![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
While I'm seeing about getting voices down.
Title: A Hedge, A Coat, And Thou
Rating: Gen
Fandom: Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell (TV)
Characters/Pairings: Vinculus, John Childermass. Mildly Vinculus/Childermass
Summary: Vinculus and Childermass are abroad in Yorkshire on a rainswept night, and end up huddling under a hedge for warmth. Childermass grumpily offers to share his coat, and Vinculus is more than happy to accept
Wordcount: 1319
Warnings/Notes: Rain, huddling for warmth, grumpiness, late night conversations, mild flirting
Disclaimer: Not mine
Title: A Hedge, A Coat, And Thou
Rating: Gen
Fandom: Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell (TV)
Characters/Pairings: Vinculus, John Childermass. Mildly Vinculus/Childermass
Summary: Vinculus and Childermass are abroad in Yorkshire on a rainswept night, and end up huddling under a hedge for warmth. Childermass grumpily offers to share his coat, and Vinculus is more than happy to accept
Wordcount: 1319
Warnings/Notes: Rain, huddling for warmth, grumpiness, late night conversations, mild flirting
Disclaimer: Not mine
A Hedge, A Coat, And Thou
It was colder under hedges than it used to be. Well, he was older now. There was a time Vinculus could have slept through rain, snow or shine, so long as he had a bit of blackthorn over his head, and maybe a jar of something spirit-like in his hand. It'd been years, though, and while he was eating better than ever these days, thanks to his new companion, he was still a bit too skinny for an autumn night in Yorkshire. Nights like these, when the sky came and fell on you, it felt like all he was made of were frozen bones and his oh so valuable skin.
Of course his companion in this little nighttime huddle of theirs was not quite so unlucky. He was younger, that stood to him, and perhaps more importantly he had a lovely thick coat to bundle up in. Kept the rain off and the cold out a treat, Vinculus was sure. Must be a real lovely thing, to have a coat like that.
"Oh for god's sake," Childermass growled. "Get over here before you freeze to death, will you? I can hear your teeth chattering from here."
Vinculus raised his head at that. He'd have sworn he wasn't speaking out loud, there, though it could be hard to tell sometimes. He squinted over at the man. Childermass could be hard to spot at the best of times, even leaving aside any question of magic and shadows. He had this way of being still that made you mostly forget he existed. Lying under a hedge, in the dark and the rain, he was little more than a blur. Vinculus could just about make him out, though. He could just see the arm raised in the shadow of the branches, and the space beneath it that might about fit one skinny vagabond, if said vagabond were inclined to take advantage of it.
It was a friendly offer, to be sure. It was also more than a little unexpected, since Vinculus had been under the impression that Childermass was not much inclined for physical contact. Not intimate-like, anyway. The aura of suppressed foreboding sort of lent to that impression.
"Sure about that?" he asked, with only a little touch of a leer, just for warning's sake. It wasn't that he planned to take advantage, not of anything more than the warmth, but he did want to make sure the man knew what he was offering. Vinculus wasn't particularly inclined to freeze for decency's sake, but he didn't like to push a man who didn't want to be pushed either.
Childermass only snorted. "If you're as cold as it sounds like you are, I somehow doubt you'll be up to much. I think I'll be safe enough. Now are you going to get in here, or am I letting the rain in for my own amusement?"
Vinculus grinned, in maybe a mildly rictus-like fashion, since he truly was damned cold. He meant it happily, though. "I wouldn't know what would amuse you, my friend," he said, and shimmied over before the man could answer to wriggle into the warm, only slightly damp space beneath Childermass' arm. The man's coat fell down across his shoulder like a blessing from on high, a warm chest braced his back, and Vinculus let out such a groan of satisfaction that it might have given Childermass cause to doubt his previous assertion of safety.
To his credit, the man never flinched. The opposite, even. Childermass tugged him more securely back against him, pulling Vinculus' legs in under his own and curling around him until they were as small and secure a ball of coat and bones as you might ever see. Vinculus approved of that, and said so quite fervently. Childermass chuckled. Vinculus felt it in the chest behind him, right through his own little scrap of a coat, and found it pleasing.
"You are a saint, sir," he repeated, while busily burrowing his hands under his armpits and absently wondering if he could somehow work his feet into Childermass' boots instead of his own, the better for them to keep company with their warmer counterparts. "Let no man or fairy tell you different. Finest man upon this earth."
