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babineni · 3 years

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A Night Out in Dyrford

A little something something about a certain farmer becoming a mayor and how that complicated his relationship with his best friend.

Roughly 2500 words, cw for violence ending in beheading

"Dear Gaura"

Edér read the words over and over. Something didn't feel right about them, and he didn't even write anything worth writing yet. A single drop of ink dripped off his quill while he pondered how to continue. He sighed as he ripped a strip off the top of the page. He didn't have a whole lot of blank sheets of paper and he had no idea where to get any in Dyrford. Yet. It's only been a day since he arrived after all.

The Watcher was so much better at this, he mused. Edér looked at the page again.

"Miss having you around. I'll see you soon, I promise."

Now, he ruined the page. The farmer crumpled the sheet as if he could squeeze the thought out of his head. Not that there was anything wrong with such thoughts, he reassured himself, but he couldn't just put something like that on paper and have it sent to a friend. She might get the wrong idea. Edér tossed the tiny ball of paper over his shoulder. A second later he groaned as he stood up to clear it up. He couldn't just mess up a rented room like that.

A rented room. That was a decent place to start, he thought as he sat down again and took out a new, empty page.

"Gaura,

Just letting you know, I didn't go back to Gilded Vale so don't send any letters there. I'm in Dyrford now, I'm thinking about moving here. I got the sense I could help out around here, be of use, all that. And folks around here have been real friendly towards me so far. Reckon they remember us passing through. The mayor invited me over for dinner."

Me, he thought to himself and a chuckle bubbled up from him. He wasn't sure what to make of his situation. He wasn't used to being wanted around. At least not by anyone other than the Watcher. He liked the feeling.

"Willing to bet he'll try to get me to stick around. I'm thinking I'll play hard to get, but I do want to stay. We'll be basically neighbors. So don't think you're rid of me, just 'cause I left. I'm still around, I'll visit as soon as I'm able. And you better come over too."

Edér nodded at the letter in satisfaction. That will do.

"See you, when I see you,

Edér"

The farmer folded the page and a moment later he realized he didn't have any sealing wax. He shrugged. It's not like he could send it before morning, anyway, so it became a problem for tomorrow. That night's problem was the dinner. Edér wasn't sure how to present himself, not that he had a lot of options on that front. He didn't take most of the things the Watcher pampered him with. He could only hope she didn't take it as an offense that he left her gifts behind. It's bad enough he walked away from her. But what was he supposed to do? She became the Lady of Caed Nua, and Caed Nua became one suffocatingly fancy place. It was just like Gilded Vale - a home turning into... something else - something alien - right before his eyes. Except no one would have hurt him in Caed Nua, and knowing the Watcher, she would have let him live there however he wished to live. And he had a purpose now, one that lead him away from Caed Nua. He just wished he could've gone about his departure in a way that wasn't unfair to Gaura. She deserved better.

His old armor would do, he came to the conclusion. It always was lucky in a way, not that he needed luck, but it couldn't hurt. Edér lit his pipe and opened his windows, once he felt ready to go. He watched the smoke leave through the window and be carried away by a breeze. It was blowing towards Caed Nua. He glanced at the letter on his desk and made a mental note to ask around for messengers, as he put the pipe away a few minutes later.

By the time Edér left the Dracogen Inn, the sun was already setting. The mayor didn't live far from the town square, luckily, and the farmer got there in no time, and yet his host was already waiting for him by the door. He looked pale and a little anxious.

'Sorry for being late,' Edér couldn't help but apologize seeing the mayor's sorry state.

He, however, only blinked in confusion. 'No need, you're just in time,' he offered his hand with a strained smile.

'Happy to be here, if that's the case,' Edér shook the mayor's hand. He had quite the grip, he noted. His eyes probably just played tricks on hím.

'It will be just the two of us, if you don't mind,' the mayor said as he ushered him in. 'Wife's visiting relatives in Eina's Rest, dragged the kids along. So you'll have to bear with my cooking.'

Edér chuckled. 'Can't be worse than my own cooking and I've been eating that crap for years.'

The mayor's house was more spacious than Edér expected. It had an upper floor and there were no rooms on the ground floor, just a kitchen, the hearth and a rather long table with plates prepared on each end. And yet there was also something about the place that made the farmer feel like the walls would close around him if he stayed in there too long. Still, he took the seat the mayor pointed to and said nothing when the mayor came to fill his cup with beer that had a strangely red-ish hue.

'It's from Dengler's reserves, beer made of strawberries and wheat'

'That's real kind of you, thanks,' Edér shuffled awkwardly in his seat. He didn't expect any sort of fuss around him and could only hope things wouldn't escalate beyond the fancy beer and the Pearlwood chicken on his plate.

'The last time you were here, you helped out quite a lot around here. This is the least I could do to welcome you back,' the mayor made his way to the end of the table and sat down as well. He poured himself a drink as well, and drank it in a few gulps. 'Sorry, cooking got me feeling real parched.'

Edér drank from the beer for courtesy's sake. 'Don't be. There was really no need for your trouble. I'm really just here looking for work and lodging. Like most folk coming here, I assume.'

'Most folk coming here didn't take part in ending Waidwen's Legacy. Really, the honor is mine.'

'Mine was a pretty small part,' Edér's fingers lightly drummed by the fork in front of him. 'The Watcher did all the important bits, I just stood between her and everyone coming at her mostly.'

'I imagine she had quite a few folk coming at her. I heard some... troubling things about her last visit here.'

The farmer tried to forget about that particular memory. He emptied his cup, hoping that the beer going down his throat would drown the disgust turning into nausea in his belly. The shadows in the room seemed suddenly very long in the last rays of the sun.

'Yeah, she's got a knack for tangling with cults,' Edér chuckled. 'Remind me to tell you about our trip to the White March.'

'You really make it sound like standing between her and her enemies was quite the part to play,' the mayor let out a vaguely bitter laugh. 'Sure hope you got paid handsomely.'

'It ain't ever been about the money,' Edér picked up the utensils and was about to cut into the chicken when he realized he wasn't really hungry. He noticed the mayor hasn't touched his dish either. It was already dark outside and the room looked a lot smaller than when he entered it. At the other end of the table his host gave him a knowing nod.

'And yet you're here, looking for work and lodging.'

'Reckoned I'd be more useful here than in Caed Nua,' the knife in Edér's hand felt almost comforting to him.

'So there's no bad blood between you two, that is good to know. Good on you, son,' the mayor filled his cup again and raised it to Edér, a grin growing wide on his face. 'To your friendship with the Watcher.'

At that moment, the farmer realized why the room felt as crammed as it did: as he looked over the mayor's shoulder, he noticed an axe by the hearth; as he looked to the window, he noticed a garden hoe resting against the windowsill; and of course there was the pitchfork right by the door, just waiting to find its proper place in someone's chest. Completely ordinary things in a completely ordinary house in a completely ordinary village. Dyrford already felt like home. Edér let out a hearty laugh as he stood up.

'Can't really drink to that,' he said. 'My cup's running dry.'

'Well, why didn't you say so?' The mayor stayed seated. If Edér had to guess, he was going to grab the axe the moment he turned his back to him.

'Guess our conversation was just that godsdamned riveting.'

For a moment he and the mayor eyed each other in silence. Then the moment passed, and Edér dashed for the door. He grabbed the pitchfork and without looking, he ducked. He heard a swing going for the spot where his head was a fraction of a moment before. Edér turned around just in time to block the second swing coming at him - and the garden hoe got stuck between the tines of the fork. Edér couldn't help but scoff in surprise. He pulled the pitchfork to the side, dragging the hoe and the mayor at its end along, creating the perfect opening. The farmer landed a blow on the mayor's ribs, drawing a stifled grunt out of him but just as he lifted his fist for a second hit, the mayor dropped their interlocked weapons and lunged straight for Edér's throat. His momentum pushed the farmer against the door. Dull pain bloomed on the back of his head where it hit the door, fuelling a rage burning in Edér's veins. He twisted the hands off his neck until he heard joints cracking and cries of pain, then he slammed his head in the mayor's. The force of his strike sent the mayor staggering back against the table.

