camwyn: Me in a bomber jacket and jeans standing next to a green two-man North Andover Flight Academy helicopter. (small mask)
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Today's exercise from the [livejournal.com profile] 15minuteficlets community features John Lyon, the Keeper of the Ellesmere Fire. It isn't much to write home about, but I did only have fifteen minutes.

The word for today: marvel.

The examiner shook his head. "You are a marvel, Mr. Lyon," said the old wizard slowly. "An absolute marvel."

"Thank you, sir."

"That wasn't meant as a compliment."

John sighed. "I know, sir," he admitted. "I know."

"Do you. Really." The old wizard leaned back in his chair; it creaked. "Then perhaps you could explain why, exactly-"

"Well, sir," said John, "it's not as if Ellesmere duty is exactly what you'd call exciting-"

The other examiner, a dark-eyed witch with robes of muted red and blue, covered her mouth with one hand. It didn't stop the smile from reaching her eyes. The old wizard sighed.

"And, well, a man can only read a limited number of books a limited number of times. Studying's all well and good, but I've been Keeper at Ellesmere for the last two and a half years."

"Mmm." That was the old wizard, peering over his spectacles at John; but it was the witch who was leaning forward now, eyes alight with interest.

"And so you decided to pursue other studies?" she asked, canting her head slightly.

John nodded. "The idea of becoming an Animagus didn't occur to me at first," he admitted. "It's not as if I brought any books on Transformative magics up to Ellesmere with me, beyond that one chapter in A Wizard's Guide to the Great White North. It's just that most of the time, the only company I have at the Firekeeper's house are the Inuit, and several of their wizards are registered Animagi."

"Peter Arnatsiaq and Madeline Qulitalik. Yes, we know." The wizard again.

"Right. I saw Mr. Arnatsiaq out hunting as a wolf one morning, when the Fire was temporarily closed, and it occurred to me that I'd have a much easier time keeping the pantry stocked if I could get food without having to send away for it."

The witch nodded thoughtfully; even the wizard seemed to accept this. "So," said the witch, "did you ask them to teach you?"

"Well- no, not really," John allowed. "They're busy, and I've got time on my hands. All I really did was ask them how they did what they did, and if I could watch them once or twice."

"You learned to transform yourself into an animal by a couple of questions and watching once or twice?" asked the witch. The wizard said nothing, but the incredulous look in his eyes did all the speaking for him.

"It did take me nearly two years. . ."

The wizard shook his head; the dark-eyed witch let out a little whistle that might've been admiration. "That's very dangerous," she said. "You could've ruined yourself that way. There's all kinds of hazards on the way to becoming an Animagus."

"I know." John ducked his head sheepishly. "Once, early on, I got myself to change a little bit, and then I couldn't change it back."

"What do you mean, 'a little bit'?" asked the witch.

"Um. . . I grew hair."

"Hair," repeated the witch.

"Yes. Lots of hair."

"What, on your-"

"I mean all over." John looked up, ears reddening with embarrassment. "Full-length, full-blown musk ox hair."

This time it was the wizard who grinned, his expression hovering on the edge of becoming a laugh. "That," he said, "I would have paid to see. Mr. Lyon, I trust this is no longer a problem for you?"

"No, sir. It's not."

"Good." The wizard nodded firmly. "In that case, kindly do us the honour of transforming into your animal form, and-"

"Wait." The witch laid a hand on the wizard's arm. "One more question, Mr. Lyon."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Why a musk ox? It's not as if they're exactly common."

John shrugged. "Ellesmere is home," he said simply. "For as long as I've been there. It's just about the only place I've ever felt I belonged."

The old wizard smiled faintly at John. "Quite the marvel," he murmured.

Date: 2003-12-29 01:15 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lwood.livejournal.com
... so he grazes?

*munch, munch, munch...*

Egad, thinking of the various biological issues inherent in going from an ungulant to primate digestive system makes my head spin. How does he do that? Or does he just stomp bunnies flat and take them home or summat?

But I admit the mental picture is a hoot!

-- Lorrie

Date: 2003-12-29 04:51 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lwood.livejournal.com
Yeah, but none of them are doing it for dietary considerations -- well, that's the sort of detail that Rowling regularly disregards in the first place, but your boy did it to eat. We can posit that Prongs didn't bother to grab a snack while off with Moony, Padfoot, and Wormtail, but social concerns were foremost in their choices.

SO it was just... pardon my pun because it's late and I can't think of a better way to say this... food for thought.

-- Lorrie

Date: 2003-12-29 12:59 pm (UTC)

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