"Let's not go overboard," Childermass murmured, in some amusement. His nose had ended up against the back of Vinculus' neck, both their heads tucked low beneath the collar of the coat. His breath stirred the hairs on the back of Vinculus' neck, and that was a pleasing thing too. "Sharing a coat in a ditch is not most people's idea of a heroic deed."
Vinculus shrugged at that, feeling the ache of it in the wings of his shoulder blades, where the cold had set in. "To the man that's freezing to death, it's the one that matters," he noted mildly, and Childermass seemed to curl more closely around him in answer, a stir of his magic making their little ball warmer and just that little drier as well. There was a protective streak in there, Vinculus thought, hidden beneath the great coat and the cutting looks. There was a certain warmth to the man that was more than just his body heat.
"You need a better coat of your own," was his answer, though, as gruff and practical as ever. "We'll work on that. You might try keeping one, instead of drinking it away."
"Family tradition," Vinculus mumbled, somewhat sleepily. The combination of sudden warmth and the strength of a body around him had had much the same effect on him as would that jar of something spirit-like that they'd forgotten to bring. He was beginning to fade pleasantly, nicely coddled in Childermass' arms, and wasn't at all inclined to complain about it. "Drink away everything important, we do. 'Cept maybe the future. Managed to keep that, more or less." He yawned. "More by luck than judgement, maybe."
"... Bit more than luck, I think," Childermass said quietly, and Vinculus nearly stirred in surprise. He wormed his head around to catch a glimpse of the man's shadowed face, blinking up at him in some curiosity. Childermass stared back, with that set to his eyebrows that dared anyone to challenge him. Oh, he was a fine thing. An amusement to warm the cockles of your heart, and maybe more than that as well.
"I have to say," Vinculus said slowly, his leer having returned to him somewhat. "I am feeling very warmed right now, my friend. In more ways than one. A man ought to be careful, handing out warmth like that. People might get attached to him."
Childermass blinked slowly for a second. Not quite confused, Vinculus thought. Sceptical, rather, and distantly perturbed. He didn't let it affect him long. He dipped his head once more, very clearly ending any conversation, and brought his nose back to the now-warm space at the nape of Vinculus' neck, letting Vinculus sort himself out as he pleased.
"That's never been a problem before," the man said quietly. "Now be quiet, will you, and go to sleep. At least one of us has to be awake in the morning, and if it's me I'll not be inclined to carry you around. Fair warning."
Fair warning indeed. But all right, Vinculus thought, turning to look ahead of them once more, out into the rain and the darkness. That was all right. Let the man be practical. There was no need to push just yet. And for the moment, at least, there was warmth and comfort to be enjoyed, all by their lonesome, and not so poor a gift as all that.
He burrowed down beneath another man's coat, held safe and warm inside another man's arms, and found himself not at all dissatisfied.
It was the little things in life, after all. A hedge, a coat, a friend. Such were the joys of life.
It was colder under hedges than it used to be. Well, he was older now. There was a time Vinculus could have slept through rain, snow or shine, so long as he had a bit of blackthorn over his head, and maybe a jar of something spirit-like in his hand. It'd been years, though, and while he was eating better than ever these days, thanks to his new companion, he was still a bit too skinny for an autumn night in Yorkshire. Nights like these, when the sky came and fell on you, it felt like all he was made of were frozen bones and his oh so valuable skin.
Of course his companion in this little nighttime huddle of theirs was not quite so unlucky. He was younger, that stood to him, and perhaps more importantly he had a lovely thick coat to bundle up in. Kept the rain off and the cold out a treat, Vinculus was sure. Must be a real lovely thing, to have a coat like that.
"Oh for god's sake," Childermass growled. "Get over here before you freeze to death, will you? I can hear your teeth chattering from here."
Vinculus raised his head at that. He'd have sworn he wasn't speaking out loud, there, though it could be hard to tell sometimes. He squinted over at the man. Childermass could be hard to spot at the best of times, even leaving aside any question of magic and shadows. He had this way of being still that made you mostly forget he existed. Lying under a hedge, in the dark and the rain, he was little more than a blur. Vinculus could just about make him out, though. He could just see the arm raised in the shadow of the branches, and the space beneath it that might about fit one skinny vagabond, if said vagabond were inclined to take advantage of it.
It was a friendly offer, to be sure. It was also more than a little unexpected, since Vinculus had been under the impression that Childermass was not much inclined for physical contact. Not intimate-like, anyway. The aura of suppressed foreboding sort of lent to that impression.