Edér could've turned and ran. The mayor could've grabbed a knife from the table and lunged at him again. And yet, both their gazes darted to the axe by the hearth. If only the Watcher were there, Edér thought just as he ran towards his goal, she could've made him faster. But as it were, the mayor threw himself at the axe, and while he may have been on the floor he held on to it firmly. Edér got there a moment later and barely stopped himself from crashing into the weapon held out at him. The farmer grabbed it instead and pulled. Then pulled again. But the mayor held on to the axe for dear life. Edér then twisted the axe downwards instead, leveraging every muscle in his body, and pushed with all the strength he had.

The next thing he knew, he was covered in the mayor's blood. The axe went right through his neck.

'Shit,' Edér muttered as the realization dawned on him: he just murdered the mayor of his would-be new hometown. His legs shook as he made his way to the table and emptied the mayor's glass that he raised to his friendship with Gaura. If only she were there, she would know just the right thing to say to save him from this mess. He sighed. As he walked to the door it felt awfully far away.

Edér wasn't sure what he expected when he opened the door. He certainly didn't expect a crowd gathering in front of the house, staring at him wide-eyed. It was only then that he realized he was still holding the axe. He dropped it hurriedly as he raised his palms.

'I can explain.'

But before he could say anything, Dengler, the innkeeper pushed past the crowd and looked him over. When he saw the blood wasn't his, he pushed past the farmer as well, and into the house. He came back out with the mayor's head.

'The mayor's dead!' He held up the head and Edér was almost certain he was doomed. But in the next moment he saw something completely unexpected: relief washing over the crowd.

'The Twinned God blessed us today!' He heard a voice cry out in joy.

'Bless you, stranger, bless you!'

More and more voices joined into one bizarre, celebratory cacophony, that Edér couldn't process, but it became clearer with every passing moment that these people were terrified of their cultist neighbors and that he was needed here.

'Wait, who will lead the town now?' A question arose in the joyful chaos, and it quickly silenced the crowd. Edér stood stunned as gradually more and more gazes fell upon him, questioning him, pleading to him...

'If you want... Uh... I could give it a go.'

A moment of silence followed his offer, then another question came.

'What's your name?'

An awkward laugh burst out of Edér. What was he thinking? These people didn't know him, they may be grateful but who would trust a stranger with the responsibility of running their hometown?

'I'm Edér,' he answered regardless.

'Gods bless Mayor Edér!'

And the celebrations continued. Edér felt Dengler's hand on his back guiding him away from the mayor's - former mayor's - house and towards the inn.

'Needless to say, your room is on me until we get you a proper house,' he said as he opened the inn for the crowd and for the new guest of honor.

Edér muttered a thanks and did his best to slip away to his room quietly. He left his window open, he realized and the evening breeze was now caressing the letter he wrote not so long ago. It ended up on the floor while he was away and it was now bathed in the moonlight streaming in through the windows.

"See you, when I see you"

It felt like a lifetime ago that he wrote those words. The excitement he felt then felt foolish now. The mayor was awfully interested in the Watcher and the relationship he had with her. Edér knew he wasn't his real target. All those months ago when they first came to Dyrford, that girl they saved wasn't the Skeanites' real target either. He sighed as he reached for the letter and took it to his desk. He lit a candle and fed the sheet of paper to the tiny flame. The smoke stung his eyes.

It took him some time to finally clean up and go to bed, but when he did, Edér was overcome with a sense of loneliness he hasn't felt in a long time. He fell asleep holding onto a crumpled piece of paper that he couldn't bring himself to burn. He liked the thoughts it contained.

"Miss having you around. I'll see you soon, I promise."

#pillars of eternity #edér teylecg #Wrytinge™#i couldn't sleep until i finished this idk what spelling is anymore

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frievaled · 3 years

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[HIT] the sender accidentally hits the receiver.

Soren tossed a crumped ball of paper behind him with the intent of it landing in the trash can, but it hit Tine’s head instead.

meet cute, meet ugly, meet her

tine closes the book and pushes it to the edge of her desk, her assignment resting just beneath where it had first been resting. the lecture has just finished and their professor has passed out a variety of tasks for everyone to follow — hers was simple; fill out the worksheet and report to the training hall. spend her time there until the preference sheet was given back to her, signed and answered. so, tine stays in her seat and fills the parchment with ink and careful handwriting.

there aren’t many students in the classroom, having already finished the sheet or given another task. she counts at least three of them from where she’s sitting in the back row, nearest to the door and backwall. their faces aren’t familiar to her. tine returns to looking at her paper.

it’s the sound of crumbling paper that draws her attention back to the front of the class; a row in front of her, directly in front of her, she stares at a male’s back. he must have gotten irritated with his response, tine muses. either way, she continues writing and—

something hits the top of her head and the shock of it causes tine to drop her quill and let out a squeak. her hands immediately come up to her head as she glances around for the item thrown. it was light, barely able to cause her any harm but heavy enough to make her surprised. her gaze moves down to see a crumbled ball of paper sitting a few spaces from her foot. a glance between it and the boy in front of her.

despite the shyness crawling into her chest and tensing her muscles, tine gets out of her seat, picks up the paper ball, and moves towards the boy’s table. “ uh, here, ” she says, placing the paper on the corner of his desk. “ you threw this and... missed. ” a small gesture to her seat and where the trash can is a few spaces away.

but generosity is easy to adapt to. “ i can throw this away for you.. if you want me to? ”

#〳◌ ⁀ « silent praise; unlike the clap of familial thunder » ( INBOX. )#〳◌ ⁀ « a mother’s cold hands... keep your head up. » ( PROMPTS. )#〳♕ « support tba » ( SOREN. )#atypicalsenerio #{{ soren you mdfernksdkwe

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i-choose-the-danger · 4 years

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Giggly Magizoologists and Where to Tickle Them

I know, It’s been a whiiiile... I hope everyone’s been staying safe and healthy through this pandemic, wherever you are. <3 It’s December 6th, the day Newt Scamander came to New York City, so I guess it’s fitting that I post a Fantastic Beasts fic. I adore Newt so so much. 😊 This one takes place at about the end of the first film. Jacob’s been obliviated, but I feel like Newt may have had to wait a few days for the next ship bound for England to arrive in New York. Tina and Queenie wouldn’t let him roam around the city alone (and I don’t think Madam Picquery would allow it, to be honest) so he’s staying in their apartment until he can go back home. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated. Stay safe out there, y’all!

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“Newt? You still down there?” Queenie called into the open suitcase that rested on the floor in the corner of her living room.

“Yes, I’m here.” Newt had been inside his case since the morning and the sun was already setting behind the Manhattan skyline. He had been working closely with new creatures, helping them get acclimated to their new environments while he studied them. Newt was currently sitting at the small table in the corner of his shed, concentrating on heavily detailed observations and ideas he was scribbling into his notebook. His head snapped up from his work when he heard Queenie’s heels tapping down the steps behind him.

“You’ve been down here all day, honey. You haven’t even eaten at all.” She held up a plate of stew in her hand and smiled. “I thought I’d bring ya a little somethin’.”

“You didn’t have to go to any trouble.” The scent of the stew Queenie had made finally hit Newt’s nose, and his mouth instantly started to water. And then his stomach growled so loudly that both of them heard it. He grinned sheepishly at the sound, raking a hand through his unruly hair. “Now that you mention it, I am feeling a bit peckish.” He accepted the plate from Queenie and set it on the table. “Wow,” he uttered to himself.

“Aww, it’s nothin’. I usually cook to clear my head and I went a little overboard.” A sudden movement in Newt’s vest caught Queenie’s attention. She sat down on the other chair beside his work table. “The light in here must be playin’ tricks on my eyes.” She closed her eyes tightly and then blinked a few times before looking back at Newt. “I thought your pocket just moved.”

