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fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme) wrote2016-11-23 07:27 am
fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme) wrote2016-11-23 07:27 am
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Prompt Post #1
ROUND 1
FUCK IT WE'LL FIGURE OUT SPECIFICS LATER
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FILL [9/?]: Newt/other, eventual Gramander; arranged marriage, past abuse, h/c, learning to trust
(Anonymous) 2017-03-13 07:36 pm (UTC)(link)------
“Hobbs, don’t think I don’t see you trying to steal those shells,” Newt says mildly.
The rustling caused by the niffler’s movements behind him stops suddenly. Newt smiles crookedly as he looks over his shoulder. Hobbs looks back at him, one paw hovering over a piece of a broken occamy shell. The occamies are still asleep, curled around the last unhatched egg- clearly the only reason Hobbs even thought he could get away with the theft.
Newt stares at him, eyebrow raised. “Leave them, or I won’t stop them from exacting revenge.”
Hobbs pouts and scampers back to his nest. Newt sighs fondly and returns to his work, pulling his kettle off the fire to cool so he can store the new batch of salve in jars. It has been doing wonders on Frank’s still-healing injuries, and Newt wants to make sure he has plenty in stock for any other injuries that might happen.
He turns to the enclosures and finds himself trailing over to Frank's new desert habitat, pausing to pick up a small bucket of raw meat from the ice box. The thunderbird is far and away better than he had been just a week ago. He still has some trouble flying, but his body seems to be at full strength. Newt covers his eyes with his hand and peers into the distance of the habitat.
“Frank?”
He knows the thunderbird has heard him when the sky darkens. Newt holds his wand up and produces an umbrella before it can start raining, smiling softly. There is some wobbling mid-flight, but Frank settles on a large, flat rock formation. The storm clears shortly after and Newt puts his wand away.
“Well, good morning to you,” Newt says, reaching out slowly.
Frank pushes his face forward, into Newt’s hand, with a soft caw. Newt strokes his feathers gently, despite the feeling of unease that takes over every time he thinks about what must happen. Newt knows he no longer can put off his trip to North America- not even for time spent in South America. He does not relish the prospect, but Frank deserves to go home.
The only reason he’s allowed it to take so long is that Frank does need time to heal. The last thing Newt wants to do is set Frank free before he is able to defend himself or to re-acclimate to his home properly.
“We’re going to Rio Muni*,” he says, “I have a few more things to check there, and then we’ll be off to North America, to get you home to Arizona. What do you think of that?”
Frank coos and nudges closer to Newt, looking for scratching behind his tufted ears.
“Yes, you seem very happy indeed,” Newt murmurs, “We’ll have to go through New York to get the trains out west, unfortunately. We’ll try to make that quick. New York is really quite a small landmass for so many people.”
Frank cocks his head and makes a questioning noise.
Newt switches his scratching from left to right ear. “Don’t look so worried. I’m just keen to avoid… well, the magical folk of New York, let’s say. At any rate, you’ll be home inside of a month. How does that sound?”
The thunderbird pushes against Newt and nearly nudges Newt off his feet. Newt chuckles softly.
“Enough of that, now. Catch!”
Frank rears slightly and thrusts himself into the air, wings stretched wide to snap up the meat that Newt throws for him. Newt watches the thunderbird fly up into the heights of the undetectable expansion charm and then turns back to the rest of the habitats. Dougal is watching the occamy nest- keeping the eggshells safe until Newt decides the baby occamies are ready for him to collect the shells for study. (They don’t seem to need to eat them or break them down, but they seem to appreciate having them left alone.) Some of the occamies are awake and chirping. The last eggs still shows no signs of hatching.
“And how are we doing?” he murmurs, placing his arms in their nest. He rests one hand on the unhatched egg.
The babies swarm around him. One slides up his arms and drapes around his shoulders. Dougal watches with sharp eyes. He’s adopted the occamies as surely as Newt has.
“We’re nearly to Rio Muni,” Newt muses to Dougal, shifting the occamy on his shoulders into a more comfortable position, “If we get off the trail when the caravan stops and start moving west on foot I’d say we’ll make it to Bata by the end of the week. Should be easy enough to book passage to America within a few days of that.”
Dougal chirps and watches the occamy slither down from Newt’s shoulders back into the nest. Newt summons the storage container he keeps their food in and spreads a handful among them. They dive in a chaotic frenzy for it. Newt picks up the unhatched egg while they’re busy and holds it close to his chest. Several of the occamies looked up, wide eyes blinking, cheeping.
