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rainbowfic2021-03-28 08:53 pm
thisbluespirit) wrote in rainbowfic2021-03-28 08:53 pm
Snow White #10, Ecru #15, Vienna Orange #6 [Divide & Rule]
Name: Serendipity
Story: Divide & Rule/Heroes of the Revolution
Colors: Snow White #10 (magic beans); Ecru #15 (lie); Vienna Orange #6 (Faith is both the prison and the open hand)
Supplies and Styles: Paint by numbers (sometimes, the universe really does balance itself out in the weirdest ways) + Eraser
Word Count: 1588
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mentions of illness.
Notes: Magic AU; 1962. Julia Graves, Emily Iveson, Edward Iveson, Amyas Harding.
Summary: Edward has an accident that might turn out to be a lucky one.
***
Julia knew she should never have left for the West Country ahead of Edward. Hadn’t this catalogue of disasters been started in the first place because he was in danger? But, no, he insisted on working out his notice at the Department for Magical Affairs, as if everything was normal. It was all very well for him to assure her that now she was reduced to this state, no one would bother him again. He wasn’t the one who had to potter about in a quaint little cottage and worry all the time.
She leant back against blue and yellow flower-patterned wallpaper and closed her eyes. There was no danger of her bringing such images to life any more. She breathed in and out and reminded herself that she would hear bad news swiftly. Even if he was now, finally, officially, late, she had no real reason to fear. She didn’t feel in her heart as if he was dead, and she felt certain she would. But if there was danger, she had no powers left to allow her to rush to his aid and do something reckless. The reverse, in fact, and how she hated it.
“Are you all right?” asked Emily, coming down the stairs.
Julia opened her eyes and straightened up. “Yes, of course, darling. Only a little tired again.”
“Wasn’t Father supposed to be home yesterday?”
Julia crossed over to catch hold of Emily on the bottom step, surveying her. She straightened her daughter’s collar and nodded. “You’ll do.”
“Mother?”
Julia kissed Emily’s cheek and gave her hand a brief squeeze. “Yes, he was. I don’t know what’s delayed him, but you can be sure I’ll have words with him for not letting us know sooner.”
The telephone rang beside her and she jumped. Then she turned to pick up the receiver, throwing Emily a quick smile. “Speak of the devil,” she said. “Hello?”
It wasn’t Edward. “I’m very sorry about this,” said Mr Harding on the other end, his voice crackly and indistinct, “but I’m afraid Iveson won’t be joining you just yet.”
Julia’s tightened her grip on the receiver, now cold and slippery in her grasp. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes and no,” said Harding. “Oh, dear. The point is, my dear, he is in all probability quite as well as any of us, but he won’t be able to leave us until, well, whenever he is.”
He wasn’t dead. Tension ebbed out of her and she shifted her grip on the telephone more comfortably. “You’d better explain. Whatever has he done now?”
“Not anything precisely,” Harding told her, as if that made it better. “One of the odder hazards of our profession. It does happen. He didn’t come back from his assignment the day before yesterday. When we realised, we went looking and, well, that’s the thing. Have you heard of Neptin pods?”
Julia had, at some point. Probably Edward had mentioned them when he’d been talking about magical things, back in the beginning. Who could have remembered all of that? Well, aside from Edward, of course. “Vaguely,” she said, pulling on the cord so she could twist around to frown at Emily, who was trying to ask questions.
“They’re generally harmless,” said Mr Harding. “Odd things, you know. Quite fascinating. All sorts of theories about them. The effects are inexplicable in some ways –”
Julia caught her breath. “Mr Harding, you said Edward was well. It’s not sounding that way.”
“All experience suggests that he should wake up in a few hours, or days, or weeks, and feel quite well, but obviously it’s disconcerting while it lasts. We’re looking after him here, so no need to worry about anyone taking advantage of the situation. General departmental policy to keep victims under observation, anyway. Adds to our information.”
Julia leant in towards the phone instinctively. “He’s – asleep?”
“He is neither awake nor unconscious nor asleep. Hence the departmental policy, you see. The things are rather fascinating – in the abstract, of course.”
“He is all right, really, isn’t he? Because it doesn’t sound that way to me.”