“That’s Pickett. He’s probably just restless.” Newt stuck a forkful of food in his mouth. His eyes closed as the flavor took over his senses. “Mmm…” He looked up and flashed Queenie a very brief half-smile before taking another bite of his food.

“Pickett, huh?” The witch set an elbow on the small table, leaning her cheek against her fist. “Is that another one of those… what did you call ‘em? Nifflers?”

“Oh, no.” Newt could feel his eyelids becoming too heavy to stay open for much longer and decided it best to work on his notes after he’d rested. Newt closed the small book and slid it to the back of the table, patting it once with his palm before letting it go. “He’s my bowtruckle.” A giggle from Queenie caused him to shift uncomfortably while he continued eating.

“Bowtruckle. Your creatures have such funny little names. He sounds cute.”

“Would you… would you like to meet him?” Another forkful of food found its way to his mouth. Newt couldn’t remember a time when he had been this hungry. And Queenie had made what he thought was the best meal he’d ever eaten.

“Oh, I’d love to see the little guy!” Queenie exclaimed with a small enthusiastic clap. She smiled proudly, hearing Newt praise her culinary skills in his mind while he ate. “Goodness, honey, if I knew you’d like my cookin’ this much, I woulda made extra.”

“I’m not used to this. This sort of thing.” Newt gestured to the nearly empty plate in front of him. “Home-cooked meals, I mean.” He put his head down with a tight-lipped smile, untamed curls falling down over his eyes. “Pickett, come on out. I want you to meet someone.” Two small leaves poked out of Newt’s vest pocket, followed by two tiny dark eyes, and then followed by tiny thin green digits on either side. Newt’s voice was soft as he attempted to coax the small creature out from hiding. “Don’t be shy. She won’t hurt you. It’s alright.”

“Oh my.” Queenie now had both elbows on the table, her chin resting on both fists. Taking a cue from Newt’s actions, she kept her voice soft and two steps above a whisper. “Peek-a-boo.” The bowtruckle ducked back down into the wizard’s pocket, very slowly peering out again a second later to glance at Queenie. “I see you,” she cooed in a quiet sing-song voice. She could have sworn she heard the creature chirp out a giggle in reply.

“Well now you’re just acting up for attention,” Newt scolded the creature. He held his left index finger just above his vest pocket, waiting for Pickett to grab a hold of it. Once the bowtruckle’s tiny fingers gripped onto it, Newt calmly lifted the creature from the pocket and safely lowered him onto the table.

“Aww, look at him! Ain’t he the cutest thing?” Queenie was completely smitten. She watched intently as Pickett sniffed at the air. The bowtruckle’s little root-like legs clicked as he trotted around the table. He looked at Newt’s plate, up to Newt, and then back to the plate. “Is he hungry too? I don’t even know what he eats.”

“I… I’ve… never given him my food before.” Newt squinted. He sucked his lips inward and bit down on them while he wondered. With delicate precision, he poked a single corn kernel onto one of the tines of his fork and studied it. After careful consideration, he offered it out towards Pickett. The bowtruckle sniffed at the kernel and stole a lick before backing away. Two seconds later, it snatched the kernel right off of Newt’s fork and proceeded to greedily chomp at it. “Pickett! That’s no way to eat in front of a lady!” He could feel his cheeks getting warmer from embarrassment. His eyes looked to Queenie several times before he spoke again. “I’m so sorry. I raised him better than that.”

“You got nothin’ to apologize for. I take it as a compliment.” She knew that Newt was embarrassed, and she found it quite endearing. No wonder Teenie adores you, she thought.

“Alright, Pickett. Miss Goldstein brought that food down here. What should you say to her?” Newt leaned over and brought his face down to Pickett’s eye level. “Hold out your hand on the table, like this, and stay still,” he instructed Queenie as he opened his own hand and laid it palm-up on the table’s edge. His bright green eyes squinted at Pickett, accompanied by a tight-lipped smile. Newt nodded his head toward Queenie’s open hand as he removed his own from the table.

Pickett looked back and forth between the witch and wizard a few times. His little twig-like hands rubbed over each other in an attempt to calm himself. Hesitantly, he took a few steps in Queenie’s direction. He knew that Newt would never tell him to or let him go near another person if it were unsafe, even though it took quite a few days to forgive him for the Gnarlak incident. Pickett now stood next to Queenie’s hand. He reached out his own and touched his little fingers to her palm. It felt warm. He looked back at Newt, who gave him an encouraging nod. This would be a big step, both figuratively and literally, for the bowtruckle. After a few deep breaths, he climbed onto Queenie’s palm and squeaked out what sounded like a thank you, following it with a short smile.

“Oh, you’re just adorable!” Queenie gushed. She kept Pickett cradled in her left hand and let him lay back against her fingers. Instinctively, she reached her other hand out to him and let a finger delicately brush over his leaves. “You’ve been hangin’ in that stuffy little pocket all day, huh? I’m gonna have to teach you two to get out more.”

“I’ve never seen him this trusting with anyone else so quickly before,” Newt said, ignoring Queenie’s last comment. He reached across the table for his notebook. Holding his quill in his teeth, he flipped through the pages and then quickly scribbled some notes on the first blank page he could find. Newt’s hand paused its writing. He glanced sideways at Queenie and then stared at the space in front of himself. “You’re not, I mean you can’t…” Newt couldn’t think of a proper way to word his question. He decided to simply let out the first words that came to mind. He looked at her again with wide eyes. “Are you able to read his thoughts?”

“Oh boy, I have enough of a time trying to understand people’s thoughts and memories.” Queenie blew out a heavy puff of breath. “I don’t know what I’d do if I started picking up squeaks and growls from other creatures.” She playfully scratched at Pickett’s stomach with her index finger. Her lips stretched into a wide smile hearing squeaky giggles escape him. “Who’s a cute widdle bowtwuckle?” she cooed. She scratched at his stomach again, relishing in Pickett’s continued giggling as he curled in on himself. A second later, the bowtruckle grabbed Queenie’s finger and let out a high-pitched squeal.

“Uh oh, now you’ve done it,” Newt said with an amused chuckle. The wizard shook his head, aware of what was going to happen and finding himself not wanting to warn Queenie.

“Uh oh? What’d I do?” Queenie froze as if she’d been hit by a petrificus totalis spell. “I didn’t hurt him or upset him, did I?”

“No, no. You did nothing wrong.” Newt couldn’t hide the knowing grin that slowly spread across his features even though he had lowered his head. He kept his eyes on the bowtruckle and silently waited.

“What’s wrong, little one? You ain’t upset, are you? I was only teasin’.” Pickett pushed himself up to stand, giggle-squeaking to himself while walking onto Queenie’s forearm. “Where’s he goin’?” She looked to Newt, whose eyes were still transfixed on the bowtruckle. They both watched Pickett hop off of her arm and land on her lap. He was so light that Queenie didn’t even feel him until he walked up to her waist. A second later, he ducked under Queenie’s open cardigan and started to spider his tiny fingers across her side as she had done to him. “Eek! Hehehehey! What’s he doohooin’?!”

“It’s just… It’s a game he likes to play.” Newt could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks, although he wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or from the awkwardness he felt over Queenie’s current situation. “Many creatures bond like that. With touch, you see.” He shifted again on his chair as Queenie continued to giggle. “I suppose it’s not too different from parents bonding with their children or siblings when they play or how most species bond when they ma-” Newt mentally kicked himself for rambling into such an awkward topic before finishing his sentence. “Mate.” If every ounce of blood in his body hadn’t already gathered up into his face before, it definitely would have done so now.

“I’m honored thahahat he’s bonding wihihihith me, but EEK!” Pickett had scuttled up Queenie’s arm and was now hopping across her back. Every little step the bowtruckle made was another ticklish poke that sent Queenie into a fit. “How do you turhurhurn him off?” She was now scrunching her shoulders and her nose while Pickett continued sweeping his leaves over her neck.

“I would just have to ask him nicely,” Newt mumbled, looking anywhere but at Queenie while she continued to laugh.