"Sure about that?" he asked, with only a little touch of a leer, just for warning's sake. It wasn't that he planned to take advantage, not of anything more than the warmth, but he did want to make sure the man knew what he was offering. Vinculus wasn't particularly inclined to freeze for decency's sake, but he didn't like to push a man who didn't want to be pushed either.
Childermass only snorted. "If you're as cold as it sounds like you are, I somehow doubt you'll be up to much. I think I'll be safe enough. Now are you going to get in here, or am I letting the rain in for my own amusement?"
Vinculus grinned, in maybe a mildly rictus-like fashion, since he truly was damned cold. He meant it happily, though. "I wouldn't know what would amuse you, my friend," he said, and shimmied over before the man could answer to wriggle into the warm, only slightly damp space beneath Childermass' arm. The man's coat fell down across his shoulder like a blessing from on high, a warm chest braced his back, and Vinculus let out such a groan of satisfaction that it might have given Childermass cause to doubt his previous assertion of safety.
To his credit, the man never flinched. The opposite, even. Childermass tugged him more securely back against him, pulling Vinculus' legs in under his own and curling around him until they were as small and secure a ball of coat and bones as you might ever see. Vinculus approved of that, and said so quite fervently. Childermass chuckled. Vinculus felt it in the chest behind him, right through his own little scrap of a coat, and found it pleasing.
"You are a saint, sir," he repeated, while busily burrowing his hands under his armpits and absently wondering if he could somehow work his feet into Childermass' boots instead of his own, the better for them to keep company with their warmer counterparts. "Let no man or fairy tell you different. Finest man upon this earth."
"Let's not go overboard," Childermass murmured, in some amusement. His nose had ended up against the back of Vinculus' neck, both their heads tucked low beneath the collar of the coat. His breath stirred the hairs on the back of Vinculus' neck, and that was a pleasing thing too. "Sharing a coat in a ditch is not most people's idea of a heroic deed."
Vinculus shrugged at that, feeling the ache of it in the wings of his shoulder blades, where the cold had set in. "To the man that's freezing to death, it's the one that matters," he noted mildly, and Childermass seemed to curl more closely around him in answer, a stir of his magic making their little ball warmer and just that little drier as well. There was a protective streak in there, Vinculus thought, hidden beneath the great coat and the cutting looks. There was a certain warmth to the man that was more than just his body heat.
"You need a better coat of your own," was his answer, though, as gruff and practical as ever. "We'll work on that. You might try keeping one, instead of drinking it away."
"Family tradition," Vinculus mumbled, somewhat sleepily. The combination of sudden warmth and the strength of a body around him had had much the same effect on him as would that jar of something spirit-like that they'd forgotten to bring. He was beginning to fade pleasantly, nicely coddled in Childermass' arms, and wasn't at all inclined to complain about it. "Drink away everything important, we do. 'Cept maybe the future. Managed to keep that, more or less." He yawned. "More by luck than judgement, maybe."
"... Bit more than luck, I think," Childermass said quietly, and Vinculus nearly stirred in surprise. He wormed his head around to catch a glimpse of the man's shadowed face, blinking up at him in some curiosity. Childermass stared back, with that set to his eyebrows that dared anyone to challenge him. Oh, he was a fine thing. An amusement to warm the cockles of your heart, and maybe more than that as well.
"I have to say," Vinculus said slowly, his leer having returned to him somewhat. "I am feeling very warmed right now, my friend. In more ways than one. A man ought to be careful, handing out warmth like that. People might get attached to him."
Childermass blinked slowly for a second. Not quite confused, Vinculus thought. Sceptical, rather, and distantly perturbed. He didn't let it affect him long. He dipped his head once more, very clearly ending any conversation, and brought his nose back to the now-warm space at the nape of Vinculus' neck, letting Vinculus sort himself out as he pleased.
"That's never been a problem before," the man said quietly. "Now be quiet, will you, and go to sleep. At least one of us has to be awake in the morning, and if it's me I'll not be inclined to carry you around. Fair warning."
Fair warning indeed. But all right, Vinculus thought, turning to look ahead of them once more, out into the rain and the darkness. That was all right. Let the man be practical. There was no need to push just yet. And for the moment, at least, there was warmth and comfort to be enjoyed, all by their lonesome, and not so poor a gift as all that.
He burrowed down beneath another man's coat, held safe and warm inside another man's arms, and found himself not at all dissatisfied.
It was the little things in life, after all. A hedge, a coat, a friend. Such were the joys of life.
