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Johnathan Strange: To acquire a library. Johnathan Strange & Mr Norrell


Naraya

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Hello. 

It has been a while since I lasted posted. 

I have a slight Johnathan Strange & Mr Norrell obsession at the moment.  Only one part now but may add more depending on response. 

I guess this may contain some spoilers as such, maybe, possibly.

======================

To acquire a library

 

'Oh-ho! YES!' 

This one shout had been the first real sound in over a grey and rainy hour.  Whiling away the dismal autumn hours, Jonathan, with Arabella for company, had taken to his library.  Perched on the very edge of his favourite faded green velvet chair, the magician had gazed down into the shimmery depths of his large silver divining bowl.  

Until this point the silence had only been momentarily broken by the occasional sigh or the splash of an overenthusiastic line being scribed across the water's surface.  Suddenly he had sprung to his feet, upending the chair as he bellowed in delight.

Arabella look up from her needlework.  'Jonathan?  Must you shout so? You have quite terrified the dog!'

'Of course, I am sorry my darling.' he returned automatically, whilst casting a frown at the apparently 'terrified' lurcher snoring contentedly by the fire.  

'You see, something quite fortuitous has been sent to me.  Something extraordinarily fortuitous in fact!  My dear, dispose of this water thoroughly.  Pour it for the plant, that should suffice to close down the lines–'

'Absolutely not.  Johnathan Strange, you of all people should know that to over water an Aspidistra is to present it with a death sentence.'

 

'Arabella, dear I hardly consider botany as one of my stronger suites.  Please dispose of the water, as quickly as you can. If you would. Thank you.' he extended his thanks with a little flourishing bow. 'And now I must make haste.  There isn't a moment to lose!'

'Dare I even enquire as to where it is you are hastening to?' Her tone implied the long suffering of a wife dedicated to her lunatic English magician husband and his sudden urgent histrionics.  

'Why the library at Walmsley Castle of course!  It holds quite an astonishingly complete collection of the Morgana Fae.  The keeper of the strong hold has passed and with only the collection on site requiring tending.  It is to be auctioned. This very day!'

'Oh not again.'

'Please Bella, show a little more willing.  I doubt Norrell is in the know about this.  I have literally only just this moment caught the thread since the whisperings are so slight.'

'That would be something of an advantage I suppose but where abouts is this Walmsley Castle?'

'Just down the coast from Dover'

'Dover? You wouldn't possibly make it in time– Oh no! Not again. No!'

She rounded on him, knowing instantly what was going through his mind.  'You promised me.  We agreed no more Kings Road.  It's just too dangerous Jonathan. You agreed last time was cutting it too fine.  You promised me!' 

'This route is plain sailing, Bell, trust me! Not so much as a sniff at a crossroads or staircase until I reach Rochester.  It really is the simplest of routes. What could possibly go wrong?' 

A few minutes later he confidently strolled through an ornate black and silver mirror which leaned heavily against the wall. 

 

—-----------------------------------------

 

The auction house was packed until it was standing room only.  Fortunately Jonathan had managed to acquire a seat in the middle of the second row.  As more and more people arrived Jonathan began to notice faces he recognised entering the room, and one face in particular, as it strolled purposefully towards him - Childermass….

 

—--------------------------------------------

 

Arabella sat quietly reading before the fire, a book of poetry in her lap.  Amongst the crackles and pops of the damp logs on the fire she lifted her head to the sound of gentle tappings sounding, peculiarly, as though they are footsteps, footsteps coming through the mirror.  

 

Sighing, she raised from the chair, the book falling from her lap as she slowly walked towards the mirror. A figure walked directly towards her, his stride confident, tails of a long black coat flowing behind him.   She watched in stunned silence as the figure, before quite reaching the frame of the mirror in which he was enclosed, swirled around away from her with a somewhat dramatic flourish.  The mirror momentarily darkened, clouded as though enshrouded in a sudden onset of cloud before quickly clearing again.  The figure stepped down into the room.  

 

The effect of his sudden appearance unfortunately seemed to lose a little of its dramatic flare as the tall, handsome magician, hands on knees to catch his breath, suddenly swung away, red and black tailcoat swirling around him, as he caught a rip-roaring sneeze in the cruck of his elbow.  Arabella took a step back in astonishment. 

 

'Goodness.  Bless you, Jonathan.  Are you quite alright?'   

 

He didn't respond, instead he held his face in his right coat sleeve in a gesture more resembling that of a vampire than that of a celebrated English magician.  He held up his left hand indicating she was to bare with him.   A moment later he turned to his wife, nose and mouth buried in a sodden handkerchief.

 

'Johnathan, dearest, what in the world has happened? You have only been gone two hours!'

