FIC: Bury My Lovely - Chapter 2
Title: Bury My Lovely
Rating: NC-17 (over all story)
Fandom: Hogfather
Category: Angst, Romance
Pairing: Susan Sto Helit/Jonathan Teatime
Summary: "She told him to stay away and revelled in it when he came back. She told him she didn't want him and loved it when he proved her wrong. She wanted to hate him and hated herself for not being able to manage it."
Feedback: Do I have to beg?
Thanks All the thanks in the world go to Ariadne, one of the world's best beta readers, for all her help, thoughts, and suggestions.
Bury My Lovely: Chapter 1
Bury My Lovely
Chapter 2
Once upon a time there was light in my life
But now there's only love in the dark
Nothing I can say...
- 'Total Eclipse of the Heart’ by Bonnie Tyler
"I fulfilled a lucrative contract this week," Jonathan said sleepily, snuggling up to her with childlike unselfconsciousness, as though she were an oversized teddy bear.
Inwardly, Susan groaned. And here she’d thought the evening couldn’t get any worse.
Jonathan had shown up in time for a cup of tea before bed. She loathed it when he did that. There was something about it that was… well, it was almost as if it were somehow more intimate than sex. It was… domestic, for lack of a better word. He’d even brought her favourite chocolate biscuits with him, the git. Then he had insisted they sit in the parlour for a bit. Even worse, he’d made the tea, brought it out on the tray with the biscuits, made up the tea for both of them (having made a point ages ago of finding out exactly how Susan liked her tea), and had then pulled her onto his lap in one of the oversized comfy chairs Susan felt necessary for any house. She’d tried to get back up again, but he’d just settled her down again and proceeded to ask all about her day at work, the students, the other teachers, and so on. What was even more unforgivable was that he paid attention to the answers he eventually extracted as though he actually cared.
This, Susan often felt, was the most injurious thing about Jonathan as far as her peace of mind went. If it was just lust… well, it would be easier somehow. But he genuinely seemed to find her, Susan, fascinating. He seemed to find her opinions intriguing and never seemed to tire of asking her why she handled a situation one way instead of another. No one, not even Lobsang had found what she had to say this engrossing and he’d become a trusted friend as much as he’d been anything else.
The absolute worst of it all, though, was yet to come. Jonathan had insisted on making the tea himself because he said that Susan looked tired. It was an understatement, she knew. Susan was exhausted. It had just been one of those weeks. If it could go wrong, it had gone wrong, and for reasons she couldn’t explain her usually even temper had more or less abandoned her. She honestly wasn’t sure if the children were acting up more, the other teachers were being more unreasonable, and the parents more stupid than usual or if her patience had simply been worn too thin by dealing with it all for too long. So, yes - she was tired. She was worn out and the last thing on her mind was getting into bed for any reason other than sleep. And, damn him, Jonathan realized this.
He hadn’t even tried anything untoward. He’d told her to go get ready for bed while he cleaned up the tea things. It was a testament to her exhaustion that she’d done so without comment. He’d come up with a small shot of Bearhugger’s finest whisky she always kept on hand - for medical emergencies only, of course. She’d argued about it, but in the end had drunk it because frankly, after the week she’d had a drink sounded good. Jonathan had stripped down to his shirtsleeves and drawers before slipping into bed with her.
And that was that. Susan was tired, clearly too tired to enjoy anything… energetic. So, Jonathan had seen to it that she had some tea, a nightcap, had blown out the candle, and was now snuggling down next to her as though they were… were… Well, bugger it, as though they were a real couple. She hated it when he did this, acted all considerate.
The evening, she decided, could not get worse.
Susan really should have known better.
Whenever Jonathan discussed one his contracts it meant something in particular was on his mind. Something that Susan did not want to talk about. It made her too uncomfortable in too many ways.
"I can't tell you any of the details, of course," Jonathan went on blithely. "It's against Guild Rules," the capitals firmly in place. "However, it went very well, I think."
Susan refrained from saying he didn't have to tell her any details since she, along with the rest of Ankh-Morpork, already knew them. Oh, the Guild would never stoop to divulging the name of the Assassin involved in any particular contract but with Jonathan they didn't have to. His style was somewhat… distinctive. No other Assassin would leave bits of the client's entrails hanging from a chandelier, for instance.
