Fic, The Moon at Even. Claudia/Nick, 12
Dec. 27th, 2012 04:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fredbassettTitle : The Moon at Even
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 12
Characters : Claudia/Nick, Cara Cooper, Kermit
Disclaimer : Not mine, (except Kermit) no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Word Count : 5,113.
Summary : Nick takes Claudia for a winter weekend away from the anomaly project.
A/N : 1) Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lsellersfic for the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
primeval_denial Secret Santa. I hope I succeeded in incorporating two of your prompts into this and that you enjoy the fic :) This can be read as part of my ongoing Stephen/Ryan series or as a standalone. 2) Thank you to lukadreaming for the loan of Cara Cooper. 3) Many thanks to reggietate for the beta.
A large sign welcoming them to Herefordshire loomed up out of the mist and Claudia wondered if they were finally reaching the end of the journey.
Since they’d left the ARC a couple of hours previously, Nick had steadfastly refused to be drawn on the subject of their destination. The idea of a weekend away from the anomaly project had first been mentioned some while ago, but then events had overtaken them, as so often happened, and nothing had been said on the subject for a couple of months. But, to Claudia’s surprise, the idea had clearly taken root in Nick’s brain and earlier in the week, after checking that she had no other plans in mind, he’d asked her to pack for a long weekend away in the country. When she’d attempted to worm some details out of him, Nick had been deliberately vague on the subject of their destination, but he had at least confirmed that she wouldn’t be needing her passport.
When Nick had turned off the M4 onto the M48 and driven across the old Severn Bridge any thoughts of spending the weekend in a remote Scottish croft had receded, much to Claudia’s relief.
“Herefordshire?” Is this why you were deep in conversation with Kermit on Monday? Don’t tell me you’ve booked a place in a bunkroom at Credenhill?”
Nick grinned at her. “Not exactly, but I did have a bit of help from young Kermit’s wee lassie.”
Claudia smiled. Cara Cooper, an elfin beauty with the most glorious waist-length red hair, knew her well enough not to have landed her with anything too spartan for a holiday destination.
The high hedges, narrow roads and mist were a nerve-wracking combination, but even they were a relief after the tortuous - albeit scenic - drive up the Wye valley. On the plus side, Nick was a careful driver providing anomalies weren’t involved and they’d encountered very little traffic, which was an added bonus. On the minus side, mist had enveloped them as they’d crossed the grey waters of the Severn estuary, but although the weather forecast had mentioned the risk of snow, they hadn’t seen any so far, so things could very definitely have been worse.
They had travelled mainly in companionable silence, neither of them feeling the need to talk simply for the sake of making conversation. The early part of the month had been dogged by a procession of anomaly alerts and the latter part had been complicated by nearly everyone in the team, including the soldiers, having been laid low by a virulent cold that had only run its course in the last couple of days. As a result, they were both feeling tired and in desperate need of some rest and recuperation.
They passed same small villages and isolated houses, and eventually, as the light was starting to fail, Nick gave a pleased exclamation and turned off the road towards a pair of tall, white-painted gateposts. A five-barred gate stood open and the wheels of the Hilux crunched over gravel before Nick pulled up in front of a slate-roofed cottage set well back from the road. Two old-fashioned lanterns hanging on either side of a large porch cast a welcoming yellow glow in the clinging mist.
As Claudia pulled up the collar of her coat and braved the cold, the front door opened and Cara Cooper stepped out to welcome them, a wide smile on her face.
“Cara!” Claudia pulled the other woman into a hug.
Cara hugged her back and exclaimed, “Come in, I’ll help Nick with the luggage and then make you some tea and get you settled in.”
Between the three of them, the bags were quickly brought in to the warmth of the cottage and Cara ushered Claudia and Nick into a large kitchen, with an Aga at one end, a wood-burning stove at the other and an enormous, old oak table in the middle. The table was surrounded by mismatched chairs each with their own brightly coloured cushion. Logs were piled up in the fireplace on either side of the stove and a wreath of dark green holly set with bright red berries hung on an iron nail driven into the chimney breast. A sofa and two armchairs completed the homely look of what was clearly the main room of the cottage.
