A/N: My first real angsty fic. Pairings could include Bartimaeus/Nathaniel or Bartimaeus/Ptolemy, but it could also just be Bartimaeus thinking about his previous masters.
I apologize ahead of time for Bartimaeus being very OOC. It's my first time with this fandom as well.
Please review?
Sand and Scones
Bartimaeus lay on his back, looking up at the strange sky of the Other Place. He ran his fingers through the pebbly dirt, feeling it sift through his intangible form.
He hated this.
Sure, he hated being imprisoned by snotty masters who made you do whatever they asked, but this. This was unbearable.
This was boredom.
Bartimaeus had never been bored when…
The djinni sighed and rolled over onto his stomach. If he had been in his favorite form, the pebbles and sharp stones would be digging into his chest right now. Instead, he felt nothing.
He supposed it was all for the better. If he had been able to feel the dirt, it would have made him… what? Nostalgic? That couldn't be it… the Other Place was his home. Why would he feel nostalgic in his own home?
Because the ragged ground of the Other Place was nothing like the soft, smooth sand of Egypt? Or the cool, wet grass of Britain?
It didn't matter. It didn't matter one bit if he missed those places. He had nothing to go back to.
His masters were dead. The two people he had loved most in the world—though he would never admit it—were dead. Gone. Because of him.
Because he had failed in his duties. He had failed to protect them.
Yes, that was right. They were dead because of him.
Bartimaeus pushed himself angrily off the ground. He needed to go for a walk. He needed to get rid of this… this…
Nostalgia. There was no denying it. Besides, denial was a bad look for a djinni anyways.
This still wasn't right though. Bartimaeus had no idea what he was nostalgic for. Those long walks with Ptolemy? Maybe. Making tea and scones for Nathaniel, and then putting extra scoops of sugar in just to be annoying? Probably.
All the memories he'd ever collected with Ptolemy and Nathaniel flashed through his mind. The good and the bad. It left him feeling cold and empty, but not lonely.
He was never lonely. Not when he had those memories. His two masters were always with him.
They were pathetic humans, but he had loved them all the same.
And now they were gone. Because of him.
Bartimaeus realized he had been walking in circles. He chuckled silently to himself and continued walking, dragging one toe behind him to draw a line.
Nothing appeared in the dirt. His form grazed the dirt, but it left no imprint.
He would give anything to take the form of Ptolemy again, to honor his master. Or to make a new form, one that resembled Nathaniel.
Instead, he was stuck here. Bored.
And it was his fault, because he had killed Nathaniel. And Ptolemy. It was all his fault.
Stupid circles.
But there it was, that churning in his stomach. The feeling that his soul was being ripped from his body.
He was being summoned.
And slowly, a smirk crept its way onto his face.
He would never meet someone like Ptolemy again. He would never meet someone like Nathaniel again.
But he could have a good time until he saw them again.
And as he was pulled into the world of the tangible, he smelt it. Sand and scones, their individual scents mixed together in perfect accordance.
Bartimaeus knew then and there that Ptolemy and Nathaniel were agreeing with him.