 

'That codfouded Dorrell is what has happed' the words, chock full of congestion, seem to scrape and rasp from a clearly sore throat.  

 

She waited a beat before bustling into wifely action, not even needing further explanation.  'Come sit by the fire, I will arrange for some hot tea.'  She instructed, leading an extremely miserable looking Strange to the armchair by the hearth.  

 

'He had staged the whole thig.  I thought it was odd whed Childerbass walked over to be griddig at be all the while.  He just strolled over and thrust this hadkerchief at be thed he…. he…. Huh… Hcchhxxx…Huh… Hcchhxx… Huh-ECCCHHOOO! …. Thed he just watched frob the back of the roob.'

 

Anabella sighed. 'Jonathan, my love, you are going to have to blow your nose.  I cannot understand a single word you are saying.  Maybe I should arrange cook to heat up some chicken soup. How does that sound?' 

 

Before long the powerful magician was rendered quite helpless before a roaring fire, blankets draped over his shivering form and his feet bathing in a hot mustard bath.  Not the hot tea nor the chicken soup had done a thing to sooth him, if anything his sniffling, sneezing, coughing and spluttering were growing in intensity.  

 

'It is quite beyond me where this has come from.'  She commented to the maid.  'He was quite well this morning.'

'Perhaps it's an enchantment, Ma'am.  A proper nasty one at that?  I have never trusted that Norrell.  His eyes are too close together for his own good.'

'Well I can't see what his eyes have to do with anything.  Besides, I thought enchantments were meant to be pleasant deeds, not, well whatever this is.'

Jonathan, who had at that moment been bent over a steaming bowl of eucalyptus water, looked up from under the towel draped over his head and shoulders, he mumbled crossley ' You do doe I cad hear you?'

Arabella snorted in irritation. 'Well good. Maybe then you might be kind enough to explain how you go out to buy a book and come home an hour later with raging pneumonia?  Honestly Jonathan, I can't let you out of my sight these days, what with the flock of Roe deer suddenly appearing in the Wine Cellar and now this? Perhaps you ought to take up carpentry or become a tailor or something.  Anything but magic?' 

 

He muttered something unintelligible, ducking back under the towel with a chesty sounding cough.  

 

'I am sorry, what? What was that?  I mean, really?  Do I need to worry about the whole household coming down with it or is it just you it's chosen to torture? That's all we need, everybody laid up with mystical colds.'

 

He sat up again, wiping his streaming eyes on the towel.  ' I presube it'll just be be he has given it to.  Childerbass is behide it somehow.  He was there watchig everythig I did.  Every tibe I tried to bid I would start to sneeze, each tibe udtil I just could't….HuhIISSCCHXOO… stop. Huh…huh…. IISSCCHHXXX…Er.' He groaned 'I feel dreadful.  Bella, would you be a love ad pass be that big dark greed book frob by desk? The ode with the gold stitchig? Baybe I cad fide a spell to counteract it?' 

 

Bella shook her head.  By this point, odd things had begun to happen with each of Jonathan's sneezing fits.  A row of cuckoo clocks had appeared on the window sill, merrily cuckooing away to themselves, terrifying the dog in the process.  The candelabra were swirling around the dining table like they were dancing a waltz and now the pianoforte was playing to itself to add to the pandemonium.  

 

'I've a good mind to go and see Mr Norrell right this moment, the trouble he has caused us! Over what? A set of stupid books! Books that he will no doubt insist you read anyway?'   She had taken to pacing now, wringing her hands with upset.  

 

'Johnathon, keep your head under that towel, please!  Honestly.  One more sneeze and I am going to send for the doctor!'

 

That threat had him launch out of his chair, throwing off the blankets and towels and upending the bowl.  

'Certaily dot.  The doctor caddot do adythig whatsoever. You'll see, toborrow I will be right as raid.' Unfortunately his little speech immediately triggered a further round of sneezing that caused him to fumble around pathetically for a dry handkerchief.  Arabella handed him a rag with a shake of her head.

'Right. To bed with you right now Johnathon Strange before your sneezing can cause even more mayhem.  Goodness knows what the neighbours must think!   Let us hope you are right and the rest of us aren't all struck down in our beds with a dose of your cursed sniffles.'  

 

What a pathetic sight he made, traipsing up to bed draped in all manner of blankets, towels and scarves, holding a crumpled handkerchief to his bright red nose whilst trying to avoid a whole host of furniture items capering down the hallways like they were running a derby.  He hoped and preyed that he was right. That it would be gone by morning.  After all, he had work to do.  He had revenge to conjure up! 

 

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This is so fun! I love all the home remedies and fussing and stifles 🤌🏻

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