“He is, Mrs Iveson, and I promise you I’ll let you know the moment anything changes. The effects don’t usually last too long, but it’s unpredictable business.”
“What has happened?” Emily asked, as soon as Julia put the receiver back in its cradle. She was sitting on the bottom of the stairs, arms tight around her knees as she watched her mother. “Father isn’t hurt, isn’t he?”
Julia sat beside her. “Mr Harding promises me that he’s fine, and he should know. We’ll just have to be patient. It seems he’s had a silly accident. We’ll have to try not to tease him too much when he does come home.”
Emily’s frown eased away at the touch of humour, as Julia had hoped, but she nevertheless hugged Julia’s arm, and surprised her by saying, “You mustn’t worry, Mother. I’ll look after you till Father comes back.”
“Goodness,” said Julia, “will you?” She hugged Emily and kissed her head, which Emily condescended to on this occasion with no more objection than screwing up her face at unwanted soppiness. Just like Edward and Nancy and Mrs Taylor, too. Julia laughed, but her mind was already turning back to thoughts of Edward in London, lying there unconscious, by the sounds of it. How could that possibly be all right?
Julia told herself that the unexpected extra time had its uses. It allowed her to have the cottage properly in order, even at her new, slower pace. She could prepare Emily for going back to school. She and Edward hadn’t wanted to move her from her old school in her last year, so she was going to stay with Nancy and Isobel for most of the term. It wasn’t ideal, but at least right now it would keep her out of the way if Julia’s condition worsened. Edward thought it would. Julia’s mouth twisted, wanting to deny it – she would be unlike everyone else deprived of their powers, she would get well – but Edward was usually right about that kind of thing.
None of that stopped her waiting for the telephone to ring or someone to knock at the door at any moment with news. She sighed as she unpicked the hem of Emily’s skirt – she’d outgrown it again – and then closed her eyes. Everything was bad enough before Edward had gone and done this. What if he didn’t come back before she took a turn for a worse?
“Oh, drat,” she said, realising she’d let tears fall on the pleated brown fabric of the skirt and hunted around for her hanky.
“Julia.”
She started and stabbed the needle into her leg. “Edward!” she said. And then: “Ouch.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said, removing his hat. He gave a rueful smile. “I feel such a fool, falling into that old trap. I came as soon as I could.”
Julia swallowed and beamed up at him. She pushed the needle into the pin cushion and pushed the skirt aside to rise and catch hold of his coat, studying him closely. He looked no different to usual. Her fingers trembled against his lapels. “Sleeping all this time,” she said, her voice unsteady but light. “How could you?”
“Not sleeping precisely,” Edward said. “It’s a strange business. They say you’re elsewhere, but I don’t remember a thing.”
Julia tightened her grip and tugged at his coat. He was here; he was all right. “Splitting hairs, darling. You’ve been lying about for well over a week. You lazy object!”
He kissed her head. “I am sorry. Here, let me get this coat off.” As she helped him out of it, he added, “How are you? You have been careful?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I keep telling you. Nothing to worry about, despite all your dismal prophecies.”
He cast the coat over the back of the other arm chair and then turned back to frown. “Julia, you have got to take this seriously,” he said, and it was as if he’d never been away. Straight back to the same old argument.
Julia hugged him. She did believe him, of course, but she was still superstitious, and she felt it was better not said aloud – better not to make it real. Fate might pass them over if they ignored it hard enough.
“And I wasn’t splitting hairs,” he said, ushering her back to the armchair, his hand resting lightly at her waist. “There are a lot of different theories about it.”
“Yes, so Mr Harding said. He sounded positively excited at having you fall victim just so he could observe you.”
Edward gave an unwilling laugh and caught hold of her hand before she could return to her sewing. “Didn’t do him much good, I’m afraid. Julia.”
“What?”
He played with her fingers absently, brow furrowed. “It might have given me an idea, though. I’m not sure yet.”
“About me?”
Edward nodded, the laughter gone from his face. “I don’t know. I’ll have to talk to Harding. I’m probably grasping at straws.”
Julia’s heart gave a flutter of hope. Edward was usually right about these things.
“It’s only a wild theory,” he said hastily, catching her look. “Don’t get excited. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Oh, a wild theory,” said Julia. “Exactly my sort of thing, then.” She caught sight of the wry expression on his face and moved forward to kiss him before he could tell her again that she wasn’t taking this seriously enough.