“Nehehewt!”

“Pickett, you’ve had your fun. Come down, now, please.” Almost immediately, the bowtruckle popped out from under Queenie’s strawberry blond curls, scampered down her arm and hopped onto the table. Newt watched him nearly trip over his little rooted legs to get back to the plate in search of more corn kernels. The wizard found himself quite thankful that Pickett had never been that bold when they had first bonded. All of a sudden, Newt recalled memories from childhood. His brother Theseus used to be annoyingly skilled at finding his ticklish spots and he hated it. Or maybe he just hated Theseus. Or both. The very thought made him cringe involuntarily.

“Newt Scamander, I am shocked. You coulda stopped him a whole lot sooner. Or warned me. Shame on you.” She was only teasing the wizard of course. Queenie went quiet, still rubbing her palms against her neck. She listened. She heard. And then she got a wonderfully mischievous idea. “Hey, Pickett? You wanna know a secret, sweetie?” The creature immediately stopped licking sauce from Newt’s plate and looked up at her with wide eyes. His little feet clicked against the table again as he skittered closer to her. Queenie held out her hand and let him step onto her palm. As she lifted Pickett close to her face and cupped her other hand around her mouth to whisper, she locked eyes with a very suspicious Newt. “Excuse us,” she said with a touch of dramatic flair. Queenie turned her back to the wizard, cupping her hand around her mouth once more. Pickett leaned in close to her, eyes wide with anticipation. Purposely making sure that her voice was just loud enough for Newt to hear, she whispered, “Newt absolutely loves tickles.”

“What?!” Newt felt the pit of his stomach freeze over. “That’s not a secret!” His lisp became more prominent in his poorly-masked panic.

“Well, not anymore it’s not, silly,” Queenie scoffed. She set Pickett back down on the table. “Go get him.” She put the back of a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh, watching Pickett skitter across the table with his twiggy arms waving as he squeaked what sounded like a maniacal battle cry.

“That is not what I meant! That’s not true at all.” Newt looked down at the table and saw a blur of green heading straight for him. “Pickett, don’t you dare. Stop.”

“You heard him. Don’t you dare stop.” Queenie sat back in her chair, settling with her arms crossed over her chest.

“No no no no no no no.” Newt tried to catch Pickett before he ran to the end of the table, but the nimble creature was too fast. Pickett dodged the wizard’s hand and used it as a makeshift springboard to launch himself at his target. If Newt wasn’t legitimately panicked, he would have found the sight of a flailing bowtruckle flying toward his face quite amusing. Pickett landed spread-eagle under Newt’s chin with a splat. A second later, Pickett scrunched his arms together and slid straight down inside Newt’s button-down shirt. Again, the wizard’s hand was too late, patting over the shirt collar where the top two buttons were left undone. “Pickett. Pickett, that’s enough of your shenanigans now.” Newt had spoken sternly in hopes of avoiding an embarrassing scene. Those hopes were promptly destroyed. “Now come out of theheheherere. No!” Newt immediately ducked his head down and scrunched his nose, trying not to laugh in front of Queenie. Between Pickett’s tiny fingers spidering around Newt’s abdomen, his feet tapping against Newt’s stomach every time he moved, and his leaves constantly sweeping across Newt’s skin, the poor man was quickly being pushed to his limit.

“Aww, come on, honey.” The witch craned her head to one side to see Newt’s face. “Just let it out. I won’t judge.”

“Mm-mm!” In his efforts to suppress his laughter, Newt ended up snorting instead. He had never been the type of person to allow much intimate physical contact aside from the occasional hug from Theseus, which he only allowed because they were inescapable. Due to this, Newt had no idea that he was still so sensitive to touch. It was almost unbearable trying to keep from moving and hold in his laughter while the ticklish sensations were becoming more intense. A yelp escaped him as Pickett’s fingers poked around his upper ribs. Newt gripped the table edge with both hands and pushed his chair back, huffing air out through his nose every time he fought to suppress his laughter. He could feel his resolve cracking apart with every sputter that snuck past his lips. As torturous as his predicament was, he had to be mindful to keep himself from batting his hands at the sensation and possibly hitting Pickett. A minute later, the wizard lost what composure he’d been hoarding. Newt was now giggling uncontrollably, twisting himself from side to side every time his little companion hopped around inside his now extremely crumpled shirt. He would be hiding away in embarrassment if he could focus on anything other than the havoc Pickett was wreaking across his abdomen. “Pickehehehett! Please!”

“If Tina could see how adorable you are right now…” Queenie was beaming, her smile wide as she bounced in her chair. “She’d get a kick outta you lookin’ all happy.”

“Ahahabsolutely not!” Newt still had a white-knuckled grip on the table. “This doesn’t leave this ro-AHAHAHA PICKETT!” The little beast had switched tactics and started blowing miniature raspberries around Newt’s navel and the poor wizard was losing the last few threads of his sanity. Pickett kept inching dangerously close to Newt’s worst spots as his little fingers continued to knead around the wizard’s abdomen. Please don’t go near my sides, he thought. And then he remembered that he was sitting across from an extremely gifted Legilimens. Oh no. Don’t think. Don’t think. His efforts to clear his mind were futile. It was too late.

“Pickett, sweetie, I think you’re neglectin’ his sides.” Queenie’s eyebrows twitched upward at the sound of a very tiny but very evil-sounding muffled laugh that came from inside Newt’s shirt. A second later, Newt flinched and his laughter went up in pitch. “I could stop givin’ the little guy ideas if you’d take my sister out before you head back home.” Queenie waited.

“If… ihihihihif I what?” Newt snorted again amid his giggles.

“You heard me. Jacob couldn’t hear your thoughts but even he could see you’re both crazy for each other. Tina won’t say anything about it though, because it’s ‘not proper’.” Queenie rolled her eyes.

“You don’t know what y- AAH!” Newt’s words disintegrated into an avalanche of giggles, snorts, squeals, and chuckles.

“Wooooow.” Queenie shook her head in disbelief. “I think you might be worse than Tina.” At that moment, Newt’s body jerked so violently that he almost fell off his chair. “Yeah, definitely worse.”

“Queeheenie, pleaheeheese.” One of Newt’s hands was still firmly clamped onto the table’s edge, knuckles paling, as his other balled into a fist and pounded down onto the table. When Pickett had shifted over to his side, Newt had taken the opportunity to practically fold himself in half by pressing his chest down against his lap in hopes of preventing another attack on his abdomen. Newt was overheated to the point of sweating. He could have sworn that his lungs were on fire every time he tried to take in a breath. He thought that he would be able to hold out just a bit longer… and then Pickett’s little fingers skittered underneath his arm. Newt let out a sound that could have been confused for a thunderbird screech. “Alright, I’ll do it!” he squeaked.

“Come on out, little guy. I think poor Newt needs a break.” Queenie did feel a little guilty about what just happened, but she was able to sense that the wizard was far from upset and - even though he would never admit it – thankful for a little harmless fun.

Newt lifted his head and took in a huge gulp of air as soon as Pickett stilled. The bowtruckle carefully shimmied back up Newt’s shirt and hopped out from the collar. With what strength Newt had left, he brought Pickett back to the table before collapsing his head into his folded arms at the table’s edge.

“Merlin’s beard,” he mumbled into his sleeve, still panting. Newt continued to rest his head there until he could control his breathing. “You are a very naughty little bugger.” Very slowly, a now messy mop of hair lifted, and Newt’s bright green eyes peeked out from underneath it. Pickett was resting against his arm, staring at him ever so sweetly with his leafy head tilted to one side. “Now that look doesn’t fool me for a minute.” The small bowtruckle hugged Newt’s arm and nuzzled against it, making a soft cooing sound. “You’re lucky that I’m very forgiving,” Newt told him quietly. The wizard gently patted Pickett’s back with two fingers. “You might be a little harder to forgive,” he directed at Queenie, even though both of them knew he wasn’t the least bit serious.

