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rainbowfic2021-04-20 08:59 pm
thisbluespirit) wrote in rainbowfic2021-04-20 08:59 pm
Snow White #3 [Divide & Rule]
Name: Thorns and Roses
Story: Divide & Rule/Heroes of the Revolution
Colors: Snow White #3 (into the woods)
Supplies and Styles: Eraser
Word Count: 881
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Notes: Magic AU, 1958; Edward Iveson, Julia Graves.
Summary: Stormclouds are gathering.
***
Edward read through the latest committee report, the lines on his face deepening until finally, he stopped. “The bastard,” he said.
“Who?” asked Julia from behind him, in the middle of stretching over to place a cup of coffee at his elbow. “Anyone I know?”
Edward turned, leaning back in his chair as he reached gratefully for the coffee. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. But who are you cursing?”
“Jemmings. Hallam. Damn them both.”
“Amen to that,” said Julia. “Any reason in particular or just in general?”
Edward gave a reluctant grin. “Oh, the usual. Jemmings up to his tricks – making outrageous recommendations here, this time. Far too extreme to come to anything as matters stand.”
“Then what are you getting upset about?” Julia pulled out the nearest chair, cleared it of papers, and perched sideways on it.
Edward took a sip of his coffee. “Forcible removal of powers for any magician over a certain level of ability and a few other similarly abhorrent requests.”
“Then damn them, yes,” said Julia. “Amen again. But it isn’t good that they dare to include it, I suppose?”
Edward pressed his fingers to his temple. “No. They ask for the impossible and perhaps they’ll get something in concession that they might not had otherwise. Certainly they’ll be after something. Hallam is a firebrand, but Jemmings knows exactly what he’s doing.” Jemmings was Intelligence, and had all the relevant experience of lies and blackmail and coercion that went with it, on top of being, in Edward’s opinion, a devious, self-serving bastard.
“I see,” Julia said, more quietly.
There had been so many questions about the role and usage of magic and magicians since the war. What riled Edward was the way that people like Hallam would tolerate theoretical magicians like him – to a degree – and accept the usage of magic in weaponry and defence and yet turn on the very people who were least to blame, who had the least choice in becoming magic users. People like Julia, who were born with that power inside them.
“He can’t succeed,” said Edward. “No matter how people like to try, for justice, for faith, for their own safety, you can’t truly suppress all magic like that. The trouble is that when people try, they can do immense damage before they’re stopped. People will die.”
Julia reached out for his hand, and he took it. “Darling,” she said. “How would someone like Mr Hallam ever get the chance?”
“It happens,” said Edward. “We all know that by now.”
“True, but that doesn’t mean Mr Hallam will happen. Especially not with you around to put a spoke in his wheel. What are you planning?”
Edward released her hand. “I shall return this report with severe crossings out and strongly worded annotations in red pencil in the margins. Then hope to God someone takes notice.”
“My hero,” said Julia, and when he glanced across, he saw the laughter in her eyes. She rose from the chair and gazed past him, out the window. “Or maybe I could deal with them before they go any further?”
Edward put down his coffee too hard, spilling it over his fingers and into the saucer. He rose and strode sharply over to join her. “Good God, Julia. No. I know you’re joking, but absolutely not – not in this atmosphere. If a magician of your calibre does anything of that kind, they’ll have a field day.”
Julia blinked. “Darling, honestly, I wasn’t serious.”
“Which reminds me,” he said, following his own trail of thought rather than heeding her reply. “I need you to promise me something.”
Julia turned around, so that her back was against the window. She leaned against the sill. “Well, that sounds ominous. What?”
“Promise me you won’t let your powers get out of control again. No matter what happens – especially to me. You are perfectly capable of stopping yourself, and you must.”
Colour rose in her cheeks, and she lifted her chin as she angled her head towards him, outlined in the light from the window. “Yes, I can, and I will. I do know that.” She shifted away from him, into the shadows. “And don’t talk like that. You should promise me you’ll be more careful. Perhaps you should write less stringent notes in margins!”
“Julia,” he said. He took both her hands in his. “I’ve no intention of getting into trouble – no wish to do so. But things are getting rather uncomfortable in general. Things have changed. If anything were to happen to me, you couldn’t rush in the way you did a year or two ago. The consequences could be unthinkable.”
She pulled out of his grasp. “That’s all very well to say, but that’s the one thing I can’t quite be sensible about.” Julia shrugged. “There are still sometimes thorns and roses upstairs. You know that. If I feel you are in danger –”
“You’ll think of Emily if nothing else and keep well clear.”
“I promise to try,” she said. “If you promise not to make my interference necessary. Will you?”