***
Story: Divide & Rule/Heroes of the Revolution
Colors: Snow White #10 (magic beans); Ecru #15 (lie); Vienna Orange #6 (Faith is both the prison and the open hand)
Supplies and Styles: Paint by numbers (sometimes, the universe really does balance itself out in the weirdest ways) + Eraser
Word Count: 1588
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mentions of illness.
Notes: Magic AU; 1962. Julia Graves, Emily Iveson, Edward Iveson, Amyas Harding.
Summary: Edward has an accident that might turn out to be a lucky one.
***
Julia knew she should never have left for the West Country ahead of Edward. Hadn’t this catalogue of disasters been started in the first place because he was in danger? But, no, he insisted on working out his notice at the Department for Magical Affairs, as if everything was normal. It was all very well for him to assure her that now she was reduced to this state, no one would bother him again. He wasn’t the one who had to potter about in a quaint little cottage and worry all the time.
She leant back against blue and yellow flower-patterned wallpaper and closed her eyes. There was no danger of her bringing such images to life any more. She breathed in and out and reminded herself that she would hear bad news swiftly. Even if he was now, finally, officially, late, she had no real reason to fear. She didn’t feel in her heart as if he was dead, and she felt certain she would. But if there was danger, she had no powers left to allow her to rush to his aid and do something reckless. The reverse, in fact, and how she hated it.
“Are you all right?” asked Emily, coming down the stairs.
Julia opened her eyes and straightened up. “Yes, of course, darling. Only a little tired again.”
“Wasn’t Father supposed to be home yesterday?”
Julia crossed over to catch hold of Emily on the bottom step, surveying her. She straightened her daughter’s collar and nodded. “You’ll do.”
“Mother?”
Julia kissed Emily’s cheek and gave her hand a brief squeeze. “Yes, he was. I don’t know what’s delayed him, but you can be sure I’ll have words with him for not letting us know sooner.”
The telephone rang beside her and she jumped. Then she turned to pick up the receiver, throwing Emily a quick smile. “Speak of the devil,” she said. “Hello?”
It wasn’t Edward. “I’m very sorry about this,” said Mr Harding on the other end, his voice crackly and indistinct, “but I’m afraid Iveson won’t be joining you just yet.”
Julia’s tightened her grip on the receiver, now cold and slippery in her grasp. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes and no,” said Harding. “Oh, dear. The point is, my dear, he is in all probability quite as well as any of us, but he won’t be able to leave us until, well, whenever he is.”
He wasn’t dead. Tension ebbed out of her and she shifted her grip on the telephone more comfortably. “You’d better explain. Whatever has he done now?”
“Not anything precisely,” Harding told her, as if that made it better. “One of the odder hazards of our profession. It does happen. He didn’t come back from his assignment the day before yesterday. When we realised, we went looking and, well, that’s the thing. Have you heard of Neptin pods?”
Julia had, at some point. Probably Edward had mentioned them when he’d been talking about magical things, back in the beginning. Who could have remembered all of that? Well, aside from Edward, of course. “Vaguely,” she said, pulling on the cord so she could twist around to frown at Emily, who was trying to ask questions.
“They’re generally harmless,” said Mr Harding. “Odd things, you know. Quite fascinating. All sorts of theories about them. The effects are inexplicable in some ways –”
Julia caught her breath. “Mr Harding, you said Edward was well. It’s not sounding that way.”
“All experience suggests that he should wake up in a few hours, or days, or weeks, and feel quite well, but obviously it’s disconcerting while it lasts. We’re looking after him here, so no need to worry about anyone taking advantage of the situation. General departmental policy to keep victims under observation, anyway. Adds to our information.”
Julia leant in towards the phone instinctively. “He’s – asleep?”
“He is neither awake nor unconscious nor asleep. Hence the departmental policy, you see. The things are rather fascinating – in the abstract, of course.”
“He is all right, really, isn’t he? Because it doesn’t sound that way to me.”
“He is, Mrs Iveson, and I promise you I’ll let you know the moment anything changes. The effects don’t usually last too long, but it’s unpredictable business.”
