?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

fic: Dogs and Sorcerers

Title: Dogs and Sorcerers
Fandom: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV)
Length: 500
Rating: PG
Characters: Grant, Strange, Original Characters
Content notes: religious bigotry and homophobia
Author note: written for the Dog challenge at [community profile] fan_flashworks, this is part of You Can Be Had: Extras, and follows on from Loss and Change
Summary: Once a Mission General, always a Mission General




File under: things you don’t expect your own mother to say to you. Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city. For without are dogs, and sorcerers, and whoremongers, and murderers, and idolaters, and whosoever loveth and maketh a lie.

Once a Mission General, always a Mission General. She’d been grudgingly proud of him when he joined the ranks, though of course she wouldn’t say so. Pride is a sin, after all.

And now he’s shamed her in the sight of her fellow officers, brought disgrace on the name of Grant and on the Mission itself. Abandoned his calling for a life of sin with Jonathan Strange.

She won’t have him under her roof, she says. Since she’s living in the Save-A-Soul Mission Retirement Home, it’s not exactly her roof anyway, but it sounds more impressive than saying she won’t book him into the guest room. They have a brief and stony conversation in the Warden’s office, which is the furthest into the building he’s allowed to go, now that he’s an outcast and an apostate. There’s a moment where he thinks she might cry – from pure rage, he assumes – but it passes.

“You’re no longer my son,” she says, with that flat grey stare that used to scare him.

If only it were that simple.

Grant stays the night with Dougal McCann, who he hasn’t seen since school, but who takes him in anyway, offering him soup and oatcakes and whisky. He says no to the whisky, but he’s warmed by Dougal’s unexpected kindness, and by the feeling of being cared for, as much as by the soup and the blazing log fire.

He wakes in Dougal’s spare room, not knowing where he is or why, and has a moment of sheer panic at being adrift in the world, away from everything he’s known for the last eighteen years. There’s a text from Jonathan: Thinking of you. How’s it going? J xxx

Not great, he texts back. Miss you.

I miss you too, Jonathan responds. Wish you were here.

Here probably means bed; it’s still early, barely light this far north. He can’t let himself think about Jonathan in bed, about how much he’d like to be there with him.

Back soon, he texts. Just not yet.

It’s always a hiding to nothing, expecting his mother to change her mind, but Dougal said he’s welcome to stay a few days and he’ll give it that long, so he can say he tried. Then – he doesn’t know what then. Back to London, because he aches with missing Jonathan, even if he’s not ready to live with him. Maybe in a few months, when it’s clearer where this new thing between them is going, they can talk about that. For now, he waits outside the walls with all the other outcasts, with the dogs and the sorcerers, to see what happens next.




***

Title from Revelations 22 v. 15, King James Version




Also posted at http://fengirl88.dreamwidth.org/219526.html with comment count unavailable comments.

Comments

( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
brumeier
Jan. 23rd, 2017 03:04 pm (UTC)
Oh, poor Grant! He suspected his mother was going to take the news badly, but that doesn't make it any easier to bear. I'm glad he has someone nice to stay with in the interim, and Jonathan missing him back home.

You know his feelings are deep and true to put himself through all of this. I hope Jonathan understands what he's going through.

So many feels!
fengirl88
Jan. 25th, 2017 09:30 pm (UTC)
thank you, and yes indeed, poor Grant... *pets him*

I think Jonathan is beginning to understand, and he's going to be there for him. *nods*
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )

Profile

scallop voices
fengirl88
fengirl88



Tags




Powered by LiveJournal.com