Susan was fairly sure that the Guild would be less than upset if anything untoward were to happen to Jonathan. On the other hand, and much to the Guild's dismay, he'd gained something of a name for himself. People were actually approaching the Guild asking for him in particular. This was something that was new and more than a bit unsettling to the council. But when someone had a particular grudge and wanted to make sure that their enemy was 'inhumed with extreme impoliteness', they asked for Teatime. Well, actually, they asked for Tea-time which always annoyed Jonathan who took personal exception to the constant and universal mispronunciation of his name. But he took the contracts nonetheless. He had plans.
How did you inhume someone politely, Susan wondered idly. Could there ever be a proper way of murdering a person? The Guild seemed to think so but Susan had seen too many people die and there were certainly some things that could never be polite and proper, in her opinion.
"The point is that no one else wanted this particular contract because of the guards,” he went on. “But I managed it with all the due elegance the Guild required." This, Susan knew, meant that he hadn't killed any innocent bystanders, pets, or miscellaneous people along the way. "The guards even survived," he added with some pride. They'd never walk again, or so the rumour mill said, but it was true that they were still breathing. It was these little steps that mattered; mutilate without tearing them to pieces. Sad to think that with Jonathan, that was progress.
"You could say congratulations, you know," he said reproachfully as Susan remained silent.
"Someone is dead," she said stiffly. "You know how I feel about that."
Jonathan sighed. "You get on well enough with your grandfather and you don't mind what he does."
Leave it to be Jonathan alone among her entirely human suitors to take her family history seriously.
"Grandfather collects souls after they have died. He does not kill them." Usually, she added mentally. This was a distinction she'd had to make more than once with Jonathan, but he seemed honestly incapable of seeing the difference. Thank the gods he didn't know that she'd once had to take up the scythe herself. She'd never told him because not because she thought it would bother him - and damnit it should bother him! - but because Jonathan would see The Duty as no different than assassination and that was infinitely worse.
"Well, all right. If you insist," he said, not pleased but clearly willing to allow Susan her little foible. She decided that she didn't have the energy to smack him. "The point is that the contract was very lucrative. If I can manage a few more like that I may be able to be released from my obligations as soon as next year. Isn't that wonderful?"
"Lovely," she said, trying to make her voice sound drowsy and purposefully slowing and deepening her breathing to make it sound as if she were falling asleep.
Jonathan had been a guild orphan, taken in after the deaths of his parents when he was very young - a subject Susan had carefully never brought up, convinced that there were things she didn't ever want to know. All the guilds took in a few orphans every year. The system wasn't perfect but still, it gave homes and trades to children who would have otherwise been left on the streets. It wasn't simply charity though. The guild fed, clothed, and educated their orphans which meant an outlay of money that needed to be paid back.
Each guild had its own rules regarding the obligations of their orphans once they reached adulthood. The Assassin's Guild, in particular, required that their orphans live within the Guild House and work only on Guild contracts for the first few years after their graduation to full guild membership to pay off their debt. It usually didn’t take more than a year or two and, unless they had a particular reason to leave, many stayed on long after this taking the opportunity to build up nice little nest eggs for themselves. After all, the Guild was a society of gentlemen which meant rather nice suits of rooms for its graduates, decent meals, and all house cleaning and laundry done free.
One of the consequences of the Assassin’s Guild Rules, though, was that until they had fulfilled their obligations those like Jonathan could not marry and set up their own households without the express permission of the Guild Council. Permission someone like Jonathan was very unlikely to receive.
Since repayment was usually a fairly swift process this shouldn’t have mattered, but even a year after his graduation the Council had, thus far, been refusing to give Jonathan any idea of when he'd be released. Susan suspected that they were fearful of what he might do without restraints placed upon him. A sentiment she could well understand and most heartily shared.
"It is lovely," he said, not hearing or ignoring her attempt to sound sleepy. He pressed a kiss on her temple. "We could be married then," he said softly.
Susan said nothing and hopped to hell that her faked sleep would be taken for actual sleep. She never knew what to say at times like these. She'd never intended to marry and even if she had she wouldn't have wanted to marry someone like Jonathan. It wasn’t just out of the question, it was truly insane. So far, she'd managed to avoid the subject whenever he brought it up, but he was nothing if not persistent. It seemed impossible to make him understand that whatever this thing was that existed between them, it wasn't love. The fact that it had lasted nearly a year didn't mean anything. It probably wouldn't last much longer; at least she hoped it wouldn't. Even if it did last as long as another year it certainly wouldn't last the rest of their lives. Gods, what a horrifying thought that was!
And what would Grandfather say? Inwardly, she shuddered not even wanting to think about that.
