Cursed

“Tell me about my wand, then.”

Effie set her bottle down and smiled.  “I must say, I am particularly pleased that this is the wand that has chosen you,” she began.  At Ianto’s raised eyebrows, she smiled and continued, “This wand is the result of one of my curiosities,” she said.

“Curiosities?” Jack asked.

“I did mention that I like to see how different variations can affect a wand’s properties,” she explained.

“You did,” Ianto nodded.

“Well, I became curious about what might happen if I paired a wand core with the wood from the core donor’s habitat.”  She took a sip of butter beer before continuing.  “A wandmaker must court a phoenix,” she explained to them.  “They are very elusive creatures, and even once you find one, there’s a bit of a dance involved in persuading them to gift a feather.

“Funnily enough,” she went on with a bit of a grin, “I tracked that phoenix,” she nodded towards Ianto’s wand, “to a forest in Snowdonia.”

“A Welsh phoenix, huh?” Jack chuckled, and Ianto grinned.

“Well, that is certainly where it has made its home,” she returned his smile.  “What is particularly interesting,” she went on, “was that this phoenix had made its home in that forest in a stand of trees that is not actually indigenous to the UK.”

At Ianto’s frown, she gave a chuckle.  “The Eastern Red Cedar is native to the eastern seaboard of the United States.  But tucked away in a small corner of a wild forest in a part of Snowdonia that is nigh on impassable, there they were.  And who had chosen that spot for its home, but our phoenix…

“Perhaps it was the scent,” she speculated.  “It’s a very aromatic wood.  The scent of that stand of trees was quite pleasant.”

“So you tracked this phoenix down?” Jack asked.

“Yes.  I knew as soon as I found the red cedar trees that it was likely the place the phoenix had chosen as its home, so I stopped at the edge of that stand of trees and spent the next several weeks trying to build a rapport.”

She looked pensive as she remembered her adventure.  “Strange temperament, the phoenix.  This one was somehow both cheeky and bloody minded.  Friendly enough, but unwilling to give up a part of itself to a stranger without knowing the purpose for which it would be used.”

“Well, clearly you were able to establish that rapport,” Jack smiled.

“It was not an easy thing,” she said, “but yes.  I eventually won it over.  I told it about my wands and how I approach wand making.  And the more I looked at its habitat, the more I started to wonder how a wand that incorporated both the creature and its home might behave.  I started to talk to the phoenix about the wand that I hoped to create, if they were so kind as to grace me with a feather and perhaps a branch from one of its trees.

“Those were some lovely conversations,” she said, “if a bit one-sided.  But by the time I left, I had a branch, and I had a feather.  And I had a very firm idea in my head about what this wand would look like.

“I never did enter that stand of trees, understand,” she added after a moment.  “This came from a branch the phoenix brought to me.”

“That’s extraordinary,” Ianto breathed.

“Yes.  I do wonder if perhaps it knew,” she said.  “About you, I mean.  It did not seem to have much interest in the wand I was proposing until I began speculating on the cohesiveness of the core and the wood from the place the creature giving the core had called home.  It didn’t take long for me to work my way from the word ‘cohesive’ to ‘stable’ to ‘safe’.” 

She gave Ianto a gentle smile.  “As soon as I mentioned safety, it flew off and then came back with this beautiful branch.  It was not a large branch, so this is the only wand of its kind.  Though I like to think that all of mine are, to be honest.”

“It’s one of a kind, but that’s not saying much, since all of your wands are,” Ianto laughed, and Effie chuckled.

“And red cedar is naturally this color?” Ianto asked, his interest piqued.  He was certain he did not want anything that had been dyed, but the wand felt completely natural in his hand, so he doubted that was the case.  But still, it was a very unusual color.

“Oh, yes.  That’s its natural color,” she smiled, once again seeming to read his mind.  “The same branch can be almost as white as snow, as well as that deep… well, I call it pink.  Some would call it purple.  Arborists call it red, but it is a deeply contrasting wood, and those are its natural colors, though it can be subtler, as well – a blond or even honey-colored wood with a reddish cast to it.  It just depends on the tree.”

She paused for a moment, deep in thought.  “I agree with Garrick and his assessment of cedar,” she said, nodding to the book Jack had been referencing.  “And overall, yes.  All cedars tend towards loyalty, intelligence, and protectiveness.  But the Eastern Red Cedar goes one step further.  It is not merely protective; it is a guardian.  It is not just loyal; it is bound, both personally and out in the world.  To a mate, for instance, in speaking of the former, and to duty, in referring to the latter.  It is not merely intelligent; it is clever and cagey, with no small amount of wit,” she added with a wink.

“It can be seen as a bit of a paradox,” she added, “as shown by the contradictions it tends to hold.  It can be both light and dark.  Both strong and vulnerable.  Servant and master.  And without proper control, both victim and perpetrator.  It can be explosive and powerful, but also calm and humble.  And wrapped up in all of that is a stability that will serve you and very likely make you feel safe in a way I fear you haven’t felt, in quite a long while.”