“Mummy’s going to carry this one for a while,” Newt murmurs to them. Dougal tilts his head as if in question and makes a soft sound. Newt strokes the egg gently. “I think it’s still viable- it looks like the last one just before it hatched. I think if it’s near my body the extra warmth will help.”
Dougal hops down from the nest and follows Newt back into the shack. He climbs up on Newt’s desk and palms at the world map. His hand lies over North America.
“Yes, I know,” Newt says, “Of course I’ve been putting it off. And we are on our way. But if we left for the Americas without seeing the west of Africa I might have missed a great opportunity to do complete research for my book.” He smiles a tiny, bitter smile. “If I’m found out in New York, who knows if I’ll be able to leave again?”
The four-day trip from Cairo so far has taken Newt through the Libyan Desert and the upper range of the territory that makes up French Equatorial Africa. The caravan that Newt’s chucked his lot in with for this part of the trip (he’s been on 4 different trains and had to hitch rides with six caravans just to get here) is currently on its way through Cameroon.
The travel has been equal parts beautiful, delightful, and disturbing.
Newt has found a growing unrest and tensions have run deep under the surface of every interaction he’s had since leaving Cairo both among muggles and wizards (it has something to do with the aftermath of the Great War and colonies and European Wizards in West Africa seem to be following the lead of their Muggle governments), but he has tried his best to be out of the suitcase and exploring as much as he can at every stopping point.
He spends enough time far enough away from people that it’s always just a little shocking when he winds up experiencing the uncomfortable tension himself. But even spending so much time keeping to himself, he’s taken to keeping his wand easily accessible.
Newt’s alert spell sounds in the shack and he looks at the mirror which he’s spelled to act sort of like a muggle film- it shows him the scenery directly in front of the suitcase. Currently, it seems to be showing a sort of a rest stop. The spelled map of Africa shows Newt on the border between Cameroon and Rio Muni.
“Excellent. Give it a minute and then we’ll slip out.”
+
“Bloody American wizards and their bloody aversion to all things Muggle,” Theseus mutters, stopping himself from reaching for his telephone for the third time that day.
He rubs at his eyes.
It’s become such habit over the last year to simply call Percival so they can coordinate information about Newt sightings, or, more disturbingly, reports of Grindlewald. Now he can’t even be sure that Percival is really Percival. It’s driving him slowly mad.
Are Percival’s contacts still sending Percival information about Newt? Newt’s telegram mentioned his intention to go to the Americas, but didn’t specify North or South. What is Percival wasn’t Percival? Would they know what Newt’s relation to Percival was? Would they act on it if they did? Without knowing anything for certain, however, he can hardly make an intimation that something is wrong with Percival to the Magical Congress of the United States of America.
He stands abruptly and leans on his desk, “Helene!”
Helene pokes her head in from the open study door, “Sir?”
“I need to speak to the Minister,” Theseus says.
“Which one?”
“Himself,” Theseus replies, coming out from behind the desk to slip into his robes, “What’s his schedule like today?”
“Empty as he can afford for it to be,” Helene says. She lifts her eyebrows into her hairline, “You hate Himself.”
“Not much to like- bloody coward kept us out of the War, even with the threat of Grindlewald’s dark wizards,” Theseus says, baring his teeth, “Almost like he wanted them to win. Between Grindlewald’s surge in prominence lately and this sudden change in my American counterpart’s behavior, I’m sure he’ll want to discuss proactive countermeasures for our security. Maybe even send an operative over to New York to have eyes on the scene.”
“An operative?” Helene asks. Her eyes light up.
Theseus chuckles, “Let’s see what Himself has to say about it, first.”
“I’ll start packing,” Helene says dryly, “I’ll just fire-call his offi-”
“Scamander!” shouts a voice from Theseus’s office fireplace.
It’s the one in his private study. Theseus and Helene look at each other with wide eyes. Theseus leaves his study door open so Helene can take notes and nods at her. She casts Silencio on his outer office. Only then does Theseus approach the fireplace. The Minister of Magic stares up at him from the coals.
“Minister,” Theseus says, “How can I help?”
“Grindlewald has disappeared from our sights in Europe,” the Minister says, “And I’ve just had a report from the President of MACUSA. Seems they’re being terrorized by some sort of creature over there, but so far they’ve been unable to figure out what it might be.”