Cara hung their coats up in the hallway and soon the table was set with mugs, a tea pot and a plate piled high with slices of homemade cake.
“Did Professor Cutter explain that you’re my guinea pigs?” she asked.
Claudia smiled. “He’s spent far too long with Ryan and the lads. Nick has been working on a strict need to know basis. I didn’t even know we were bound for Herefordshire until we crossed the county boundary, and even then we might have just been passing through.”
“Spring Cottage belonged to my grandma,” Cara said, a fond smile on her face. “She died last year and left it to me but Kermit and I already have our own house and we love it, so we didn’t want to move here. But I couldn’t bear the thought of parting with it, so we decided to keep it and rent it out for holidays. We’ve put the word out around the base and we’ve already got quite a few bookings from people who want to visit their sons and have a holiday at the same time. You’re our first visitors.” Cara looked anxious for a moment. “You will tell me if there are any problems, won’t you, Miss Brown.”
“Claudia,” she said automatically, although she knew there was little prospect of it sticking. Cara always insisted on addressing everyone formally. Nick had long since given up trying to get her to address him as anything other than Professor.
Mischief glinted in eyes as green as Blade’s. Cara Cooper might look fragile, but she was the wife of a Special Forces trooper and Claudia had seen her hold her own effortlessly in the midst of a group of drunken soldiers all letting off steam in a variety of inventive ways. If Cara was happier not using their first names then Claudia saw no point in trying to press the point.
After tea and cake, Cara gave them a tour of the cottage, told them there was a casserole and some baked potatoes in the Aga along with an apple crumble, and then slipped away while they were still trying to thank her. The mist had lifted and as they watched the tail lights of her car disappearing out of the gate, Claudia looped her arm around Nick’s waist and kissed him on the cheek.
“Thank you, Nick, this is beautiful.”
“Have you brought some warm boots?” he asked, as the first flakes of snow started to dance in the lantern light.
“I most certainly have. I wasn’t a Girl Guide for nothing, you know.”
As Claudia spoke, more snow swirled in the air, fat flakes pirouetting madly before settling on the roof of the Hilux and on the gravel of the driveway.
“So was Cara, by the look of it,” Nick said. “There’s a pan of mulled wine on the Aga and the sun is very definitely over the yardarm.”
It had been a long day and Claudia felt the rich spiced wine going straight to her head, but it was a pleasant feeling and she loved the fact that they had nothing more taxing to do than unpack their bags and put away the food that Nick had brought. Cara’s beef casserole with dumplings and baked potatoes was delicious, as was the apple crumble. When they’d finished all they could eat, Nick dealt with the dishes and then poured them both some more mulled wine and settled down next to Claudia on the sofa.
She snuggled up to him, her feet tucked up underneath her, encased in a pair of very dilapidated old slippers. The nice thing about not being in the first flush of a relationship was the ability to dress for comfort rather than looks. She rested her head on Nick’s shoulder and sipped the warm wine.
By 9.30pm, they were both yawning and ready for bed. The bedroom looked like it had recently been redecorated. The walls were a fresh pale primrose colour, with a white-painted ceiling and dark wooden skirting boards. A brightly-coloured patchwork blanket was draped over a thick duvet and the lamps that stood on each of the bedside tables filled the room with soft light.
Claudia pulled back thick red velvet curtains and looked out on a world that was steadily turning white. “If they need us now, Lester is going to have to send a helicopter. I doubt even the Hilux would get very far at the moment.”
Nick wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. “Forget anomalies for the moment. We’ve earned this break.”
She let the curtains fall closed and turned around, offering her face for his kisses. Nick was right, for once, she wasn’t going to worry about anomalies.
