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storypaint) wrote2011-03-07 11:06 pm
storypaint) wrote2011-03-07 11:06 pm
[Chrestomanci/Cardcaptor Sakura] haven in a heartless world (Clow gen)
Title: haven in a heartless world
Fandom: Chrestomanci/Cardcaptor Sakura
Length: 956 words
Prompt: Chrestomanci/Cardcaptor Sakura crossover for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
spellcoats
Pairing: Clow and Christopher gen; minor Christopher/Millie
Other: n/a
Excerpt: Clow never remembered to announce his visits in advance, which was probably a good thing -- at least, in the eyes of everyone but Christopher.
Clow never remembered to announce his visits in advance, which was probably a good thing -- at least, in the eyes of everyone but Christopher. Christopher said it was rude, but he didn't protest too loudly, because Millie had swiftly discovered that any visit announced in advance was immediately met with excuses as to why this hour, this day, this year just wasn't a good time for socializing.
And that was because Christopher Chant, the Chrestomanci of the Related Worlds, was terribly jealous of Clow Reed, Master of the Clow ("Not one of my most inspired name choices, no, but some things make more sense when one is in one's cups than afterward," he'd said, with a wink and a chuckle, and of course Millie had laughed).
Clow had a certain air of untrustworthiness about him, in Christopher's opinion. He was British enough that his foreign customs always surprised Christopher when they surface. He was offendingly tall. He'd looked exactly the same age since Christopher met him, almost fifteen years ago now, and occasionally made oblique references suggesting that he was quite a bit older still. He insisted on traveling with a winged lion who ate too much and riled up the children, and a winged man whom Christopher could not charm at all (his expression often reminded Christopher of Gabriel at his most irritated and hawk-like). So Christopher thought that there were more than enough reasons to dislike him, and didn't understand why everyone else was so fond of the grandfatherly man.
He always bought presents for the children, sometimes not very safe ones ("How else should they learn?"). He kissed Millie's hand and flirted shamelessly. He often shared advice with Christopher that Christopher didn't understand for weeks or sometimes months afterward. Even Conrad was fond of Clow. Christopher would think they'd all been bewitched except that he was arrogantly positive that his staff would see through something like that. Or perhaps he was the only one who is immune...? But the last time he'd offered that theory to his wife, she'd smacked his shoulder and laughed so hard he thought she might be sick.
"You're just jealous, you big baby," she told him without sympathy, and thus was the Chrestomanci of the Related Worlds reduced to a fussy child. In order to hold onto his dignity, Christopher walked away from that conversation.
He found Clow in his private garden, which was Christopher's favorite place to think when out on the grounds. The mage was petting one of Throgmorten's scruffy descendants, apparently not caring that the dust on the ground was staining his dark robes, and that the cat was shedding onto his sleeves. The kitten was purring rustily at the attention. Christopher sighed. He could have no privacy here, even, when this man was visiting.
"You needn't worry," Clow said, not looking up from the cat, who was insisting on a nice scratch behind the ears. "I won't be visiting you much longer. I have my heir to prepare for, and I'm afraid it will take much of the time I have left."
Christopher did not reply immediately. He watched Clow's fingers scritch kitten fur and wondered a little. Millie had said jokingly when the magician arrived that he clearly needed a solid meal. It was hard to tell, but Christopher did think that Clow was skinnier under his volumnious robes. He wouldn't have thought it possible for Clow to be paler, but perhaps he was. It was hard for Christopher to judge, but perhaps those were new wrinkles around Clow's eyes.
He didn't bend down to scuff his pants or his shoes. "I don't worry," he said, trying to sound suave.
"You have a wonderful family, you know," Clow went on, half to himself. "Where I'm from, it's rather difficult for mages to maintain relationships and practice. I've never been particularly good at it, which is why I ended up making my family."
Christopher blinked. "Sometimes I'm almost jealous," Clow continued, and then he chuckled. He patted the cat on its rump and she stalked off, glaring occasionally over her shoulder so that Clow understood the offense in his sudden dismissal.
"I have my path, and you have yours," Clow said, getting to his feet and shaking out his outer robe, which shed dust and cat fur so easily that the laundry maids would have been jealous. He adjusted his glasses and said, "A cat is about to cross yours, by the way. They aren't all bad luck. Don't scare him off."
"...What?" Christopher was knocked off guard again.
"Mm, I think it might be time for dinner," Clow continued in a normal tone, as if their previous conservation hadn't occurred. "Shall we?"
He offered Christopher an arm. Christopher stared at it, eyes narrowed, until Clow grinned and returned the offending limb to his side.
"Come now, I think it's roast. We shouldn't miss that," he said, turning back towards the house and making his way out of the garden through an exit Christopher had never noticed. Christopher scrambled to follow.
When he and Millie were getting ready for bed, much later, he kissed her cheek and smiled at her.
"What was that for?" she asked him as she extracted hairpins from her hairdo. Her gaze was fond.