Theseus keeps his face carefully neutral. “What did our Beast Division have to say?”
“The report from America is too vague for a conclusion, apparently,” the Minister says, grumpily. He peers up at Theseus intently, and his voice is hopeful, “Isn’t your brother over there- married to someone or other in MACUSA? He was expelled from Hogwarts for dealing in dangerous creatures, I recall.”
“He’s engaged, Minister, and still in Africa,” Theseus says tightly, “He’s still working on his book.” The Minister sighs and Theseus can almost see him deflating in disappointment. Theseus jumps on it, “I’m sure I can send a delegation of ours to MACUSA to offer our help if the proper diplomatic channels are open.”
The Minister nods slowly, “Yes, yes, they’ve extended a request for all nations to come together for a convention on the problem. Seems they’re sure a breach in the Statute of Secrecy is imminent; something about witch hunters gathering steam. The report is on its way down. Put together your best and I’ll inform the president that our delegation will be on its way.”
Theseus does his best not to roll his eyes: Americans are always sure that the Statute of Secrecy is about to be breached. He gives a brief salute. “I’m on it, Minister.”
+
When Newt finally reaches Bata, he finds shelter in the form of a British customs house and books his passage on the next steamship heading for New York through them. He’ll have to wait a week for the next ship out, but frankly, any delay is appreciated.
He trudges up the narrow, creaking stairs to the room provided. He sets his suitcase on the bedside table, wards the door to the room, and falls onto a thin, cheap mattress covered with a thin bedspread. It’s warm enough that Newt can’t imagine needing it. He allows the locks to pop on his suitcase and only opens one eye lazily as Dougal pokes his head out.
“How are the others?”
Dougal chirps happily, nodding- the other creatures are settled and content. He climbs out of the suitcase and goes to the window. Newt watches Dougal at the window for a moment. The trek from the border of Cameroon to Bata was one of the more trying hikes he’s ever had to take.
“What do you think, Dougal?” Newt asks softly, “In theory, I’ve still got several months before I must marry again. Will the Americans let me through?”
Dougal climbs onto the bed beside Newt and starts combing nimble fingers through Newt’s hair. Newt smiles softly and pulls the cocoon of the Swooping Evil from his pocket, holding it up to study it. He’d picked it up from a tribe just inside the border of Rio Muni. They’d been having problems with the creature, which apparently had a tendency to eat human brains.
“Must find a better, new diet for you that we can keep consistent,” Newt murmurs to the cocoon.
He sits up, dislodging Dougal’s fingers from his hair. He’s not entirely sure he’d call the week through Rio Muni a success research-wise. Outside of the Swooping Evil he’s taken to calling Hannah, he’s only learned that there are several non-magical insects and creatures who simply look like they might be magical creatures. It’s a disappointing but not entirely surprising; some of the older bestiaries he’s been working with were written from second or third-hand accounts.
“No time like the present,” he says, looking down at Dougal, “It looked like the Swooping Evil produced some sort of venom, didn’t you think?”
Dougal nods.
Newt nods back, “Well, then. Let’s see what we can figure out in a week.”
------
*Rio Muni/Equatorial Guinea: After doing some very rudimentary checking, Rio Muni and Bioko were united into Spanish Guinea between 1926 and the 1950s, and didn't actually become Equatorial Guinea until like the 1960s. So, Rio Muni it is.
Re: FILL [9/?]: Newt/other, eventual Gramander; arranged marriage, past abuse, h/c, learning to trus
(Anonymous) 2017-03-14 11:49 am (UTC)(link)And I really like Theseus here - he's so determined to look after his brother, it's lovely
Re: FILL [9/?]: Newt/other, eventual Gramander; arranged marriage, past abuse, h/c, learning to trus
(Anonymous) 2017-04-06 03:30 pm (UTC)(link)Thanks for commenting!
Re: FILL [9/?]: Newt/other, eventual Gramander; arranged marriage, past abuse, h/c, learning to trus
(Anonymous) 2017-03-14 03:42 pm (UTC)(link)Love the new chapter!!!
Re: FILL [9/?]: Newt/other, eventual Gramander; arranged marriage, past abuse, h/c, learning to trus
(Anonymous) 2017-04-06 03:30 pm (UTC)(link)Thanks!