I’m not important, he wanted to say, but he was to her; he could hardly ignore that, strange miracle that it was. He gave a small smile and a nod. “I shall try, yes. I promise.”
***
Story: Divide & Rule/Heroes of the Revolution
Colors: Snow White #3 (into the woods)
Supplies and Styles: Eraser
Word Count: 881
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Notes: Magic AU, 1958; Edward Iveson, Julia Graves.
Summary: Stormclouds are gathering.
***
Edward read through the latest committee report, the lines on his face deepening until finally, he stopped. “The bastard,” he said.
“Who?” asked Julia from behind him, in the middle of stretching over to place a cup of coffee at his elbow. “Anyone I know?”
Edward turned, leaning back in his chair as he reached gratefully for the coffee. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. But who are you cursing?”
“Jemmings. Hallam. Damn them both.”
“Amen to that,” said Julia. “Any reason in particular or just in general?”
Edward gave a reluctant grin. “Oh, the usual. Jemmings up to his tricks – making outrageous recommendations here, this time. Far too extreme to come to anything as matters stand.”
“Then what are you getting upset about?” Julia pulled out the nearest chair, cleared it of papers, and perched sideways on it.
Edward took a sip of his coffee. “Forcible removal of powers for any magician over a certain level of ability and a few other similarly abhorrent requests.”
“Then damn them, yes,” said Julia. “Amen again. But it isn’t good that they dare to include it, I suppose?”
Edward pressed his fingers to his temple. “No. They ask for the impossible and perhaps they’ll get something in concession that they might not had otherwise. Certainly they’ll be after something. Hallam is a firebrand, but Jemmings knows exactly what he’s doing.” Jemmings was Intelligence, and had all the relevant experience of lies and blackmail and coercion that went with it, on top of being, in Edward’s opinion, a devious, self-serving bastard.
“I see,” Julia said, more quietly.
There had been so many questions about the role and usage of magic and magicians since the war. What riled Edward was the way that people like Hallam would tolerate theoretical magicians like him – to a degree – and accept the usage of magic in weaponry and defence and yet turn on the very people who were least to blame, who had the least choice in becoming magic users. People like Julia, who were born with that power inside them.
“He can’t succeed,” said Edward. “No matter how people like to try, for justice, for faith, for their own safety, you can’t truly suppress all magic like that. The trouble is that when people try, they can do immense damage before they’re stopped. People will die.”
Julia reached out for his hand, and he took it. “Darling,” she said. “How would someone like Mr Hallam ever get the chance?”
“It happens,” said Edward. “We all know that by now.”
“True, but that doesn’t mean Mr Hallam will happen. Especially not with you around to put a spoke in his wheel. What are you planning?”
Edward released her hand. “I shall return this report with severe crossings out and strongly worded annotations in red pencil in the margins. Then hope to God someone takes notice.”
“My hero,” said Julia, and when he glanced across, he saw the laughter in her eyes. She rose from the chair and gazed past him, out the window. “Or maybe I could deal with them before they go any further?”
Edward put down his coffee too hard, spilling it over his fingers and into the saucer. He rose and strode sharply over to join her. “Good God, Julia. No. I know you’re joking, but absolutely not – not in this atmosphere. If a magician of your calibre does anything of that kind, they’ll have a field day.”
Julia blinked. “Darling, honestly, I wasn’t serious.”
“Which reminds me,” he said, following his own trail of thought rather than heeding her reply. “I need you to promise me something.”
Julia turned around, so that her back was against the window. She leaned against the sill. “Well, that sounds ominous. What?”
“Promise me you won’t let your powers get out of control again. No matter what happens – especially to me. You are perfectly capable of stopping yourself, and you must.”
Colour rose in her cheeks, and she lifted her chin as she angled her head towards him, outlined in the light from the window. “Yes, I can, and I will. I do know that.” She shifted away from him, into the shadows. “And don’t talk like that. You should promise me you’ll be more careful. Perhaps you should write less stringent notes in margins!”
“Julia,” he said. He took both her hands in his. “I’ve no intention of getting into trouble – no wish to do so. But things are getting rather uncomfortable in general. Things have changed. If anything were to happen to me, you couldn’t rush in the way you did a year or two ago. The consequences could be unthinkable.”
She pulled out of his grasp. “That’s all very well to say, but that’s the one thing I can’t quite be sensible about.” Julia shrugged. “There are still sometimes thorns and roses upstairs. You know that. If I feel you are in danger –”
“You’ll think of Emily if nothing else and keep well clear.”
“I promise to try,” she said. “If you promise not to make my interference necessary. Will you?”
I’m not important, he wanted to say, but he was to her; he could hardly ignore that, strange miracle that it was. He gave a small smile and a nod. “I shall try, yes. I promise.”
***
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