“What has happened?” Emily asked, as soon as Julia put the receiver back in its cradle. She was sitting on the bottom of the stairs, arms tight around her knees as she watched her mother. “Father isn’t hurt, isn’t he?”
Julia sat beside her. “Mr Harding promises me that he’s fine, and he should know. We’ll just have to be patient. It seems he’s had a silly accident. We’ll have to try not to tease him too much when he does come home.”
Emily’s frown eased away at the touch of humour, as Julia had hoped, but she nevertheless hugged Julia’s arm, and surprised her by saying, “You mustn’t worry, Mother. I’ll look after you till Father comes back.”
“Goodness,” said Julia, “will you?” She hugged Emily and kissed her head, which Emily condescended to on this occasion with no more objection than screwing up her face at unwanted soppiness. Just like Edward and Nancy and Mrs Taylor, too. Julia laughed, but her mind was already turning back to thoughts of Edward in London, lying there unconscious, by the sounds of it. How could that possibly be all right?
Julia told herself that the unexpected extra time had its uses. It allowed her to have the cottage properly in order, even at her new, slower pace. She could prepare Emily for going back to school. She and Edward hadn’t wanted to move her from her old school in her last year, so she was going to stay with Nancy and Isobel for most of the term. It wasn’t ideal, but at least right now it would keep her out of the way if Julia’s condition worsened. Edward thought it would. Julia’s mouth twisted, wanting to deny it – she would be unlike everyone else deprived of their powers, she would get well – but Edward was usually right about that kind of thing.
None of that stopped her waiting for the telephone to ring or someone to knock at the door at any moment with news. She sighed as she unpicked the hem of Emily’s skirt – she’d outgrown it again – and then closed her eyes. Everything was bad enough before Edward had gone and done this. What if he didn’t come back before she took a turn for a worse?
“Oh, drat,” she said, realising she’d let tears fall on the pleated brown fabric of the skirt and hunted around for her hanky.
“Julia.”
She started and stabbed the needle into her leg. “Edward!” she said. And then: “Ouch.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said, removing his hat. He gave a rueful smile. “I feel such a fool, falling into that old trap. I came as soon as I could.”
Julia swallowed and beamed up at him. She pushed the needle into the pin cushion and pushed the skirt aside to rise and catch hold of his coat, studying him closely. He looked no different to usual. Her fingers trembled against his lapels. “Sleeping all this time,” she said, her voice unsteady but light. “How could you?”
“Not sleeping precisely,” Edward said. “It’s a strange business. They say you’re elsewhere, but I don’t remember a thing.”
Julia tightened her grip and tugged at his coat. He was here; he was all right. “Splitting hairs, darling. You’ve been lying about for well over a week. You lazy object!”
He kissed her head. “I am sorry. Here, let me get this coat off.” As she helped him out of it, he added, “How are you? You have been careful?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I keep telling you. Nothing to worry about, despite all your dismal prophecies.”
He cast the coat over the back of the other arm chair and then turned back to frown. “Julia, you have got to take this seriously,” he said, and it was as if he’d never been away. Straight back to the same old argument.
Julia hugged him. She did believe him, of course, but she was still superstitious, and she felt it was better not said aloud – better not to make it real. Fate might pass them over if they ignored it hard enough.
“And I wasn’t splitting hairs,” he said, ushering her back to the armchair, his hand resting lightly at her waist. “There are a lot of different theories about it.”
“Yes, so Mr Harding said. He sounded positively excited at having you fall victim just so he could observe you.”
Edward gave an unwilling laugh and caught hold of her hand before she could return to her sewing. “Didn’t do him much good, I’m afraid. Julia.”
“What?”
He played with her fingers absently, brow furrowed. “It might have given me an idea, though. I’m not sure yet.”
“About me?”
Edward nodded, the laughter gone from his face. “I don’t know. I’ll have to talk to Harding. I’m probably grasping at straws.”
Julia’s heart gave a flutter of hope. Edward was usually right about these things.
“It’s only a wild theory,” he said hastily, catching her look. “Don’t get excited. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Oh, a wild theory,” said Julia. “Exactly my sort of thing, then.” She caught sight of the wry expression on his face and moved forward to kiss him before he could tell her again that she wasn’t taking this seriously enough.
***
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Also I love this a lot and cannot wait to see what happens.
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