“And what does ‘reasonably supple’ mean?” Jack asked, giving Ianto a moment to process her words.

“A wand’s flexibility tells us a lot about its (and its wizard’s) adaptability and willingness to learn and change,” Effie replied.  “We have seen how adaptable Ianto is, and quite frankly I think more should not be asked of him.  Which is why it is a bit surprising that his wand is not rigid, or completely inflexible.  It would not be an unreasonable reaction.  But his courage and his calling – and undoubtedly his work with Torchwood – they temper that reaction, and his agility and resilience have softened any potential rigidity.  ‘Reasonably supple’ means that there is more than enough flexibility for almost limitless learning and growth, but it will quietly protect itself from being subjected to too much influence.”

“So it stands firm but is not unreasonable if a valid argument is made for moving,” Jack nodded.  So many of these characteristics were spot-on for something that needed to be compatible with and support Ianto.

“That is very apt,” she nodded.  “And as for the phoenix feather, I must say I’m not entirely surprised that is the core that has chosen you.  After all, you are a bit of a phoenix yourself, metaphorically speaking.  You have risen from the ashes of your own apparent demise, but it’s not just that from our perspective, you have returned, but you have also been freed from a calamitous restriction on your mind and your body and your magic… your very soul.

“I hope you will be patient with yourself as you heal from your ordeal.  And I believe your wand will help you.  The phoenix knows all about rising from the ashes.  And also,” she added, “the phoenix is a fiercely independent creature, not likely to be influenced or intimidated by the energies of the other creatures present in your blood.  It is also the most sentient of all magical creatures.  So I do not anticipate your wand having any difficulty interacting with you.”

She sat back for a moment, looking thoughtful.  “You know, I have now met several phoenixes and have heard of many more.  It is my understanding and observation that they vary in personality and demeanor almost as much as we do.  This one,” she nodded towards his wand again, “seemed particularly headstrong, so be aware of that as you become acquainted with your wand.”

“Don’t forget cheeky,” Jack added, wrapping an arm around Ianto and pulling him into a side-armed hug.  He kissed Ianto on the temple before turning him loose, again. 

“Yes, quite,” she said with a smile.  “Intelligent, a bit aloof, or perhaps reserved would be a better description.  Friendly.  Kind,” she said, lost in memory.  “And I now suspect prescient,” she added, “and a guardian as well.”

“So why didn’t you just bring that one out, to begin with?” Jack asked.

“Jack,” Ianto scolded.

“Oh, no.  People ask that all the time,” she laughed.  “But it’s like that old joke about what you’re looking for always being in the last place you look.  But of course it’s going to be, because you always stop looking, once you’ve found it!”

Ianto and Jack both chuckled. 

“The process is almost always the same,” she continued.  “With Ianto, it was a bit more straightforward in many ways because we were able to rule out eighty-seven per cent of my inventory, right away.  But as with that last thirteen per cent, and as with the whole store for an eleven-year-old witch or wizard who comes in for their first wand, we rule out what we can, and then the wands that wish to meet the witch or wizard come forward.

“I generally have an idea of which shelves to start with, based on our discussions before we start looking.  But I am merely a facilitator of the process.  As you saw, I just carry the wand from the shelf, to you.”

“Bit more to it than that,” Ianto chuckled, “but I take your point.”

“Thank you for explaining,” Jack added.

“Of course, my dear,” she said, then gave Ianto a gentle smile.  “I am so pleased that I’ve been able to help you, in this small way.  Thank you for trusting me with this, Ianto.”

“This isn’t really a small way,” Ianto argued, then smiled.  “But thank you.”

Ianto handed the wand box back to Effie, tucking his wand away in the inside pocket of the jacket he was wearing.  That would be something to figure out.  He hadn’t had to consider it in years, but if he remembered correctly, there was a handy incantation for creating a hidden wand pocket in one’s clothing.  He would have to look it up.

And with a jolt, Ianto realized that he could now just ask someone what the incantation was, without fear of attack for having asked.  It was a novel feeling, but it was accompanied by a bolt of fear that too many good things had been happening in too short a period of time, and even the pain of the curse-breaking wasn’t enough to keep him from the fear that it was all going to be taken away from him at any moment.

It would take him a while to overcome that fear.  But he had time.  And he had Jack.  And that would be enough.  As though reading his mind, Jack placed a hand on his lower back and turned to his lover, smiling.

“You alright?” Jack asked, having sensed that moment of fear along their bond.

“Just so many good things,” Ianto nodded with a frown that was incongruous to his words, and Jack drew him into his arms, his heart breaking that Ianto was afraid to trust all of the good things that had been coming his way.  Not even good things, necessarily.  Just the end of some very bad things, which likely amounted to the same thing in the younger man’s mind.

Jack gave Ianto a quick kiss as he released him from the embrace, and Ianto headed for the counter, pulling out the bag of galleons he had procured at Gringott’s earlier in the day. 

***