Nestled under the duvet in a bed that had been well-warmed by an electric blanket, Claudia and Nick soon fell into a sleep for once wholly undisturbed by dinosaurs.
* * * * *
“Wakey wakey, lass.”
Claudia poked her nose outside the warm cocoon of the duvet and looked up at Nick. He’d got dressed and was wearing an old sweater over a long-sleeved teeshirt and a pair of dilapidated jeans. His hair stood up in untidy spikes and he hadn’t shaved. Claudia was tempted to entice him back into bed, but they had the weekend ahead of them and she did desperately want the mug of tea and two rounds of buttered toast that Nick had just set down on the bedside table.
The room was warmer than she had expected, making sitting up in bed a pleasant experience rather than one simply to be endured. It looked like Cara and Kermit had done a good job of ensuring the home comfort of their guests with newly-installed radiators keeping the winter chills at bay.
Nick pulled back the velvet curtains and Claudia could see the branches of a tree outside the window heavily laden with snow. “We’re not going anywhere apart from on foot today,” he announced cheerfully.
“Can we build a snowman?” Claudia asked, only half-joking.
Nick’s eyes lit up with delight. “I haven’t done that since I was a wee lad at my granny’s place.”
“A remote croft in the Scottish highlands?” Claudia hazarded.
“A rough council estate in Glasgow.”
She laughed. That no doubt explained why Nick had grown up quite so handy with his fists when the occasion merited it. He rarely spoke about his family, but she knew he had been close to his grandmother as both his parents had died while he had still been at university.
Morning sunlight streamed in through the lead-paned window. Claudia could understand why Nick had wanted to be out and about on such a lovely day. After she’d enjoyed breakfast in bed, Claudia showered quickly and then dressed in warm clothes, including the pair of fleece-lined boots that she’d bought in anticipation of a snowy winter. Once dressed, Claudia took in more of the details in the bedroom now that she was seeing it for the first time in daylight.
An old wooden dressing table had been polished until the dark wood positively shone. On it stood a delicate blue pottery vase with a spray of dried lavender. On the wall above was a painting of an old door flanked by intricately carved pillars and topped with a deeply-carved, reddish-coloured stone archway. As Claudia looked more closely, she realised she was looking at a photograph rather than a painting, and she remembered that Cara Cooper was a photographer.
Other photographs on the wall were of an old church, now without a roof, the interior open to the elements. Claudia was impressed by their attention to detail and the interesting angles from which the photos must have been taken. On one occasion the photographer must have been lying flat out on snow-covered grass. Claudia enjoyed taking photos, but she would be the first to admit that her snaps fell far short of Cara Cooper’s mastery with the camera. A card left discreetly on the dressing table told her that all the photographs in the cottage were for sale and directed the reader to Cara’s website. Claudia had every intention of checking that out, and she hoped to discover where the church was, as she would like to see the beautifully carved doorway.
By the time she made her way down to the kitchen, the smell of frying bacon was wafting up the stairs, difficult to ignore at any time, even after she’d already had toast. Nick cooked with the same enthusiasm with which he undertook any task – other than providing reports to Lester. His results were occasionally a trifle random, but Claudia had to admit that he made excellent breakfasts.
“Do you have any idea where the church in Cara’s photos is?” she asked, sitting down at the table and pouring some more tea for them both.
“Aye, it’s in the village. According to some notes in the visitors’ book, there’s a footpath at the side of the cottage that we can follow.” Nick loaded two buttered rolls with bacon and passed them over to Claudia. “That’ll keep you going for a while. Do you want to go to the church before or after building the snowman?”
“Before. I’m not sure a full stomach is compatible with snowman building.”
“Before it is,” Nick said, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “But don’t think I’m going to forget.”
The walk to the church took them across several fields all covered with at least a foot of snow. In the thick hedgerows, holly leaves gleamed greenly where birds had perched on them and shaken the powdery snow off the leaves. Claudia managed to use the camera on her phone to snap a picture of a red-breasted robin perched next to a spray of equally red berries. The bird wouldn’t have looked out of place on a Christmas card and posed obligingly for her photos. She also caught sight of a small, brown wren darting in and out amongst the undergrowth.
