storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2015-01-27 11:59 am
storypaint) wrote2015-01-27 11:59 am
Entry tags:
[Discworld] a cup of good cheer (Death gen)
Title: a cup of good cheer
Fandom: Discworld
Length: 307 words
Prompt: I promised Christmas fic last year to someone. Uh. Christmas 2013, that is.
Pairing: Death and Albert gen
Other: n/a
Excerpt: There were even presents underneath it, although Albert had shaken them all carefully and realized that they were precisely-wrapped bricks. He'd cut his finger on a ribbon-end.
IT'S JUST NOT THE SAME, Death said. Albert snorted, and then again for good measure.
"Can't say I miss it," he answered. The two of them were in the den, or what passed for a den if you squinted a bit and ignored all the extra dimensions. The black fire crackled soundlessly in the hearth. Death was staring into it, fingers steepled over his lap. Albert was wearing the elf hat, a bit crooked, but he didn't seem enthusiastic about it. There was a little tree in the corner, or what Albert perceived as a corner, anyway, decorated with tiny round skulls. There were even presents underneath it, although Albert had shaken them all carefully and realized that they were precisely-wrapped bricks. He'd cut his finger on a ribbon-end.
"The pork pies were nice," Albert continued reflectively, "but there's something to be said for a nice Hogswatch Eve at home, I always say. A good spread and then a quiet evening, snow falling outside and you just enough warmer inside to be pleased."
IT DOES NOT SNOW HERE, Death said, almost managing to be wistful. THERE IS NO WEATHER.
"Still Hogswatch," Albert said, voice firm with conviction.
SQUEAK, the Death of Rats agreed from its comfortable place on the mantelpiece. It was wearing the one small splash of true color in the room. Death wondered where it had found a Hogfather hat so small. He didn't think that Albert would be so twee.
The room was silent, then. Albert was drifting off when Death clacked carefully to his feet.
LET'S GO CAROLING, he said.
"Susan said not to come," Albert reminded him. Death gave him one of his impenetrable stares.
NOT FOR HOGSWATCH EVE DINNER, OF COURSE. BUT WHO DOESN'T LIKE CAROLERS AFTERWARD? EVEN IF THEY DEMAND PUDDING.
Albert sighed, but he went to get his coat.
Fandom: Discworld
Length: 307 words
Prompt: I promised Christmas fic last year to someone. Uh. Christmas 2013, that is.
Pairing: Death and Albert gen
Other: n/a
Excerpt: There were even presents underneath it, although Albert had shaken them all carefully and realized that they were precisely-wrapped bricks. He'd cut his finger on a ribbon-end.
IT'S JUST NOT THE SAME, Death said. Albert snorted, and then again for good measure.
"Can't say I miss it," he answered. The two of them were in the den, or what passed for a den if you squinted a bit and ignored all the extra dimensions. The black fire crackled soundlessly in the hearth. Death was staring into it, fingers steepled over his lap. Albert was wearing the elf hat, a bit crooked, but he didn't seem enthusiastic about it. There was a little tree in the corner, or what Albert perceived as a corner, anyway, decorated with tiny round skulls. There were even presents underneath it, although Albert had shaken them all carefully and realized that they were precisely-wrapped bricks. He'd cut his finger on a ribbon-end.
"The pork pies were nice," Albert continued reflectively, "but there's something to be said for a nice Hogswatch Eve at home, I always say. A good spread and then a quiet evening, snow falling outside and you just enough warmer inside to be pleased."
IT DOES NOT SNOW HERE, Death said, almost managing to be wistful. THERE IS NO WEATHER.
"Still Hogswatch," Albert said, voice firm with conviction.
SQUEAK, the Death of Rats agreed from its comfortable place on the mantelpiece. It was wearing the one small splash of true color in the room. Death wondered where it had found a Hogfather hat so small. He didn't think that Albert would be so twee.
The room was silent, then. Albert was drifting off when Death clacked carefully to his feet.
LET'S GO CAROLING, he said.
"Susan said not to come," Albert reminded him. Death gave him one of his impenetrable stares.
NOT FOR HOGSWATCH EVE DINNER, OF COURSE. BUT WHO DOESN'T LIKE CAROLERS AFTERWARD? EVEN IF THEY DEMAND PUDDING.
Albert sighed, but he went to get his coat.