Happy Holidays, maniacalmole!
Dec. 17th, 2022 05:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
goe_mod posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
go_exchangeRating- G (General Audiences)
Main characters – Anathema Device and Newt Pulsifer
Warnings / cw – none
Summary -
After the Almost Apocalypse, Anathema is ready to put her past behind her and start living a new life with Newt. The only problem is, Agnes still has some surprises under her sleeve…
Author Note - My excellent prompt from maniacalmole was "Anathema/Newt, oh no Newt has gotten into magic somehow and chaos WILL ensue. Either he discovers witchcraft is fascinating, he becomes a wizard like in Discworld, he's chosen by some sort of entity like a warlock in dnd, however it happens Newt discovers he can do actual magic and it's different from Anathema's practical approach and she is baffled".
I hope this is what you wanted :)
Many thanks to munchmulch for their help with SPAG. Any mistakes left are my fault alone.
Burning the book went well, as far as he could judge. It wasn't like he had too much experience with that kind of thing anyway. The pages turned into ash, and Newt and Anathema started to put out the fire. Water was splashed on the coals, causing smoke to rise and spread in the air.
Newt coughed, trying to get rid of the weird taste in his mouth. Anathema looked at him, worried wrinkles forming on her forehead. "Take this, it will help you feel better." Gratefully, he received the glass bottle, but stopped to examine the green liquid it contained before starting to drink.
"What is-" he managed to say, before another coughing fit interrupted his words and he hurried to swallow whatever was inside the bottle. No matter what it contained, it couldn't be worse than the metallic taste of ash that lingered currently in his mouth.
Apparently, he was wrong. The liquid was bitter and spicy, and left a tingling sensation in his throat. Similar, but not exactly, to the time he accidentally swallowed gasoline (he was trying to refuel Dick Turpin, the pump was automatic, and things got a bit out of hand).
Choking, he struggled to close the bottle, while she looked at him even more concerned.
"This is just wheat extract, cucumber, spirulina and a dash of radish. Let me try it." She took the bottle from his unresisting hands, opened it, and drank a big gulp. "It's delicious, I don't understand why you'd react like that."
Newt was in no condition to argue further about it, and even if he was, the few days he’d spent with Anathema so far had already taught him that sometimes it's easier to just nod along. After all, each person has a different taste, right?
"I don't feel so good, shall we go home?" he said instead, and was rewarded with a radiant smile and some help to get up off the ground.
Once they started walking away from the fire he felt better, but still hadn't recovered completely. When they returned to Jasmine Cottage he mumbled his apologies and retreated to their bedroom, hoping that a few hours of rest would help the developing headache.
When Newt woke up a few hours later, the bad taste in his mouth was gone, and so was the headache. What was left was hunger, and he went to the kitchen in the hope to find something edible. To his relief, he discovered something there that was even better - Anathema, and a much-needed hug.
“Meal will be ready in a few minutes, you can set the dishes in the living room,” she said after a few seconds of embracing him, not even bothering to ask him how he felt1.
1That was because she already knew he felt better. Being psychic has its benefits.
"Yes, honey," answered Newt dutifully as he gathered the necessary dinnerware. This situation was still new for him - if someone had told him just a week ago that he will spend the night at a woman's house, and even more so, a woman who cared enough about him to make him food, he would not have believed it. Life is weird.
“You seemed a bit green before, I’m glad the colour returned to you,” Anathema's voice interrupted his thoughts, carrying from the other room.
“Yes, that nap was a good idea,” he answered, glad that she couldn’t notice that his face was now very red. His vision seemed to be better than usual, his knees less in the habit of bumping into furniture, and even his hearing seemed to have improved. Amazing what a few hours of rest in a comfortable bed can do to a man.
Anathema came from the kitchen, holding a tray with several dishes. The rice seemed tempting enough, and so was the curry. The salad, on the other hand, was less so, with vegetables that seemed like they would like to be somewhere else at the moment, preferably at a compost heap. Refraining from commenting on the quality of the dishes, Newt helped her to organise them on the table and started to fill their plates.
When he held the salad, a loud noise was heard, and the power stopped. Newt mumbled his apologies and turned on the flashlight that was on the table2. After a quick visit to the main electricity board and fumbling with the switch, the light returned to the house, and they resumed their meal.
2Anathema had learned very quickly about the necessity of leaving flashlights around the house. For some reason, Newt's ability to sabotage electricity intensified in her presence.
Anathema reached her hand towards the salad but stopped in amazement. Instead of sad and wrinkled vegetables, they were fresh as if they were picked just a few minutes ago, not left forgotten in the pantry for more than a week.
They looked at each other in bewilderment, but could not find any reasonable explanation. After a few seconds, the hunger had bitten their curiosity, and they returned to eat. Besides, it wasn't the first time that something weird happened near them, and since this time it was in their favour, and not related to the end of the world, they were happy to let it go.
They finished the meal, and Newt cleared the dishes. Upon returning from the kitchen he brought with him two bottles of wine (white for her, red for him) and a corkscrew. Relaxing again on the couch, his feet tucked on Anathema’s lap, he opened both bottles to let them breathe (he was still not sure why drinks need to breathe. Should he feed them as well?).
After a few minutes, his nose started to tingle, and he scratched it a few times. Eventually, he gave in to the temptation and sneezed, disturbing Anathema's peace. She huffed in mild annoyance and exploited the opportunity to pour them the wine. The tingly sensation in his nose grew stronger, while a thought flashed in his mind.
"Give me your glass, please, I want to check something."
Anathema looked at him, confused: "if you want to drink you can just ask, you know, but you don't even like white wine. And besides, with you sneezing like that, it's probably better if we don't share a glass."