“Say what you want, but you look a bit more relaxed and you’re still smilin’.” Queenie grinned down at Pickett, who had scuttled back over to her for some belly rubs. She kept her touch very gentle so as not to incite another attack.

“Anybody down there?” a voice called from above.

“Yeah! In here, Teenie!” Queenie called to her sister. She gave an innocent grin to Newt, who looked quite mortified at her reply.

“I was starting to think you guys left or somethin’ until l saw the case.” Tina carefully descended the narrow staircase into the shed. Her brow furrowed when she noticed Pickett sitting in her sister’s hand.

“Oh. Newt hadn’t been upstairs all day and I thought he might’ve been hungry. I brought down some food and this little guy warmed up to me enough to say hi!” Queenie grinned and held up her hand to showcase Pickett. “He’s adorable when he comes out of hiding,” she added, referring to more than just the bowtruckle.

“Well, uh, congratulations?” Tina walked towards the table for a closer look when Newt’s eyes caught her gaze. He was still resting his head in the crook of one arm on the table and his freckled cheeks were still quite flushed. “Are you alright? You look exhausted.” Tina put a hand on Newt’s shoulder and looked him over. “And overheated.”

“Yes, yes. I’m fine.” Newt immediately sat up straight when he took note of the concern on Tina’s face and how she was gripping his shoulder. He looked away, blinking his eyes open wide a few times to make himself more alert. “Queenie had just convinced me to come upstairs and rest for a bit. I’ll be right up.”

“Good. I’ll see you both up there.” Tina slowly trailed her hand off Newt’s shoulder, awkwardly jerking it away when she realized she’d been holding it. Noticing Queenie’s smile, she told her in her thoughts to be quiet as she hurried to the steps to retreat from a potentially awkward situation.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” Queenie whispered to Pickett, setting him back down on the table as she stood. She leaned over Newt, her hand on his back for balance as she grabbed his empty plate. “Now don’t let me come back down here and find you sleepin’,” she scolded Newt playfully when he rested his head back on the table, scribbling her nails over the wizard’s shoulder blade. A whine escaped him and he instantly crashed his shoulder into his ear, causing Queenie to laugh to herself. Pointing to Pickett, she added, “You keep an eye on him,” before heading to the set of steps leading out of the suitcase to follow her sister. The bowtruckle straightened and chirped in reply.

“It seems to be hard for him to wind down. I worry about him,” Tina’s voice carried down from the top of the steps.

“Hmmm,” Newt hummed to himself. He wrapped his arms into a tighter embrace under his head and nuzzled into them with a contented smile. Pickett squealed and repeatedly swatted at Newt’s elbow. “Alright, alright. I’m going.” He lifted the small bowtruckle onto his shoulder before standing from the chair to stretch his now extremely tired muscles.

“Don’t you worry, Teenie. I think there’s a way you can help him with that,” Queenie’s voice echoed from upstairs.

Newt’s eyes went wide as saucers. He scrambled over to and up the ladder so quickly that Pickett nearly flew off of his shoulder.

#fanfic #tickle fic #Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them #Fantastic Beasts #Newt Scamander #ticklish!Newt #Queenie Goldstein #Pickett #bowtruckle

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patandpran · 4 years

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Magic in the Moonlight - A Saratine/Harry Potter AU

Summary: Tine accidentally ends up with Sarawat, the anti-social but popular Griffyndor Seeker, as his Potions Partner. They venture into the Forbidden Forest together to retrieve some ingredients for a potion and find something more than magic under the moonlight.

Word count: 4300 (I know. I’m sorry)

It was the first day of official classes and Tine was late for Potions, as per usual, and he hoped that Fong had saved him a spot so that they could be partners for the term. He sped into the classroom at full tilt and the rest of the class looked back at him like he was completely insane.

“Tine Aekaranwong. How lovely of you to show your face.” The Professor addressed him dryly. “Please find a seat so that I can continue on with the lesson.”

Tine searched for Fong and saw that Ohm was sitting next to him. Fong gave him an apologetic look and Tine made a mental note to never trust Fong with something as important as seat saving. He scanned the rest of the classroom and saw only one open chair available next to the very last person he wanted to sit with: Sarawat.

They had been going to school together for six years and Tine was still terrified of his classmate. Sarawat was the Seeker for the Gryffindor team, had a fan club of students that worshipped the ground he walked on and Tine had never once seen a smile on Sarawat’s face. They had never actually had a conversation but Tine knew that it was going to be challenge to sit next to Sarawat without feeling on edge every minute he was in Potions class. Tine internally groaned and made his way to the table.

“Uh, hi.” Tine greeted as he sat down next to Sarawat.

Sarawat looked at Tine from the corner of his eye and then shifted his attention back to the Professor. Tine figured that was the best possible reaction he was going to get out his broody classmate so he left it at that.

“Your first task will be to collect natural ingredients from around the campus to concoct a Potion of your own design.” The Professor explained and Tine bit his lip with worry. As interesting as the assignment sounded, he was not especially good at Potions and ingredient knowledge so he hoped that Sarawat had some semblance of experience in the area.

“You have this class to decide what kind of Potion you would like to make so that you can start collecting your ingredients as soon as possible. This will be a practice of trial and error so I suggest that you use your time well.” The Professor droned on.“It will also likely require some work outside of class time so make sure that you arrange that with your partner before you leave class today. All right, get to it.”

Tine made a point of glaring back at Ohm and Fong who had already launched into an animated brainstorming session. They ignored his gaze but he grumbled nonetheless before turning back to face Sarawat.

“So….” Tine mused, pulling at a loose thread on his grey sweater to distract himself from how awkward the situation already was. “What should our Potion do? I guess that will determine the ingredients, right?”

“I’ll handle it.” Sarawat explained shortly. “I’ve seen how strong your Potions skills are and I don’t exactly want to cause any bodily harm to us or any classmates so just let me do the work.”

“Oh.” Tine muttered, surprised that Sarawat had ever paid him even more than a shred of attention, even though what he technically said was an insult. Tine continued, “But I can help! I’m pretty good at research so…. why don’t we at least decide what our Potion will do together? Otherwise the rest of this class is going to go by pretty slowly.”

“That’s fine.” Sarawat shared and pulled out some parchment, ink and a quill. “I prefer silence anyway.”

Tine watched as Sarawat began to scrawl some ideas down onto the parchment and prepare a rudimentary ingredient list based on some of the ideas that he had written down so far. Tine was shocked to see how easily this came to the Star Seeker. Tine had never been strong at academics himself but the fact that Sarawat was both good at sports and was strong in his classes just didn’t seem fair.

“I want to help. I don’t want you to do all the work and I just take credit. That doesn’t sit right with me.” Tine murmured earnestly and Sarawat paused his writing to lift his eyes to meet Tine’s.

“Okay.” Sarawat seemed to be surprised that Tine was protesting the arrangement. “What kind of Potion do you think we should make then?”

Tine mulled it over for a moment and recalled that Sarawat had quite the knack for music. This was a common interest that was shared by them, so Tine shared, “Why don’t we do something that can manipulate or alter the way that people experience music?”

Sarawat’s eyes widened in a way that made Tine wonder if he was surprised by the strength of his idea. Sarawat bit his lip momentarily before muttering, “Synesthesia… we could find ingredients that would stimulate other senses so that people could, in theory, ‘see’, ‘taste’, or ‘smell’ music.”

“Whoa. That sounds perfect.” Tine responded with a small smile as Sarawat began to flip through his Potions textbook, leafing through to likely start to think of some important ingredients.

Tine watched as Sarawat began to take notes before Sarawat paused and looked up at Tine with a glared, “Are you just going to sit there or are you going to make yourself useful? Look for any ingredients that alter state of mind or affect the senses.

“On it.” Tine answered and took out his own textbook.

It looked they were going to make a better team than originally anticipated and Tine couldn’t help but feel relieved by that.

++++++

“Can you pass me a pumpkin tart?” Fong asked Tine and Tine grabbed one absentmindedly and chucked it in his friend’s direction.

