Archive of Our Own ^beta

All his life, Mr Segundus imagined doing magic in a spacious room, the starry skies pouring the night light inside, with tools and ingredients made specifically for him.
After countless fruitless attempts – that took place in rooms at least thrice as small as that imaginary one, with windows so small even one star was barely able to squeeze through, and with materials which could only be described as affordable ^[1] – he stopped thinking of practice whatsoever, banishing such thoughts from day dreams and night dreams alike.
And now, the man he once thought to be a dark harbinger ^[2] stood there and demanded Mr Segundus did magic.
Poor Mr Segundus cursed himself for bragging about his knowledge of the Restoration and Rectification, but he did know this spell well, and now only needed...
His thoughts were hazy – they'd been so for months, but never it was this inconvenient. He needed...
"Ah."
He shivered. Lady Pole was looking at him more intensely than ever, and there were two more eyes watching him, almost palpably in this fog of the malignant magic (which because of Mr Segundus's excitement now felt less and less imposing with every second).
He had no time to go and search for something that would work as pieces of a cross better than anything he could find here, so he looked the room over, in panic.
"Oh," he breathed out with relief, as if he managed to step away from the edge of a chasm, and picked up a spoon from Lady Pole's bedside table. It wasn't, unfortunately but understandably, accompanied by a fork or a knife, so Mr Segundus had to continue his search.
"Forgive me, my Lady," he mumbled and opened Lady Pole's dressing case, "I have no other choice."
Lady Pole made no comment on that, but that other stare – which originated from Childermass, obviously – was amended with a huff. Its nature was inconceivable to Mr Segundus at the moment.
His hands started shaking, and he dared to look up at the dark magician – a fellow magician now! The man was half-smiling for reason just as incomprehensible, leaning against the door frame, and Mr Segundus thought, out of nowhere, that he did it only partially because of the vertigo they were both experiencing.
The first drawer Mr Segundus inspected contained nothing of use, but he was more fortunate with the second one. Under laces and ribbons ^[3] lay a bodkin, several, in fact, all more uniform than the combination of one of them and the spoon, but the latter already felt like it was a part of the spell, and Mr Segundus almost giggled at this sensation.
He threw a glance at Childermass again, to see if he felt it too. However, Childermass wasn't looking at him any more, putting his attention to something else in his hand, suspiciously familiar.
No, Mr Segundus shook his head, it's his memorandum book, not mine.
Because if it was his, Mr Segundus would feel immensely conscious about his notes as well. His little messy handwriting; the silly spelling mistakes that kept creeping inside words because his mind often worked too fast for his hands; ink stains, wax stains, tea stains, that page that he spilled an entire cup of milk on! No-no-no ^[4], Mr Segundus thought, what if Childermass finds all the exclamation marks to be too much? When one per point is perfectly enough? Or a nota bene? Why don't I use nota bene's like a decent scholar would? Martin Pale would! And Mr Nor— I don't care what Mr Norrell uses! ^[5]
Mr Segundus's head began to spin again, and Lady Pole's not-very-polite cough brought him back to what he was doing. And he was doing magic!
The third and the last element, apart from the incantation ^[6], was something to hold the cross together. The ribbons would perform this function perfectly, especially the red one in the farthest corner of the drawer, but he needed help with tying the knot, which was challenging with only two hands. Seeking help from Lady Pole was ridiculous, so Mr Segundus straightened up to go and engage Childermass's hands ^[7] in this action. But the world around him went briefly dark, and he was caught by the elbow by Lady Pole's maid who he could swear wasn't there a moment ago ^[8]. The girl also immediately snatched the ribbon from him and deftly tied the spoon and the bodkin together.
"Thank you, Elizabeth," Mr Segundus said vacantly and looked at Childermass again, the last time before finishing his first ever actual spell.
He suddenly lost all the confidence (and by this contrast, was taken aback by the fact he was more or less confident this entire time), but the inappropriate lop-sided smile reassured him – what a queer effect! ^[9]
Do the magic, it said, itself just a tad uncertain, but impatient.
So Mr Segundus did the magic.

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1. An unpleasant word which Mr Norrell surely would use as an insult. [back.]
2. After their not-first meeting, it slowly became apparent to Mr Segundus that he had indeed seen Childermass already – as well as the way how he saw him, and this also took a great deal of thought-banishing. [back.]
3. As well as other hairdress things that he called in his head "fol-de-lols". [back.]
4. As you might've noticed, he did begin feeling conscious about his notes. [back.]
5. Even his thoughts appeared to have too many exclamation marks, and he was vaguely aware of it but too busy to worry about it. There was always time for it later. [back.]
6. Which he learnt years ago almost against his will: fate – it was fate, he knew it now – pressed the words into his mind the first and the only time he held a book of magic outside Mr Norrell's library. [back.]
7. The reddest hues of Mr Segundus's cheeks were summoned much later by those very hands in situations vastly different to this one. [back.]
8. Mr Segundus didn't know at the moment and forgot to find out later, but it was Childermass who unconspicuously called for Elizabeth precisely so she would help Mr Segundus. [back.]
9. Needless to say, in Mr Segundus's report to The Modern Magician, some details of what transpired were omitted. [back.]