They could see the church ahead of them across the last field and behind it was what looked like an earthwork of some sort.
“It’s the remains of an old Norman castle,” Nick told her. “The church dates from the same period.” He fished out a small booklet from the pocket of his old green army jacket and leaved through the pages. “Cara’s left information on anything in the neighbourhood that we might find interesting. The church might even have parts that date back to the Saxons.”
“How did it end up a ruin?” Claudia asked, as they negotiated a frozen stream on a slippery bridge made of three railways sleepers laid side by side.
“A fire in 1945. The pews and the roof timbers were destroyed but the villagers were able to save the stonework.” As they walked, Nick carried on reading from the booklet. “Until the fire, it was apparently one of the finest Norman village churches in England.” He flipped on through a few pages and declared, “It’s got 86 carved corbels as well as a green man and a Sheela-na-gig!”
Claudia stared at him in amazement. She’d never expected Nick Cutter to be enthusiastic on the subject of churches.
“When I was 17, I went out with a vicar’s daughter,” he said, correctly divining the reason for her surprised look. “Her dad was an expert on medieval churches. I sucked up to him something rotten.”
“What happened?”
“She was a year older than me. She went to Edinburgh uni and fell in love with the captain of the rugby team. I was bereft for at least three weeks.”
“Three weeks?” Claudia gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You poor darling.”
“I detect amusement, you unsympathetic woman. Unless you’re nice to me I won’t give you a guided tour of the church.”
“I’ll be nice to you,” Claudia promised. “I’ll cook you roast beef with roast potatoes, carrots, parsnips and Yorkshire pudding for your tea. How does that sound?” Nick had bought enough food to prevent the entire Special Forces contingent going hungry, so she had plenty to choose from.
Nick expressed his appreciation of that suggestion by kissing her enthusiastically, his lips warm against hers.
A signboard on the path that led to the church announced it to be the ruin of the church of St Mary and St David, built by Hugh fitz William on land given to his father by William the Conqueror. His father had built the castle with which the church was associated. Apart from some minor later additions, the church had hardly been altered in over 850 years. The fire damage in 1945 had been one tragedy amongst many and after war, money had been in short supply, so the rebuilding had never taken place, and the village was now served by a church in a neighbouring village.
Claudia was entranced by the elaborately carved doorway, which the interpretation board proclaimed to be the most richly carved of any church in England. Clusters of foliage and grapes around one of the pillars were believed to represent the Tree of Life and she was able to make out the mysterious head of one of the church’s Green Men, wreathed with leaves. With Nick declaiming facts from the guidebook, they made their way round the church from south to north, staring at an increasing fascinating array of carvings, many of grotesque faces – not gargoyles, as Nick explained, as true gargoyles were in fact decorative water-spouts. Each had its own personality, from a round-faced man with a beard and staring eyes to another, thinner figure, contorted into a strange position holding his own ankle. Interspersed with them were animals and birds: a cheerful-looking pig, an impressive stag, various birds and even a charming hound dog with floppy ears sharing a corbel with a rabbit. The pair could have come straight out of a Disney cartoon. According to the guidebook, the creature was a hare rather than a rabbit, but Claudia wasn’t convinced.
Nick walked a few more steps in the snow and stared up at another figure, which made Claudia’s eyes widen to see such a thing on a church. A female figure, with the almond-shaped eyes common to many of the faces, stared down at them from the tope of the wall whilst reaching behind her legs and holding open her own vulva.
Claudia turned to Nick with raised eyebrows. “What on earth would your girlfriend’s father have thought of that?”
Nick grinned. “That’s the Sheela-na-gig I mentioned. He loved them. There was one on his own church above the door and brides used to touch it on their way into church to get married, hoping it would bring fertility. They’re quite rare and no one really knows what they’re doing on churches.”
