Title: Jonathan & Gilbert - a drabble
Author: Amanda Saitou
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Norrell, Strange and related characters all belong to Susanna Clarke, I make no profits of them.
Summary: A day in the life of the two England greatest magicians of their time. Set a few months after the end of the book. Jonathan's POV.
A/N: Aye, here is my first attempt at this beloved fandom of mine!
JONATHAN AND GILBERT – a drabble
It is the fifth time he asks me to close that window. I try to hide my impatience and remark that there's no wind at all coming from said window, trying to keep up with my reading. He stares at me saying something about hating this dull weather that has been haunting us these days, and I silently curse the old man. Instantly I regret as I see the shy smile that follows his complaint. It is awkward in his face, but I know it is sincere, and it is solely for me. So I say he is right and Norrell returns to his book, visibly content with himself.
This has been an everyday scene for six months now, and I should be angry, somehow. It would be so easy to blame only him for our current situation, but it would be far from the truth. The truth, the real truth, is that I summoned this darkness to me in the moment I parted from him. Bella was right; Norrell and I should never have parted…
I sigh and he looks again at me, brows furrowed in concern. He is tired, and yet he refuses to let go of the pile of books, continually searching for a way out of the darkness. I admire his stubbornness when I myself have already given up on it. And I know he does it for me, because I know, although one would think it crazy, that he is beyond happy to be here with me. Yes, this is true. I can see it in his shining eyes every day. And I really do not mind about it.
Lost in my musing I forget to answer his implied question, and return to reality only when he's already by my side, grabbing my hand. Another habit of his, an amusing one. It is a feather touch, fingers asking for permission and that only entwine with mine when my fingers enlace with his, the tenderness of the touches in our uncanny friendship. It amuses me because of its innocence and because it seems the only way Norrell manages to show his affection for me. And my way of telling him everything is fine.
To overlook his worries and my tiredness I engage him in a talk we both love, magic. He seems to suspect something, but say nothing of my tactics. Norrell may be considered a dull, difficult man, but for those (being me the only one, in fact) who can know him better, they will discover what a fantastic man he is.
A fantastic lonely man, that is. One would say how he could be alone if he is here with me, but I believe he is as lonely here as he was before we met. We live together in this house, but yet he keeps a distance ones just keep when not used to the joy presence of real and beloved friends. I do not know why he does that, what he fears in our acquaintance… and I wonder if Norrell has ever loved or being loved… and quickly let go of this thought, as something reminds me of how odd is this I am thinking. But somehow, I care…
Only then I notice our hands are still holding together. As I look at his absorbed figure sitting next to me, reading the text out loud for me, my brain starts working on ideas of his own, and I let a grin slip my lips… that he never notices, as always. Well, maybe, and just maybe, I can find a way to end my beloved master's everlasting loneliness…