"You do want to get married, don't you Susan?"
She continued to remain silent but her feigned sleep apparently didn't fool him.
"Susan?" he asked again when she didn't answer.
Finally, she sighed. "I don't... I've never intended to marry. Ever. To anyone."
"Why ever not?" He sounded genuinely surprised and that sparked her temper in spite of herself.
How often had Susan been faced with the assumption that all that she’d worked for over the last several years was nothing but a game, a diversion to pass the time? How many times had she faced the assumption that all this about her carrier and her independence meant nothing? She was a lady after all, and therefore no matter how hard she worked or how independent she became she was just playing until the right man came along to marry her. It had become something of a sore spot for Susan.
"Not all women think of nothing but husbands and setting up house," she snapped.
It was Jonathan's turn to sigh, sounding slightly exasperated. "I know that. There are women in the Guild you know and some of them are the best we have. Besides, it's not like I'd expect you to give up your job or anything silly like that. I just want us to be married. Then we can have a house of our own and wake up together every morning and... Well, maybe we can even have children someday. Doesn't that sound nice?"
Susan felt twinges both of guilt and of horror. She knew Jonathan better than to assume he thought no more of her career than most of the men she knew. If he had one thing in his favour it was that he honestly didn’t see that much difference between men and women. It didn’t help, though, to remember that for the most part they were all just objects to him. The horror, however, was rather stronger. Susan suppressed a shudder. No, what he described did not sound nice. Just the thought of what kind of a child she and Jonathan might produce together scared the hell out of her.
"I don't want to marry." Susan kept her voice utterly steady. "The reasons are complicated and they have nothing to do with you. I will not marry. Anyone."
She heard him draw in a breath to speak again, no doubt to ask for an explanation, and interrupted him before he could.
"Please, Jonathan. It's complicated and I'm tired. Can we not discuss it tonight?"
Can we not ever discuss it at all ever, ever, ever?
There was a pause before he answered. Then he pressed a kiss to her temple. "Of course, Susan. Good night."
Susan lay still, staring into the dark with Jonathan's soft breath tickling her neck. It would be too much to hope that he'd drop the subject. The thought of marrying him was... well, it was utterly ludicrous. Only someone as crazy as he was could have thought it was anything else. But how to make him understand that?
Despite her exhaustion, it was some time before she slept.
Rating: NC-17 (over all story)
Fandom: Hogfather
Category: Angst, Romance
Pairing: Susan Sto Helit/Jonathan Teatime
Summary: "She told him to stay away and revelled in it when he came back. She told him she didn't want him and loved it when he proved her wrong. She wanted to hate him and hated herself for not being able to manage it."
Feedback: Do I have to beg?
Thanks All the thanks in the world go to Ariadne, one of the world's best beta readers, for all her help, thoughts, and suggestions.
Bury My Lovely: Chapter 1
Bury My Lovely
Chapter 2
Once upon a time there was light in my life
But now there's only love in the dark
Nothing I can say...
- 'Total Eclipse of the Heart’ by Bonnie Tyler
"I fulfilled a lucrative contract this week," Jonathan said sleepily, snuggling up to her with childlike unselfconsciousness, as though she were an oversized teddy bear.
Inwardly, Susan groaned. And here she’d thought the evening couldn’t get any worse.
Jonathan had shown up in time for a cup of tea before bed. She loathed it when he did that. There was something about it that was… well, it was almost as if it were somehow more intimate than sex. It was… domestic, for lack of a better word. He’d even brought her favourite chocolate biscuits with him, the git. Then he had insisted they sit in the parlour for a bit. Even worse, he’d made the tea, brought it out on the tray with the biscuits, made up the tea for both of them (having made a point ages ago of finding out exactly how Susan liked her tea), and had then pulled her onto his lap in one of the oversized comfy chairs Susan felt necessary for any house. She’d tried to get back up again, but he’d just settled her down again and proceeded to ask all about her day at work, the students, the other teachers, and so on. What was even more unforgivable was that he paid attention to the answers he eventually extracted as though he actually cared.
This, Susan often felt, was the most injurious thing about Jonathan as far as her peace of mind went. If it was just lust… well, it would be easier somehow. But he genuinely seemed to find her, Susan, fascinating. He seemed to find her opinions intriguing and never seemed to tire of asking her why she handled a situation one way instead of another. No one, not even Lobsang had found what she had to say this engrossing and he’d become a trusted friend as much as he’d been anything else.