“My mind is being suitably broadened,” Claudia said smiling. She tucked her arm through Nick’s and together they continued their walk around the old church.
By the gate that led out to the village, a laminated notice had been tied to a tree. The following night, there would be a candlelight procession from the village green to the church, culminating in carol singing inside the church itself. Claudia turned to Nick and raised her eyebrows questioning.
“If that’s what you want to do, it’s fine by me.”
“You don’t mind the religious stuff?”
Nick chuckled. “Carols are just songs, and I like a good sing-song.”
As they finished their walk around the church, Claudia saw several of the figures that Cara had captured with her camera and she knew that as soon as she could, she would buy one of the photographs for her own flat, probably one of the cheerful-looking dog with the equally cheerful rabbit. Just as they arrived back at the main door, the snow started to fall again. Light, dancing flakes at first, but a glance at the sky told Claudia that the heavy grey clouds had more than a few flakes in store for them.
She pulled her phone out of her pocket. “James needs to know that there’s no possibility of us going anywhere if an anomaly does crop up.” But the words No Service blazoned across her screen put a stop to that idea.
“There’s a phone at the cottage. You can call him from there if you really want to,” Nick said. “But I did tell him I would leave no stone unturned in my search for baby photos of him if he dragged us away from here early. Lyle has promised to procure some if I bribe him with enough beer.”
If the threat of baby photos of him adorning the board in the breakroom didn’t keep Sir James Lester off their backs, nothing would. And with Lyle to exert some degree of control over him in their off-duty hours, Claudia entertained a reasonable hope of an undisturbed weekend.
On their way back to the cottage, they passed several parents out for a walk with children and dogs, and the countryside was already sprouting snowmen everywhere but by the time they reached the driveway, the snow was driving hard and a bitter east wind was starting to blow. They made a dash for the porch and sheltered there from the snow while Claudia fumbled in her pocket for the keys.
The cottage was warm and cosy after the freezing wind of the last part of the walk, and a mug each of hot chocolate laced with a nip of whisky soon banished any remaining chills. With making a snowman off the agenda for the moment, Claudia popped a partly-cooked baguette into the oven and heated some soup. An afternoon spent curled up on the sofa in front of the fire was a very attractive prospect and even Nick seemed quite content to catch up with some reading, although in his case it was a stack of academic journals rather than a novel.
The afternoon passed quickly and companionably, with Claudia alternating dozing with reading until it was time to prepare their evening meal. Once the beef and roast potatoes were in the Aga and the vegetables had been prepared, Claudia took a look outside. The snow had stopped falling, their footsteps on the driveway had been completely obliterated, and above her a myriad stars shone in a black velvet sky.
Nick came up behind her and looped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against him and nuzzling the back of her neck through her hair. “If it stays clear, we’ll make that snowman tomorrow, shall we?”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she said, turning around in his arms for a kiss.
* * * * *
The sign they’d seen outside the church had said the candle-lit procession would start from the village green at 6pm.
In one of the kitchen cupboards, Nick had found a supply of candles and two lanterns like the ones in the porch. They cast a yellow light over the snow-covered driveway and illuminated the large snowman that they had spent most of the morning making. His dark, stone eyes regarded them solemnly over his jauntily-angled nose made out of a spare carrot. Claudia smiled at their construction. He’d taken so long to make mainly because they’d broken off for frequent snowball fights and hot drinks, as well as a tasty lunch of cold beef accompanied by bubble and squeak.
Claudia had made a chicken casserole for their supper and popped it in the oven just before they left to make their way by road to the middle of the village. It looked like no more than a couple of vehicles had braved the weather since the snow had come down, but by the time they reached the village green, a cluster of people were already gathered around a tall spruce tree adorned by cheerfully winking multi-coloured lights. Amidst the throng of people, Claudia recognised Cara and her husband. Darren Cooper, better known to anyone who worked in the ARC as Kermit, smiled shyly as they approached.