Tine and his friends were finishing up dinner in the Grand Hall when Tine realized how late it was getting. He was supposed to be meeting Sarawat at the edge of the Forbidden Forest in half an hour. They had spent the last few days compiling their list of ingredients and one of the flowers that they needed only bloomed in the Moonlight of a certain part of the Forbidden Forest. Sarawat had received special permission from the Groundskeeper to access the Forest afterhours as long as they kept their visit brief.

“Earth to Tine!” Ohm reached over and poked Tine in the head. “Fong just asked what you and Sarawat are doing for your potion assignment?”

“I promised I wouldn’t tell.” Tine explained and Fong and Ohm exchanged a suspicious look.

“You and Sarawat make promises now?” Fong asked, an eyebrow raised in accusation.

Tine pushed himself up from a seated position before wrapping his scarf tightly around his neck as it was likely to be a frigid evening. He had heard his friends and others whispering about he and Sarawat over the past few classes but he had chosen to ignore them. It was true that Sarawat connected with few others in classes aside from Man and Boss but he and Sarawat weren’t friends, they were just Potions partners.

“If you’re jealous, why don’t you just say that?” Tine countered sassily.

“We’re not jealous.” Ohm stated plainly. “Everyone just finds it a bit odd that you and Sarawat are chummy all of a sudden. Sarawat isn’t known to tolerate people very well. His Potions partner last year was Earn and even she barely got a word out of him!”

“Well, I guess I’m just a bit more charming than Earn.” Tine argued before pulling on his cloak.

“You’re really not.” Fong shared with a smirk and Ohm laughed in agreement. Fong continued, “Well, anyway, if he feeds you to the Centaurs tonight, remember that we tried to warn you.”

“Wat isn’t evil.” Tine shared before pulling out his wand. “He’s just always in a state of brooding.”

“Wat?” Ohm repeated incredulously, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Now you have a nickname for him?”

“I’m going to walk away now.” Tine turned quickly and made a dramatic exit, likely earning himself even more laughter from Ohm and Fong but he didn’t care.

It took him a few minutes to get down to the edge of the forest and it made him wish that he knew how to apparate without leaving a limb behind. He hadn’t quite mastered the skill yet and it wasn’t worth the risk, despite it maybe saving him a few minutes.

Sarawat was humming to himself and leaning against a tree as Tine approached him from behind. Tine listened to the melody for a moment, wishing he knew a spell to quiet his footsteps as Sarawat actually had a lovely voice. Sarawat stopped as soon as he heard Tine and turned around to face Tine with an indifferent look in his eyes.

“Sorry it took me so long. My friends were giving me a hard time.” Tine blurted out.

“About what?” Sarawat wondered and started off into the forest, obviously wanting Tine to follow in his wake.

“Uh, don’t worry about it.” Tine watched as Sarawat disappeared into the shadows of the edge of the forest.

There was a part of Tine that wished he was a Gryffindor like Sarawat, where he could boldly walk into a potentially dangerous situation without so much as a bat of an eye but his Hufflepuff-ness definitely got in the way.

“Sarawat?” Tine called out as he walked into the trees, searching for his classmate. He took out his wand and whispered, “Lumos.”

A small light flickered at the end of his wand and he spotted Sarawat a few paces ahead of him with an amused look on his face. “Scared of the dark, are we?”

“I’m just being safe.” Tine muttered as he caught up to Sarawat so they were walking side by side. “But actually, yah, a bit.”

“I’ve always thought it showed much more courage to share what you are afraid of rather than pretending you’re not scared of anything.” Sarawat explained as they ventured deeper into the forest.

After that, they walked in silence for a while and Tine wondered if Sarawat knew where they were going. He hoped to goodness that he knew that way back to the castle as Tine had no sense of where they were or where they had been even 10 seconds before. Tine was surprised to find the quiet so comfortable as he was much more used to listening to Ohm and Fong’s constant bickering and babbling.

“So how do we harvest the MoonLeaf?” Tine questioned, swinging his arms by his side to amuse himself.

“Looks like someone didn’t do the reading I told him to.” Sarawat sounded like he was attempting to scold Tine but Tine could see a small smile on his classmate’s lips.

“Sorry.” Tine chewed his lip in guilt. “I got caught up in a game of Wizard’s chess with Ohm before dinner.”

“It’s not a big deal.” Sarawat responded as they slowed their pace. “We’re here already. I guess you will just have to learn as we go.”

They had stopped at the edge of a meadow that was blanketed in moonlight. Tine concealed his wand as the light was bright enough that he could see everything and did not feel so afraid anymore. Although, that could have also been because of Sarawat’s presence.

The meadow was full of a plant that Tine had never seen before, although he had never paid much attention during Herbology classes to begin with. The plant was not especially tall but the top had silvery leaves that stretched toward the sky as if it were reaching for the moon itself.

“It’s beautiful.” Tine whispered, completely in awe.

“It’s definitely more beautiful at night.” Sarawat explained as he made his way toward a plant. “During the day, the leaves are closed and it looks like an average weed that no wizard would bother even looking at but as soon as the moon comes out, it shows its true form.”

“I guess it’s almost like a nocturnal plant.” Tine remarked as he followed behind Sarawat.

“Kind of.” Sarawat said as he knelt down near a cluster of the plants. “Although that would imply that the plant is awake when, in reality, it is just an involuntary response to the moonlight.”

“Are you sure you’re not supposed to be a Ravenclaw?” Tine rolled his eyes at Sarawat as Sarawat took out his own wand.

Sarawat ignored Tine’s comment and beckoned with his wand for Tine to come closer. Tine got down on Sarawat’s level as Sarawat pulled a leaf out gently to show him. “You can tell that it is mature because of the spots along the edges. We need quite a few but you have to be careful about removing them or the plant will shut on your hand and I can say from experience that it hurts.”

Tine watched in fascination as Sarawat slowly twisted the leaf away from the plant and removed it. Sarawat nodded to encourage Tine to try and Tine pulled one out after a few tries before placing it in the collection satchel that Sarawat had brought with them. Sarawat smiled encouragingly at Tine and Tine felt his heart race at the reaction.

They harvested in silence for a while before Tine asked, “So… you’ve done this before?”

“I sometimes help my Father collect ingredients for his medicinal Potions.” Sarawat explained. “He is a colleague of the Groundskeeper which is why we got permission to come out here tonight.”

“Oh.” Tine murmured. “I see. I figured that the Groundskeeper was a fan of the Gryffindor Quidditch team or something which is why you got special treatment.”

Sarawat prickled at this and Tine immediately felt guilty for saying it. He did not know how Sarawat felt about his undeniable popularity but, based on Sarawat’s reaction, he was not very fond of how people treated him because of it.

“Sorry.” Tine moved to a plant further away to give Sarawat some space. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Clearly.” Sarawat spat and Tine saw a scowl on his partner’s face. “We don’t have to talk. Let’s just this over with.”

It was Tine’s turn to prickle. It seemed like Sarawat had actually been slightly warming up to him but his iciness had returned so quickly. Tine felt a huge wave of regret flow through him but he was not sure what to say to make up for his misstep. If only he a had a Timeturner to go back just a few seconds to fix his mistake.

“I really am sorry.” Tine shared and paused his work for a moment. “I am sure people think they know you all the time and while it is completely your right to keep to yourself, I am sorry for making assumptions about you when I don’t really know anything about you.”

“I don’t just close myself off for no good reason!” Sarawat snapped and stopped harvesting as well, dropping the collection satchel to the ground. “I don’t need to be everybody’s friend. People whisper about me no matter what I do. They make things up about me and paint me to be this mysterious and unapproachable person but… Merlin, when you sat down next to me, I was so relieved.”

“You were?” Tine was shocked by what Sarawat was saying.

“You don’t look at me like you’re scared of me or want something from me.” Sarawat hung his head so the moonlight danced off the strands of his dark hair that fell across his eyes. “You don’t change who you are in front of me and you just treat me as if I was anyone else.”