The absolute worst of it all, though, was yet to come. Jonathan had insisted on making the tea himself because he said that Susan looked tired. It was an understatement, she knew. Susan was exhausted. It had just been one of those weeks. If it could go wrong, it had gone wrong, and for reasons she couldn’t explain her usually even temper had more or less abandoned her. She honestly wasn’t sure if the children were acting up more, the other teachers were being more unreasonable, and the parents more stupid than usual or if her patience had simply been worn too thin by dealing with it all for too long. So, yes - she was tired. She was worn out and the last thing on her mind was getting into bed for any reason other than sleep. And, damn him, Jonathan realized this.
He hadn’t even tried anything untoward. He’d told her to go get ready for bed while he cleaned up the tea things. It was a testament to her exhaustion that she’d done so without comment. He’d come up with a small shot of Bearhugger’s finest whisky she always kept on hand - for medical emergencies only, of course. She’d argued about it, but in the end had drunk it because frankly, after the week she’d had a drink sounded good. Jonathan had stripped down to his shirtsleeves and drawers before slipping into bed with her.
And that was that. Susan was tired, clearly too tired to enjoy anything… energetic. So, Jonathan had seen to it that she had some tea, a nightcap, had blown out the candle, and was now snuggling down next to her as though they were… were… Well, bugger it, as though they were a real couple. She hated it when he did this, acted all considerate.
The evening, she decided, could not get worse.
Susan really should have known better.
Whenever Jonathan discussed one his contracts it meant something in particular was on his mind. Something that Susan did not want to talk about. It made her too uncomfortable in too many ways.
"I can't tell you any of the details, of course," Jonathan went on blithely. "It's against Guild Rules," the capitals firmly in place. "However, it went very well, I think."
Susan refrained from saying he didn't have to tell her any details since she, along with the rest of Ankh-Morpork, already knew them. Oh, the Guild would never stoop to divulging the name of the Assassin involved in any particular contract but with Jonathan they didn't have to. His style was somewhat… distinctive. No other Assassin would leave bits of the client's entrails hanging from a chandelier, for instance.
Susan was fairly sure that the Guild would be less than upset if anything untoward were to happen to Jonathan. On the other hand, and much to the Guild's dismay, he'd gained something of a name for himself. People were actually approaching the Guild asking for him in particular. This was something that was new and more than a bit unsettling to the council. But when someone had a particular grudge and wanted to make sure that their enemy was 'inhumed with extreme impoliteness', they asked for Teatime. Well, actually, they asked for Tea-time which always annoyed Jonathan who took personal exception to the constant and universal mispronunciation of his name. But he took the contracts nonetheless. He had plans.
How did you inhume someone politely, Susan wondered idly. Could there ever be a proper way of murdering a person? The Guild seemed to think so but Susan had seen too many people die and there were certainly some things that could never be polite and proper, in her opinion.
"The point is that no one else wanted this particular contract because of the guards,” he went on. “But I managed it with all the due elegance the Guild required." This, Susan knew, meant that he hadn't killed any innocent bystanders, pets, or miscellaneous people along the way. "The guards even survived," he added with some pride. They'd never walk again, or so the rumour mill said, but it was true that they were still breathing. It was these little steps that mattered; mutilate without tearing them to pieces. Sad to think that with Jonathan, that was progress.
"You could say congratulations, you know," he said reproachfully as Susan remained silent.
"Someone is dead," she said stiffly. "You know how I feel about that."
Jonathan sighed. "You get on well enough with your grandfather and you don't mind what he does."
Leave it to be Jonathan alone among her entirely human suitors to take her family history seriously.
"Grandfather collects souls after they have died. He does not kill them." Usually, she added mentally. This was a distinction she'd had to make more than once with Jonathan, but he seemed honestly incapable of seeing the difference. Thank the gods he didn't know that she'd once had to take up the scythe herself. She'd never told him because not because she thought it would bother him - and damnit it should bother him! - but because Jonathan would see The Duty as no different than assassination and that was infinitely worse.
"Well, all right. If you insist," he said, not pleased but clearly willing to allow Susan her little foible. She decided that she didn't have the energy to smack him. "The point is that the contract was very lucrative. If I can manage a few more like that I may be able to be released from my obligations as soon as next year. Isn't that wonderful?"
"Lovely," she said, trying to make her voice sound drowsy and purposefully slowing and deepening her breathing to make it sound as if she were falling asleep.
