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kindkitHere, rather belatedly, is the next ficlet project installment.
Title: The Patrician's Servant
Fandom: Discworld
Characters: Drumknott (implied Drumknott/Vetinari)
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Character death, grieving.
Word count: 200
Summary: Some things are stronger than death. They're not necessarily the things you expect.
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ansketil_rose, who asked for Drumknott after Vetinari's death. This is set in the same universe as Midwinter but isn't necessarily "canonical" to it, if that makes sense. It's one way things might turn out.
Just outside the palace walls there's a memorial statue. People lay flowers there. They love Lord Vetinari now that he's dead.
In a distant corner of the palace gardens, there are three graves. Two are small, dog-sized. One is larger. One is old, one is newer, one is still hillocked, the soil not settled yet.
Every evening a man visits the graves. He places a dog biscuit each on the small ones. On the third grave, he places nothing, not even flowers. He sits beside it. He talks to it, now and then, with the rueful air of someone giving in to a mildly foolish temptation. Once he cried, ashamedly; if he's cried since, it wasn't here.
People are kind to him at the palace. They make sure he eats and rests and speaks occasionally to the living. But they keep out of his way when he comes back from his visits. It's a hard thing, a chill thing, to be looked through like ghosts by such a ghost-ridden creature.
They think he'll die soon. Even, kindly, hope so. But he works, and he lives. He has a job to do, a trust to keep, and he was always obedient.
ETA: The first commenter (who hasn't requested a ficlet in this round) can make a new ficlet request. Details are here on DW and here on LJ.
Title: The Patrician's Servant
Fandom: Discworld
Characters: Drumknott (implied Drumknott/Vetinari)
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Character death, grieving.
Word count: 200
Summary: Some things are stronger than death. They're not necessarily the things you expect.
Notes: Written for
ansketil_rose, who asked for Drumknott after Vetinari's death. This is set in the same universe as Midwinter but isn't necessarily "canonical" to it, if that makes sense. It's one way things might turn out.Just outside the palace walls there's a memorial statue. People lay flowers there. They love Lord Vetinari now that he's dead.
In a distant corner of the palace gardens, there are three graves. Two are small, dog-sized. One is larger. One is old, one is newer, one is still hillocked, the soil not settled yet.
Every evening a man visits the graves. He places a dog biscuit each on the small ones. On the third grave, he places nothing, not even flowers. He sits beside it. He talks to it, now and then, with the rueful air of someone giving in to a mildly foolish temptation. Once he cried, ashamedly; if he's cried since, it wasn't here.
People are kind to him at the palace. They make sure he eats and rests and speaks occasionally to the living. But they keep out of his way when he comes back from his visits. It's a hard thing, a chill thing, to be looked through like ghosts by such a ghost-ridden creature.
They think he'll die soon. Even, kindly, hope so. But he works, and he lives. He has a job to do, a trust to keep, and he was always obedient.
ETA: The first commenter (who hasn't requested a ficlet in this round) can make a new ficlet request. Details are here on DW and here on LJ.
