiving compliments from Norrell and - man of the world or not - he was not quite sure how to respond to them.

"No, Childermass," Norrell continued, his bright smile fading again, replaced by a rapid blinking of his eyes and a deep furrow of his brow. "I -- I have nothing to request of you, except -- except your forgiveness."