"Just because," Christopher answered, turning away to hang up his tie.
In the morning, he gave Clow a cheerful goodbye.
Fandom: Chrestomanci/Cardcaptor Sakura
Length: 956 words
Prompt: Chrestomanci/Cardcaptor Sakura crossover for
spellcoatsPairing: Clow and Christopher gen; minor Christopher/Millie
Other: n/a
Excerpt: Clow never remembered to announce his visits in advance, which was probably a good thing -- at least, in the eyes of everyone but Christopher.
Clow never remembered to announce his visits in advance, which was probably a good thing -- at least, in the eyes of everyone but Christopher. Christopher said it was rude, but he didn't protest too loudly, because Millie had swiftly discovered that any visit announced in advance was immediately met with excuses as to why this hour, this day, this year just wasn't a good time for socializing.
And that was because Christopher Chant, the Chrestomanci of the Related Worlds, was terribly jealous of Clow Reed, Master of the Clow ("Not one of my most inspired name choices, no, but some things make more sense when one is in one's cups than afterward," he'd said, with a wink and a chuckle, and of course Millie had laughed).
Clow had a certain air of untrustworthiness about him, in Christopher's opinion. He was British enough that his foreign customs always surprised Christopher when they surface. He was offendingly tall. He'd looked exactly the same age since Christopher met him, almost fifteen years ago now, and occasionally made oblique references suggesting that he was quite a bit older still. He insisted on traveling with a winged lion who ate too much and riled up the children, and a winged man whom Christopher could not charm at all (his expression often reminded Christopher of Gabriel at his most irritated and hawk-like). So Christopher thought that there were more than enough reasons to dislike him, and didn't understand why everyone else was so fond of the grandfatherly man.
He always bought presents for the children, sometimes not very safe ones ("How else should they learn?"). He kissed Millie's hand and flirted shamelessly. He often shared advice with Christopher that Christopher didn't understand for weeks or sometimes months afterward. Even Conrad was fond of Clow. Christopher would think they'd all been bewitched except that he was arrogantly positive that his staff would see through something like that. Or perhaps he was the only one who is immune...? But the last time he'd offered that theory to his wife, she'd smacked his shoulder and laughed so hard he thought she might be sick.
"You're just jealous, you big baby," she told him without sympathy, and thus was the Chrestomanci of the Related Worlds reduced to a fussy child. In order to hold onto his dignity, Christopher walked away from that conversation.
He found Clow in his private garden, which was Christopher's favorite place to think when out on the grounds. The mage was petting one of Throgmorten's scruffy descendants, apparently not caring that the dust on the ground was staining his dark robes, and that the cat was shedding onto his sleeves. The kitten was purring rustily at the attention. Christopher sighed. He could have no privacy here, even, when this man was visiting.
"You needn't worry," Clow said, not looking up from the cat, who was insisting on a nice scratch behind the ears. "I won't be visiting you much longer. I have my heir to prepare for, and I'm afraid it will take much of the time I have left."
Christopher did not reply immediately. He watched Clow's fingers scritch kitten fur and wondered a little. Millie had said jokingly when the magician arrived that he clearly needed a solid meal. It was hard to tell, but Christopher did think that Clow was skinnier under his volumnious robes. He wouldn't have thought it possible for Clow to be paler, but perhaps he was. It was hard for Christopher to judge, but perhaps those were new wrinkles around Clow's eyes.
He didn't bend down to scuff his pants or his shoes. "I don't worry," he said, trying to sound suave.
"You have a wonderful family, you know," Clow went on, half to himself. "Where I'm from, it's rather difficult for mages to maintain relationships and practice. I've never been particularly good at it, which is why I ended up making my family."
Christopher blinked. "Sometimes I'm almost jealous," Clow continued, and then he chuckled. He patted the cat on its rump and she stalked off, glaring occasionally over her shoulder so that Clow understood the offense in his sudden dismissal.
"I have my path, and you have yours," Clow said, getting to his feet and shaking out his outer robe, which shed dust and cat fur so easily that the laundry maids would have been jealous. He adjusted his glasses and said, "A cat is about to cross yours, by the way. They aren't all bad luck. Don't scare him off."
"...What?" Christopher was knocked off guard again.
"Mm, I think it might be time for dinner," Clow continued in a normal tone, as if their previous conservation hadn't occurred. "Shall we?"
He offered Christopher an arm. Christopher stared at it, eyes narrowed, until Clow grinned and returned the offending limb to his side.
"Come now, I think it's roast. We shouldn't miss that," he said, turning back towards the house and making his way out of the garden through an exit Christopher had never noticed. Christopher scrambled to follow.
When he and Millie were getting ready for bed, much later, he kissed her cheek and smiled at her.
"What was that for?" she asked him as she extracted hairpins from her hairdo. Her gaze was fond.
"Just because," Christopher answered, turning away to hang up his tie.
In the morning, he gave Clow a cheerful goodbye.