Not sure how to deal with her logic, he did not even try. "It's not about that. There is something wrong with your wine."
Confused, she smelled her glass, and after not finding any fault with it, took a cautious sip, only to spit it back immediately. "How did you know?"
Newt shrugged, uncertain himself. “Maybe my nose is still sensitive after the fire today? Anyway, better to use that bottle for vinegar.”
They continued talking, laughing, drinking and doing other activities well into the night. By the time they reached the bedroom, much later that evening, the events of the previous day were behind them, belonging to the past. Or, at least, that’s what they thought.
The next morning was a different kind of peaceful – the bedroom was full of flowering Digitalis Purpurea in all the colours of the rainbow (despite the fact, which was unknown to Newt, that its flowers are only pastel). Anathema was the first to wake up, and upon discovering all that flora, did not hesitate to bring it to Newt's attention.
"What is going on here?" she asked in a voice loud enough to wake the dead, or, in this case, the sleeping-very-soundly.
Newt struggled to open his eyes, and gasped when he managed to do so. "Aren't this your favourite flower? I think we talked about them yesterday, just before burning the book."
"Yes, but that does not answer the question of why they are blooming in my bedroom.” Anathema walked to the window, working her way slowly between the giant flowers. "My garden! We are trapped!"
Newt rushed (as much as he could) to stand beside her, worried that a tree had fallen on the road or something similar. The reality he saw was just the other way around – the hedge had grown overnight and created an ominous wall between their house and the rest of the world.
"I don't see the harm in it. I can think of a few ways to pass our time together," he said, only half-jokingly, but the look he got from Anathema silenced him.
"Of course there is harm! This is a disturbance to the ecological system of the village."
"It's just a few plants, no need to make a fuss out of it," Newt tried to defend the overgrown hedge, not sure why he felt the need to do so. It wasn't his fault that the plants grew that much; it's not like he has power over plants or something. Right?
His beautiful, brilliant and very patient girlfriend exhaled slowly, in a clear attempt to calm herself. "Ecosystems are very complicated, and every little change can harm them. It will break the sodium nitrogen cycle of the soil, and that will affect the flora. And do you know what eats plants? Animals! Everything is connected and depends on the other elements in the area, especially if they are as large as a 3-metre-high hedge!" The last sentence was said in a tone that was closer to irritation than patience, but that was perfectly logical under the circumstances.
Newt held his hands up in the world-accepted gesture of surrender, and the flowers in the room hurried to arrange themselves between him and Anathema.
"Are they trying to defend you?" Anathema asked, doing her best to stay calm and mostly succeeding in it.
"It appears so," Newt shrugged. "But how? And why? It's not like I need protection from you."
This time her facial expression was of pure irritation, with no trace of patience. The effect was impressive, he had to admit, backing up one step and allowing a few more flowers to separate them.
"It appears that you are, in fact, related to the plants. That can also explain how the salad recovered yesterday. And how you knew my wine was not good, you sensed the grapes somehow.” She smiled in satisfaction, happy to solve that mystery. Then she looked again from the window, and her smile fell short. “How did it happen?"
He tried to recount the events of the day before, and gasped when the realisation hit him like a fallen branch. "The book! I breathed some of the smoke, and then you gave me that herbal drink… It must be connected." He sank to the bed in despair, not sure what he was about to do now.
The plants seemed to capture his mood, parting enough to allow Anathema to get close to him. She touched his shoulder gingerly, not wishing to scare him and create another burst of blossoms in her bedroom. To her relief, he turned toward her and buried his head in her neck. They stayed like that for a while, both thinking about their next steps.
After taking a few shared breaths, Anathema asked softly, “Can you return things to the way they were?”
Newt nodded in silent agreement, spread his arms wildly and waved them like a conductor. Anathema cast a doubtful glance and he shrugged in return. “Can’t hurt, right?” He closed his eyes, and concentrated on the mission at hand. Slowly but surely the flowers in the room wilted and shrank until at last they were gone completely. Encouraged by his success, Newt returned to the window and repeated the process for the hedge.
“Now that the right order of things had returned, and an ecological disaster was averted, shall we have breakfast in the coffee shop?” Newt asked.
Anathema nodded in agreement, and both left the bedroom. Behind them, the room was just as it had always been. Well, almost - a single flower remained underneath the bed, just in case…
Really interesting
Date: 2022-12-17 05:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2022-12-18 02:31 am (UTC)loved it.
(no subject)
Date: 2022-12-18 05:10 am (UTC)First of all, the mods were right, that IS one of the cutest titles I’ve ever seen!
“(he was trying to refuel Dick Turpin, the pump was automatic, and things got a bit out of hand)” Oh boy lol
Oh he seemed a bit GREEN, did he?
Newt knowing nothing about alcohol is relatable, haha
Those flowers are LOVELY! And they’re her favorite :’) He just wanted to surprise her with a beautiful garden! And some seclusion from the rest of the world doesn’t sound so bad to ME, but I GUESS I can’t blame Anathema for being reasonable about the giant hedges XD
The way they hold each other while they’re thinking things through is so sweet :)
You HAVE to wave your arms like a conductor when doing magic, otherwise how magical ARE you really?
And one last flower :D
Secret author, thank you so much!!! Plant magic is the best magic, and I love how Newt is, in a way, totally inept at it, but also really powerful at it without realizing, but MOSTLY just wants to use it to flirt with Anathema, which is all so in character :D Now I just want to see him interact with CROWLEY’S house plants. Will he give them the power to rise up against their tormentor!? Look out, Crowley! Or maybe he’ll just be jealous that Newt is somehow a better gardener than him.
This is exactly what I was asking for, and you wrote their relationship so sweetly! Thank you <3<3<3 And Happy Holidays!