“Is that a good thing?” Tine was not quite sure where this was going but it seemed like Sarawat had something to say so Tine wanted him to feel safe to do so.

Sarawat seemed to be pondering this for a moment before he looked back at Tine again and answered, “I think so… It makes me feel like I can just be myself in front of you without worrying about what you’ll think of me.”

“Well, I have to admit, I was a bit intimidated by you at first but then I got to know you a bit and, well, you’re certainly not how people perceive you to be.” Tine ran his hands over the dewy ground of the meadow as expressed his thoughts to Sarawat.

Sarawat cocked his head to the side like a curios puppy, “How so?”

“You give off this troubled hero vibe where it either makes people swoon or be scared of you. Like they can’t possibly measure up.” Tine continued, hoping he wasn’t being too critical of Sarawat but his classmate seemed to be listening so he kept on sharing, “But I think you’re actually just so worried about what people think that it makes it hard for you to connect or open up… When, really, you have nothing to worry about because you’re basically the smartest, most talented, most handsome guy at Hogwarts.”

“Most handsome?” Sarawat repeated, seemingly completely surprised by the adjective.

Tine threw a small tuft of grass at Sarawat, hoping to distract from the blush that was currently on his cheeks. “You’re already popular enough, don’t let that go to your head now too!”

“I’m jealous of you, you know.” Sarawat began to gently collect leaves again, his eyes focusing back on the work. Tine stilled at this, “How could you possibly be jealous of a nobody like me?”

“You have real friends, Tine. People like you, for you.” Sarawat’s tone of voice seemed to waver slightly, as if he was becoming nervous. “Aside from Man and Boss, people just follow me around for no good reason. But people actually want to be your friend. They see how fun, kind, and open you are and want to be around you because you’re a great person. Plus, you’ve got a great smile.”

“You’re just trying to compliment me back.” Tine chuckled awkwardly. “You don’t have to do that.”

Sarawat stopped again and looked to Tine. “I know I don’t have to… but I want to.”

Tine suddenly felt as if the trees around him were closing in on him. The dizziness took over and he grasped at something to hold onto but, in doing so, pulled at one of the Moon Leaf plants a little too violently, causing it to snap closed on his hand.

Sarawat moved quickly, pulled out his wand and cast, “Relashio!”

The plant quickly released it’s grip on Tine but the damage was done. Tine held his wrist and winced at the pain as small droplets of blood began to appear where the plant had made contact. Sarawat knelt down besides Tine and inspected the wound. It was not very big but it was painful.

“Episkey.” Sarawat whispered and Tine felt a surging of hot and cold take over his hand before the wound began to close.

“I told you to be careful.” Sarawat accused, even though he looked quite relieved.

Even though the wound was healed, Sarawat kept his grip on Tine’s hand and maintained the proximity between them. Tine’s breath returned to normal but the same dizziness that he had felt before returned.

“I…” Tine murmured as Sarawat steadied him by putting a hand on his lower back. “Sorry. I don’t do well with blood and well, uh, apparently I don’t do that well with compliments either.”

Something that looked like a small smile was tugging at the edges of Sarawat’s lips as he pocketed his wand with his free hand but kept hold of Tine’s with the other. “We have that in common. Is your hand feeling any better? I wasn’t kidding about the Moon Leaf. Even with the healing charm, it’s going to take a few days until the stinging goes away.”

“I’ll be fine.” Tine stared at Sarawat imploringly, wondering why he was so drawn to someone who had basically been a stranger up until a few days ago. “… I think we make a good pair. Despite the danger and bloodshed we encountered.”

“That’s just a typical Tuesday for me.” Sarawat mused with a low chuckle.

The sound of Sarawat’s laugh was infectious and Tine couldn’t help but join in. “Well, I guess you are a Gryffindor, after all. I would much rather stay by the fire in the Hufflepuff Common room than try to save the world every other week.”

“That sounds amazing.” Sarawat sat down next to Tine and hung his head back so he was looking up at the moon, still absentmindedly grasping Tine’s hand.

“I could try to sneak you in some time.” Tine shrugged, attempting to sound casual. “But I guess that wouldn’t exactly be discreet if a bunch of younger students were screaming about you being there but I’m sure we could figure it out…”

“It doesn’t have to be in the Common room. I just kind of meant the idea of just being able to relax with friends, kind of like we are right now.” Sarawat started to pull at some leaves again gently, although it seemed like a harder task to accomplish with only one hand.

Tine registered what Sarawat was saying and muttered, “You want to be friends with me?”

Sarawat slowly turned his gaze toward Tine and lifted their linked hands together. “I kind of figured that was clear by now.”

“Oh… I mean…” The pain in Tine’s hand was slowly dissipating because of the comfort he found in Sarawat’s touch.

“Sorry.” Sarawat stilled suddenly and pulled his hand away from Tine’s. “I didn’t mean to make you feel weird. We don’t have to be friends, I just thought…”

Tine interrupted Sarawat’s rambling by asking, “Who said I wanted you to let go of my hand?”

Tine then boldly reached for Sarawat’s hand and interlaced them again before looking up to see a shocked look on Sarawat’s face. Tine leaned in somewhat, hoping he was reading the situation right and whispered, “See, even Hufflepuffs can be brave.”

Sarawat studied Tine’s eyes at a closer proximity and noticed the moon’s reflection in them. He couldn't help but feel like, in that moment, he could trust Tine entirely. He had never felt the urge to be so close someone and it terrified him more than facing any sort of Magical Beast (and he had battled many). It felt as if this meadow had removed them from their own timeline and they now existed on some sort of alternate plane of their own where it was just the two of them, sharing space and enjoy each other’s company.

Without a second thought, Sarawat brought his lips to brush gently against Tine’s. The contact reminded him of the first time that he had felt magic coursing through his veins: explosive, exhilarating and terrifying - all contained within one feeling.

It took Tine a moment to embrace the reality of the situation but, considering they were in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, he was sure more bizarre things had occurred. If he were to tell anyone the story of his kiss with Sarawat, he was sure that they wouldn’t believe him for even a moment but he didn’t care. He was here and now with Sarawat and while there was a small part of Tine that wondered how the hell he had gotten there, he didn’t feel like questioning it in that very second. Instead, he indulged himself and deepened the kiss.

There was a sudden rustling from the edge of the meadow that sent Sarawat flying into action. Tine watched fondly as Sarawat jumped to his feet, wielding his wand and adopting a protective stance that Tine would be happy to watch on a loop forever based on how intensely handsome it made Sarawat look.

“Wat, I think it was just the wind.” Tine remarked, his head still reeling from their kiss.

Sarawat turned around, the end of his wand lit up with a Lumos charm. “You just called me Wat… I don’t mind it.”

Tine grinned at Sarawat’s response as Sarawat pocketed his wand and made his way back over to Tine. It seemed like Sarawat was going to say something but then he went back to collecting the Moon leaves, as if their kiss had never even happened in the first place. Tine understood the reaction but was also quite disappointed that whatever had gone on between them seemed to likely to stay only in the memory of the meadow.

Tine used his one free hand to start collecting the leaves again, wondering how he was going to be able to sit next to Sarawat every day for the rest of the year without thinking of that kiss. It was just going to have to be something he lived with.

“You know, I wish there was some sort of spell to help me figure this all out.” Sarawat shook his head and seemed to be kind of frustrated. “That all just happened so fast and…”

“We don’t have to have the answers now.” Tine stated plainly, relieved that Sarawat wasn’t just going to pretend nothing happened between them. “In fact, we slow down and take things at our own pace. What is clear is that we make a good team… a Hufflepuff and a Gryffindor… who would’ve known?”

“Potions Partners. That’s a good start.” A moonlit grin spread across Sarawat’s face and Tine felt his breath hitch. The sight was more magical than anything else Tine had ever seen in the Wizarding World.

