Owl to Charles Macaulay

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

((Backdated to December 27th))



Charles,

I've got a Hogswatch Christmas present for you--would you like to meet up somewhere soon?

-Susan

Comments

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

He owled back, first, so she'd know he was on his way:

Susan,

Sure, I'll be over in two shakes of a lamb's tail. Actually I've got presents for you as well. I expect to be told all about Hogswatch, too.

Charles

That done, he took the time to shave and put on a fresh shirt before heading over to Susan's room. Christmas day had been an utter disaster, so Charles had spent the following day in something of a mess, and only today was coming back to himself. He could definitely use a distraction. A distraction that had nothing to do with Hampden or anyone who'd ever been within a hundred miles thereof, preferably. Susan's owl was rather welcome.

And he really did have presents for her. They were tucked under his arm, in boxes neatly wrapped with white paper, when he knocked at her door.

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

Susan let him in, smiling. She'd been quite content to spend Christmas day curled up with a book and a hot pot of tea; since her grandfather had popcorned, she had no family here anymore, but she didn't really mind. It gave her time to herself, and it was easy enough to get the house elves to bring her some tasty Christmas food.

"Hi," she said, shutting the door behind him. His own presents were ranged on her desk, also neatly wrapped, with a few of those clever stick-on bows on the top--every now and again Susan would find herself fascinated by the oddest things, and those little bows had been one of them. She'd had to resist the urge to cover the gifts in them. "It's good to see you survived the holidays." While she didn't actually know what he'd done on Christmas, it was safe to bet he'd had to spend it in the company of Henry Winter.

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

Yes, Charles had survived the holidays, in a manner of speaking. And if he'd hit the eggnog a little hard the day after Christmas, well, no one needed to know about that, especially not Camilla. Now he was back on the wagon and ready to drive it into the bright future ahead. There would just be a lot of potholes and ruts for the next long stretch of road, that was all.

"It was a holiday, all right," he said, setting down his presents next to hers (or was that the other way around?) and giving her a quick friendly hug before turning her desk chair about and taking a seat. "That I cannot deny. What else it was I'm sure I can't say," sounding eerily Camilla-like in that choice of words. "What's Hogswatch, anyway?"

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

Susan returned his hug, giving him a light squeeze before releasing him. "Sounds like my family holidays," she said. "Between Granddad and Albert, they're definitely...interesting, whatever else one might say about them."

She sat on her bed, cross-legged, her feet encased in a pair of black-and-white striped toe socks--she'd just recently discovered the things, and decided that whoever had invented them was a genius. "Hogswatch? It's the Discworld equivalent of Christmas, basically. Extremely similar, too--presents, eating until you're sick, etc. The Hogfather's much like your Father Christmas, except that, like most 'myths' on the Disc, he's a real person." She still hadn't fully gotten used to the idea that all the personifications people on Earth assigned to things did not, in fact, actually exist.

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

"Santa exists here too," Charles pointed out amiably. "I think he's a Hufflepuff. Don't see him around much, thankfully." He wasn't the kind of Santa that Charles would like to think brought his childhood toys, and also Charles didn't want the old lech within spitting distance of Camilla. "Why's yours called the Hogfather, though?"

God, it was nice to have a conversation without the constant subtext of mutual hatred. My every thought is bent upon your destruction. Could you pass the potatoes, please?

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

Susan hadn't known that. "Does he?" she asked. "Well, he's one of the only ones that does, then, so far as I know." She didn't know about the Easter Bunny, either, fortunately for everyone. "The Hogfather...he's the same jolly fat man as Father Christmas, but he's got the tusks of a boar, and instead of reindeer he uses flying pigs to pull his sleigh. A lot of the Disc operates on a pig-based economy--he had to evolve from a winter demi-god when society changed, and that was the form he took. Strange, strange man, even if I did only meet him for a little while." And for part of that time he'd been a very smelly, half-dead boar.

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

"A pig-based economy," repeated Charles. "That sounds like it could get a little messy." He tried to envision a St. Nicholas with boar's tusks, and failed miserably. "I guess he'd look a little like a red walrus, this Hogsfather. A walrus in a red suit, I mean."

He stretched out his legs comfortably. "So on Hogswatch do you give people just any kind of present, or only pig-based presents? Because I'm afraid I didn't bring you anything like that. I would have, if I'd known."

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

Susan laughed. "No, it's any kind of present, and cards. Again, rather like here. One year Granddad tried to make me a card, and was somewhat upset when the snow melted and the robin he'd tried to stick to the pasteboard wouldn't stay put." She still had it somewhere. "I promise, I didn't get you anything pig-based, either," she added, with a smile that was almost impish.

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

"We used to make our own Christmas cards as kids. One time Camilla tried to glue a whole pinecone to one of hers and was furious when Nana told us that wouldn't fit in the mail. Your grandfather might have been right at home with us," said Charles lightly. In truth the idea of a Christmas -- okay, Hogswatch -- with DEATH hardly appealed, but he didn't want Susan to feel abnormal. He suspected she'd had quite enough of feeling abnormal, over the years.