Jonathan had been a guild orphan, taken in after the deaths of his parents when he was very young - a subject Susan had carefully never brought up, convinced that there were things she didn't ever want to know. All the guilds took in a few orphans every year. The system wasn't perfect but still, it gave homes and trades to children who would have otherwise been left on the streets. It wasn't simply charity though. The guild fed, clothed, and educated their orphans which meant an outlay of money that needed to be paid back.
Each guild had its own rules regarding the obligations of their orphans once they reached adulthood. The Assassin's Guild, in particular, required that their orphans live within the Guild House and work only on Guild contracts for the first few years after their graduation to full guild membership to pay off their debt. It usually didn’t take more than a year or two and, unless they had a particular reason to leave, many stayed on long after this taking the opportunity to build up nice little nest eggs for themselves. After all, the Guild was a society of gentlemen which meant rather nice suits of rooms for its graduates, decent meals, and all house cleaning and laundry done free.
One of the consequences of the Assassin’s Guild Rules, though, was that until they had fulfilled their obligations those like Jonathan could not marry and set up their own households without the express permission of the Guild Council. Permission someone like Jonathan was very unlikely to receive.
Since repayment was usually a fairly swift process this shouldn’t have mattered, but even a year after his graduation the Council had, thus far, been refusing to give Jonathan any idea of when he'd be released. Susan suspected that they were fearful of what he might do without restraints placed upon him. A sentiment she could well understand and most heartily shared.
"It is lovely," he said, not hearing or ignoring her attempt to sound sleepy. He pressed a kiss on her temple. "We could be married then," he said softly.
Susan said nothing and hopped to hell that her faked sleep would be taken for actual sleep. She never knew what to say at times like these. She'd never intended to marry and even if she had she wouldn't have wanted to marry someone like Jonathan. It wasn’t just out of the question, it was truly insane. So far, she'd managed to avoid the subject whenever he brought it up, but he was nothing if not persistent. It seemed impossible to make him understand that whatever this thing was that existed between them, it wasn't love. The fact that it had lasted nearly a year didn't mean anything. It probably wouldn't last much longer; at least she hoped it wouldn't. Even if it did last as long as another year it certainly wouldn't last the rest of their lives. Gods, what a horrifying thought that was!
And what would Grandfather say? Inwardly, she shuddered not even wanting to think about that.
"You do want to get married, don't you Susan?"
She continued to remain silent but her feigned sleep apparently didn't fool him.
"Susan?" he asked again when she didn't answer.
Finally, she sighed. "I don't... I've never intended to marry. Ever. To anyone."
"Why ever not?" He sounded genuinely surprised and that sparked her temper in spite of herself.
How often had Susan been faced with the assumption that all that she’d worked for over the last several years was nothing but a game, a diversion to pass the time? How many times had she faced the assumption that all this about her carrier and her independence meant nothing? She was a lady after all, and therefore no matter how hard she worked or how independent she became she was just playing until the right man came along to marry her. It had become something of a sore spot for Susan.
"Not all women think of nothing but husbands and setting up house," she snapped.
It was Jonathan's turn to sigh, sounding slightly exasperated. "I know that. There are women in the Guild you know and some of them are the best we have. Besides, it's not like I'd expect you to give up your job or anything silly like that. I just want us to be married. Then we can have a house of our own and wake up together every morning and... Well, maybe we can even have children someday. Doesn't that sound nice?"
Susan felt twinges both of guilt and of horror. She knew Jonathan better than to assume he thought no more of her career than most of the men she knew. If he had one thing in his favour it was that he honestly didn’t see that much difference between men and women. It didn’t help, though, to remember that for the most part they were all just objects to him. The horror, however, was rather stronger. Susan suppressed a shudder. No, what he described did not sound nice. Just the thought of what kind of a child she and Jonathan might produce together scared the hell out of her.
"I don't want to marry." Susan kept her voice utterly steady. "The reasons are complicated and they have nothing to do with you. I will not marry. Anyone."
She heard him draw in a breath to speak again, no doubt to ask for an explanation, and interrupted him before he could.
"Please, Jonathan. It's complicated and I'm tired. Can we not discuss it tonight?"
Can we not ever discuss it at all ever, ever, ever?
There was a pause before he answered. Then he pressed a kiss to her temple. "Of course, Susan. Good night."
Susan lay still, staring into the dark with Jonathan's soft breath tickling her neck. It would be too much to hope that he'd drop the subject. The thought of marrying him was... well, it was utterly ludicrous. Only someone as crazy as he was could have thought it was anything else. But how to make him understand that?
Despite her exhaustion, it was some time before she slept.