Disclaimer: Ssuan, the Hogfather, Death and scenery are owned by Terry Pratchett. I only own Lascivia.
It was two o'clock in the morning and Lascivia wanted a glass of wine. Her mother had long ago tried
to tell her why only mature people drink wine. And Lascivia had agreed. Only mature people
should drink wine. Unfortunatly, Lascivia had missed the fact that she was not "mature".
Her mother had meant age, not the way Great Grandfather had explained it.
Lascivia pulled back the linen sheets and strolled out to the kitchens. It was amazing
how the absence of other human presence can magnify noises and movements. She used to
be scared by this, but soon realized that it was pointless. She continued her creaking
descent to the kitchens. It was a long way to go for a drink, but was usualy worth it.
As she arrived into the kitchens, she remembered. The turkey sitting in the cage
ready to be killed and cooked. The bowl of dried fruits and the new sack of flour.
The paper chains littering the ceiling. It was Hogswatch.
Lascivia knew the Hogfather existed, but was never swept up by the merry image of a jolly fat man.
She knew he wasn't. She had met him once, and now planned to meet him again.
She ran silently through the house and into the lounge room. Yes, he hadn't been yet. The
stockings were empty, the cookies uneaten, and the industrial-sized bottle of Lancre whiskey
was still waiting on the mantlepeice. Lascivia poured herself a glass of the whiskey and
nestled herself in a large armchair facing the fireplace. She sat there for three quarters of
an hour waiting for the Hogfather, by which time, she had nearly finished her third glass.
And then... As soot gushed down the chimney, she heard a pained grumble from the vicinity
of the bottle of Lancre whiskey.
"bugger bother and blast"
Lascivia leaned up from her chair and asked:
"Are you alright up there?"
"Yes, any reason for it not to be?"
"You sound like you need some help"
"Am not"
"You are so"
"Am not"
"Are so"
"Am not!"
YOU ARE SO
There was a stunned silence as the Hogfather tried to peice together the situation. He had been
being stuck in a chimney and talking to what he assumed was a young girl, when he heard the Voice.
There was only one person he knew who had that voice. And that was Death. But Death did also have a
grand-daughter, but that grand-daughter would have been about twenty-seven years old by now.
"Who are you?"
"Lascivia"
"Ah. Kevin told me about you, you're the daughter of that Susan girl, yes?"
"Yes and no. Yes, I am the daughter of Susan but, no, she is not a girl."
"Yes she is"
"No she isn't, she's an old bum"
"Old? How old?"
"I don't know, parents don't tell children their age"
"About how old?"
"Twenty-something, i don't know"
The Hogfather still wasn't convinced.
"Would your grandfather happen to be a little bony?"
"Yes"
"And blue eyed?"
"Yes"
"And does he have a penchant for wearing billowy black robes?"
"Yes"
"And does he have any grasp of swing-making?"
"Not at all"
"So your great grandfather is Death and your mother is Susan Sto Helit"
"Yes and yes"
"Great, now we've cleared that up, can you help me out of this chimney?"
"I thought you didn't need any help, let alone the help of a *wittle innocent girly wirly*?"
Lascivia was enjoying this. Normal children hide behind armchairs in order to spy of the Hogfather.
Lascivia enjoyed a more direct approach.
"How old are you?"
"Six"
"SIX?!?!?"
"Yes and very mature for my age, thank you very much."
"I'll say"
"So, do you want some help or not?"
"Yes please"
"I'll go get the butter"
*************************************************************
Hope you liked that one, it will continue in the next chapter. Please review, i like flames,
they keep me warm in the dark, cold, depths of the night.
*************************************************************
It was two o'clock in the morning and Lascivia wanted a glass of wine. Her mother had long ago tried
to tell her why only mature people drink wine. And Lascivia had agreed. Only mature people
should drink wine. Unfortunatly, Lascivia had missed the fact that she was not "mature".
Her mother had meant age, not the way Great Grandfather had explained it.
Lascivia pulled back the linen sheets and strolled out to the kitchens. It was amazing
how the absence of other human presence can magnify noises and movements. She used to
be scared by this, but soon realized that it was pointless. She continued her creaking
descent to the kitchens. It was a long way to go for a drink, but was usualy worth it.
As she arrived into the kitchens, she remembered. The turkey sitting in the cage
ready to be killed and cooked. The bowl of dried fruits and the new sack of flour.
The paper chains littering the ceiling. It was Hogswatch.
Lascivia knew the Hogfather existed, but was never swept up by the merry image of a jolly fat man.
She knew he wasn't. She had met him once, and now planned to meet him again.
She ran silently through the house and into the lounge room. Yes, he hadn't been yet. The
stockings were empty, the cookies uneaten, and the industrial-sized bottle of Lancre whiskey
was still waiting on the mantlepeice. Lascivia poured herself a glass of the whiskey and
nestled herself in a large armchair facing the fireplace. She sat there for three quarters of
an hour waiting for the Hogfather, by which time, she had nearly finished her third glass.
And then... As soot gushed down the chimney, she heard a pained grumble from the vicinity
of the bottle of Lancre whiskey.
"bugger bother and blast"
Lascivia leaned up from her chair and asked:
"Are you alright up there?"
"Yes, any reason for it not to be?"
"You sound like you need some help"
"Am not"
"You are so"
"Am not"
"Are so"
"Am not!"
YOU ARE SO
There was a stunned silence as the Hogfather tried to peice together the situation. He had been
being stuck in a chimney and talking to what he assumed was a young girl, when he heard the Voice.
There was only one person he knew who had that voice. And that was Death. But Death did also have a
grand-daughter, but that grand-daughter would have been about twenty-seven years old by now.
"Who are you?"
"Lascivia"
"Ah. Kevin told me about you, you're the daughter of that Susan girl, yes?"
"Yes and no. Yes, I am the daughter of Susan but, no, she is not a girl."
"Yes she is"
"No she isn't, she's an old bum"
"Old? How old?"
"I don't know, parents don't tell children their age"
"About how old?"
"Twenty-something, i don't know"
The Hogfather still wasn't convinced.
"Would your grandfather happen to be a little bony?"
"Yes"
"And blue eyed?"
"Yes"
"And does he have a penchant for wearing billowy black robes?"
"Yes"
"And does he have any grasp of swing-making?"
"Not at all"
"So your great grandfather is Death and your mother is Susan Sto Helit"
"Yes and yes"
"Great, now we've cleared that up, can you help me out of this chimney?"
"I thought you didn't need any help, let alone the help of a *wittle innocent girly wirly*?"
Lascivia was enjoying this. Normal children hide behind armchairs in order to spy of the Hogfather.
Lascivia enjoyed a more direct approach.
"How old are you?"
"Six"
"SIX?!?!?"
"Yes and very mature for my age, thank you very much."
"I'll say"
"So, do you want some help or not?"
"Yes please"
"I'll go get the butter"
*************************************************************
Hope you liked that one, it will continue in the next chapter. Please review, i like flames,
they keep me warm in the dark, cold, depths of the night.
*************************************************************