Whatever this was, it was sure to be an adventure…

#still 2gether #harry potter #2gether #saratine #brightwin #sarawat x tine #wattine #2gether the series #gmmtv #thai bl #my writing #cass writes #bright vachirawit #win metawin #sarawatine

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steve-rogers-new-york · 4 years

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Dip Pens

So I wanted to know what sort of writing tools Steve and Bucky would have been familiar with, and was really surprised to discover that they would have almost certainly learnt penmanship primarily with dip pens!

Dip pens are a writing technology that came after quills and before fountain pens. They are a reasonably straight-forward tool, but they changed access to literacy in America.

Elements and Accessories of Dip Pens

At the basic level, a dip pen consists of three main elements:

The Pen — While most of us will know of the writing point as a “nib,” it is actually called the “pen.” These metal point, commonly made from steel, are easily slid into the shaft, making them easy to change and replace at will.

The Shaft — The shaft is the handle the user holds when writing, and can be made of a vast array of materials (ebony, mother of pearl, silver, gold, etc), but usually wood (or later plastic).

The Ink — Alongside these is ink, usually in an open-top bottle or another temporary container.

Other accessories that would often accompany dip pens:

Blotter Paper — This is paper used to absorb excess ink to prevent smudges. Commonly it would be attached to a holder so it could be rolled over the paper smoothly.

Inkwell and Inkstand — Inkwells are containers that hold ink for use when writing. They can vary in quality and expense as needed. A step up from this is the inkstand, a luxurious desk accessory that would consist of inkwells, containers for spare pen tips, spaces for shafts to rest, and a place for ink blotters.

Writing Pad — This is a leather writing pad that would allow for the smoother glide of the pen tip over the paper and protect the desktop. Again, this was a luxury item.

Cleaning Cloth — A cloth or scrap of rag used to clean pens after use.

Very Fine Sandpaper — Used to smooth the tip of new pens.

Using Dip Pens

To use a dip pen, the pen (”nib”) of choice is inserted into the shaft. The pen point is then dipped directly into the ink to a point above the “vent hole” (cut-out section). A certain amount of the ink will be retained by the pen to feed the strokes. Depending on the pen shape and ink type, a single dip can last anywhere from a couple of words to several lines of text.

Some maintenance and cleaning is required to get the pens into a useable state and to keep them in working order. New pens are often coated in a fine film of oil that will prevent it from collecting ink for use. To remove this, the pen can easily be cleaned with alcohol or the oil burnt off by passing it through a flame several times. Once cleaned, the tip will sometimes need to be smoothed with very fine sandpaper, as they can be razor-sharp and tear paper while writing otherwise. After use, pens will also need to be cleaned of residue ink, as letting it dry will affect its function. For this, some water and a cloth/rag will do the job to wipe it down before putting pens away. If not cleaned correctly, they can become corroded.

Pen Styles and Functions

As these pens were used in all areas of society, the diversity of shapes and designs is vast. Here are some of the key elements to a pen and what it brings to its user:

Tip shape — The width of the tip determines the thickness and shape of the line. The most common being “pointed” and “broad-edge” (also “stub” or “italic”). “Pointed” tips have two tines that come to a single sharp point, and with the application of pressure, can spread and give variation in the line thickness. A “broad-edge” tip has a wide, flat point and will produce a stroke that varies in width from thin to thick, depending on the direction it is moved.

Tip angle — Aside from the shape of the tip mentioned above, they can also come “pointed” or “ball-pointed” (or “turned-up”). As the name suggests, a “pointed” tipped pen comes to a point completely in line with the rest of the pen. Alternatively, a “ball-pointed” pen has an up-turned tip. The difference between the two is the ease at which they moved over the paper. A “pointed” pen moves best when pulled in the direction of the user but can snag on the paper stock when pushed away from them. The rounded tip of the “ball-pointed” pen moves more smoothly across the paper, has more flexibility of movement in any direction, and is less prone to snagging on the paper. It was the predecessor to the modern ballpoint pen. As for the uses, a “pointed” pen will produce a finer line than a “ball-pointed” shaped one. For reference, Image-1 shows them side-by-side, Image-3 shows a “ball-pointed” tip and Images-4 and -5 show “pointed” tips.

Flexibility — The flexibility of the two tines of the pen will affect how wide apart they spread. The further apart they spread, the broader the variation in line thickness when pressure is applied. A stiffer pen will offer less variation in line thickness; while more flexible tines will allow the user a greater variation between fine and broad lines with the application of pressure while writing. Additional slots and notches can also improve elasticity in the tines. Think along the lines of touch sensitivity when using a digital drawing tablet.

Pen Shape — This is the most visually obvious element of a pen. The overall shape of the pen can vary greatly, and this element is both practical (impacts the way the pen works) and decorative. This element includes the “shoulder” (the base of the tines that flares out to varying degrees) and the “vent hole” (the cut-out at the base of the slit between the tines). The full list of types is too much to post here, but Wikipedia has a great visual list of them, and The Steel Pen has great, detailed information about dip pens. For now, I will just focus on the types I think our boys would have been most acquainted with:

Straight — Very simple, straight body that angles smoothly into the point. Similar to the Straight are the Beaked and the Bank which have longer tines. (See Image-4 and the 1st, 4th, and 6th pens in Image-9)

Stub — A straight body that then angles sharply inward with short tines.

Leaf / Flat Leaf / Spoon / Crown — These all have similar rounded shapes. The “shank” is straight until about halfway, then the shoulders flair out in a rounded shape. The result is a pen that looks similar to a spade from a suit of cards. (See Image-3 and the 3rd and 5th pens in Image-9)

Tip Size — The size of the tip will, as you might expect, impact the base thickness of the line.

To get an idea is the sheer variety these pens can come in, have a gander through Wikipedia’s gallery of dip pens!

Identifying Pens

Manufacturers will identify their pens by including their brand name along with the style name and/or number on the pen's “shank” (the section that slides into the shaft). As such, it is very easy to identify pen styles and their makers. In addition, manufacturers would put different design flair into the shape of the pen, resulting in some pretty interesting looking pens from higher-end manufacturers.

Purchasing Pens

Pens could be purchased easily in boxes containing anywhere from 12-100 pens. These boxes could either contain multiples of just one type by that manufactures, or a selection of their styles for different uses (a Straight, a Falcon, a Leaf, etc). While some brands were sold in tins, most I have seen have been cardboard boxes, often with a draw design (similar to modern matchboxes) sealed before sale with adhesive labels over the ends.

Cost Dip pens were relatively cost-effective, which is why they were used in schools over fountain pens and continued to be in use for decades after the invention for the ballpoint pen. Based on newspaper ads from the 1920s and 1930s, a fountain pen could put you back $1.00 - $10.00 (though I did see one ad with sale ones listed at 75c), while a box of 12 “steel pens point” would only cost you 5c. A dozen basic lead pencils look to have been around 10c, and a 2oz. bottle of ink around 10c as well. Similarly, a simple soft-cover 48 leaves book would be around 5c. Do note that these prices do come from ads for large department stores, so cheaper items could likely be found at smaller local stockists.

I personally have a decent collection of pen “nibs”. The ones photographed here are some I recently picked up for Patreon perks and a shaft I kept with my modern pens and markers (it’s too long to fit in the box with the rest of my nibs etc). But after spending an afternoon searching, I can’t seem to find the box I keep the rest of my collection in. When I do I’ll be sure to post some photos on more shapes they can come in!

If you want more in the topic, my full research notes on all topics are available for all $3+ Patreon patrons!

Image Sources

Close-Up of Pen Tips | D.’s Personal Collection Close-Up of Shaft End | D.’s Personal Collection Government of Canada No. 50 Close-Up (Flat Leaf) | D.’s Personal Collection Government of Canada No. 40 Close-Up (Beaked) | D.’s Personal Collection Eagle Pencil Co. E11 Close-Up (Falcon) | D.’s Personal Collection Wooden School Case w/ pens | Source Box of No. 2 School Pens, c. 1920s | Source Coca-Cola School Set, c1930s | Source Shaft w/ Pens | D.’s Personal Collection

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