"I'm dying of suspense," he announced. "You'd better open these before I perish of not knowing whether you'll like 'em or not." And without further ceremony, picked up the boxes he'd brought, holding them out for unwrapping: her presents (http://charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com/775.html).

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

Susan really had had enough of feeling abnormal--one of the things she really liked about Charles was that he seemed to just take all the weirdness of her life in stride.

She could definitely picture Camilla very seriously trying to glue a pine cone to a card, too, and it made her laugh. "All right," she said. "But you've got to open yours, too." Susan was the first to admit she was terrible at picking out gifts, but he'd admired her tea jars once, so she'd picked up (http://www.drgoodstuffsgiftemporium.com/image_manager/attributes/image/image_2/40032893_8624772.jpg) some antique jars and filled them with all different kinds of tea. They really did look almost like potpourri, and smelled nice, too.

The little perfumes both surprised and pleased her--she remembered what he'd said (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1504301.html?thread=76251437#t76251437) about her needing a happier perfume. They made her smile, and if the box of nougats turned her smile a little dry, it probably wasn't noticeable. She could appreciate the thought behind them, even if she couldn't appreciate the nougat itself.

"Thank you," she said, and meant it. She eyed the little bottles, wondering which one to put on--they all smelled lovely, and were indeed much happier than her lavender-and-smoke perfume. The one labeled SUDHA SEGARA seemed most appropriate to her current mood, so she dabbed a little on her wrists and her neck, enjoying the warm blend of honey and ginger.

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

Charles unwrapped his presents as instructed, and uncapped one of the jars to sniff the contents. "Orange pekoe," he said, pleased. "That's wonderful, it really is." Another: "Jasmine tea. Something with jasmine, anyway." Then he picked up a third and found that there was a label on the bottom saying what was inside. He laughed at himself: "Of course you wouldn't expect me to guess what each one is." He'd line them up on the bare shelf in his room, and it would be that much more homelike. A reminder that someone gave a damn about him.

He set down the last jar and watched Susan dabbling in the little vials he'd ordered. "Friend of mine used to swear by that stuff. A girl I used to know in Texas." A bartender who moonlighted as a stripper, but Susan didn't need to know that, as she might pass it along to Camilla. "She had a whole lot of them and it seemed to fit your aesthetic a little better. She even had purple hair," he teased. Teasing Susan about the purple hair would never get old.

With the blithe assumption that everyone else liked what he liked, Charles didn't register that perhaps the nougats met with a less warm reception.

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

That made her laugh again. She really wasn't ever going to live down the purple hair, but she didn't mind when Charles teased her about it. She might thwack Shaun, but poor Shaun was...well, Shaun; something about him seemed to say 'abuse me'. She'd gotten him some fancy polish for his cricket bat for Christmas, since it seemed like an extremely appropriate gift.

"I like them," she said. "I never used to wear perfume, back home--didn't for a long time here, too. Then again, the fashion back home has always tended toward the heavy floral scents--the kind that smell like an old lady's parlor." Texas, huh? One of these days she really did need to look at a proper map of this America place, so she'd know just where he was referring to. "I hope I got the right sort of teas--I had to guess a bit." Much like Charles, though, Susan tended to assume people liked what she did--at least, certain people.

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

"Well, if you don't like these, there's hundreds more to choose from. Those are just the ones that reminded me of you, off the top of my head. By description, I mean, because you have to mail-order them from America." He really wondered what Susan would make of the US if she ever happened to get there. He knew she was from the Disc, some impossible magic place on the backs of elephants, but something about her just seemed so indomitably British.

"Any kind of tea is good," he said cheerfully. "And you know I love orange pekoe. Besides, they're pretty, like yours. Goodness knows my room could use a little brightening up." That was part of the plan too. Make his room someplace bright, where Camilla would actually like to be.

"You know, my friend used to say those perfumes change a little after they've been on a while. If you don't like it when you first put it on, you give it a minute and it might change. She used to put them on everywhere." Remembering the girl dabbing the wand cap at her wrists, behind her ears, between her breasts. He left the tea where it was, left the chair, crossed the room to sniff Susan's scented throat. Honey and ginger, soft and warm.

"That's happier," he murmured.

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

Susan had reflected before how very like Ankh-Morpork Britain was in some ways--right down to the accents, really. Then again, there were all sorts of really weird similarities between the Discworld and here, despite the fact that in most ways the worlds were very, very different.

Brightening up his room a little had been part of her plan. Susan was no interior decorator, but her room had a certain coziness about it--a coziness made up of old books, fat armchairs, oil lamps, and a few little knick-knacks like her tea jars. Charles's quilt was a good start, and the jars matched it nicely--slowly but surely, maybe she could sneak in a bit more.

She couldn't help but laugh when he came over to sniff her. "Much happier," she agreed, grinning at him. "I think you may have hooked me on these." She sniffed her own wrist, wondering why she hadn't discovered this stuff before now. "Would you like me to make some of that tea? I've still got some orange pekoe myself."

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

So Charles made tea, quite at home; quite aware that Susan was likely to tell his sister what he'd gotten her, and looking forward to the fallout; much less aware of Susan's Other Friends, or what they might think, or do.