“Hello, Miss Brown, Professor.” Kermit was another one who didn’t believe in using first names, even off-duty. He bounced his daughter on his hip and said, “Say hello, Beth.”
The child smiled even more shyly than her father and promptly buried her face in his chest.
“She’s growing,” Nick said. For a single man, he was remarkably comfortable around children and Claudia knew it wouldn’t be long before Beth was riding on Nick’s hip rather than her father’s and giggling happily. She’d seen Nick work his magic before.
“She’s a holy terror these days,” Cara said, smiling at her husband and daughter. “Is everything all right at the cottage?”
“It’s wonderful, thank you,” Claudia assured her.
A few minutes later, someone handed around a sheaf of printed papers and then, with practised harmony, the group started off with a rendition of the beautiful, if somewhat mournful, Lyke Wake Dirge.
“This ae nighte, this ae nighte,
Every nighte and alle,
Fire and fleet and candle-lighte
And Christe receive thy saule.”
She was familiar with both words and music from the version by Pentangle and as the group moved off, Claudia and Nick both joined in, walking next to Cara and Kermit as they all tramped through the snow in the direction of the church. Around them, lanterns and candles lit the darkness, delighting the children, who kept dashing on ahead, extinguishing their flames, and then running back for them to be re-lit.
Lyke Wake Dirge gave way to the more cheerful verses of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, something for which neither Claudia nor Nick needed to consult their song sheets.
Two teenagers muffled in coats and buried so deep in scarves and hats that Claudia was hard pressed to make out that the sentinels were in fact both female flanked the ornately carved main doorway. They carried lanterns held high on wooden poles, and welcomed everyone inside the church with a bright smile.
Only the playing of the organ was lacking as the group broke into the next carol and the strains of The Holly and the Ivy rang throughout the ruined building. After that, the chosen carols were a mix of old and new. According to Cara, only the opening carol, Lyke Wake Dirge, and the closing one, Once in Royal David’s City, a song that Claudia remembered loving from carol services during her days at boarding school, remained the same every year. Like Nick, Claudia held no particular religious beliefs, but she did respect the beauty of the words and music, and in a setting as ancient as the ruined church of St Mary and St David, it was impossible to remain unmoved.
Tears prickled at Claudia’s eyes when she remembered those that the anomaly project had been unable to save, despite their best efforts, and she hoped that somewhere those left behind would find some comfort at a time of year that must have felt almost impossibly bleak without their loved ones.
At her side, Kermit caught her eyes for a moment and Claudia could see tears shining in the young soldier’s eyes and she knew that he was thinking of the comrades he’d lost. Kermit, in his early 20s, was the baby of the unit, and it would be easy to mistake his youthful good looks for inexperience, but he had worked in some of the world’s cruellest wars, as well as having faced countless dangers from the past during his involvement with the anomalies. He smiled at her, and hugged his wife and daughter close. Claudia smiled back.
When the final notes died away, flasks of mulled wine were brought out and tins of mince pies passed around. After that, people started to drift back to their homes and the flicker of candlelight could be seen at some distance across the darkened fields.
Claudia stood outside the church looking up at some of the fantastic creatures in the stone bestiary, and wondered what the masons had might have seen to enable them to have come up with some of the stranger ones. The church had already been in existence when an anomaly had opened in the middle ages, bringing men through to the present day. It was by no means impossible that the men who had carved the figures on these corbels had been inspired by animals or birds from another time.
“I bind unto myself this day
The virtues of the starlit heaven,
The glorious sun’s life-giving ray,
The whiteness of the moon at even,
The flashing of the lightning free,
The whirling wind’s tempestuous shocks,
The stable earth, the deep salt sea
Around the old eternal rocks.”
The words were quietly spoken, the r on the final word rolled softly in a way that warmed Claudia as effectively as the mulled wine had done.
“That was the nearest my Gran ever got to a prayer,” Nick told her. “I liked it because it mentioned rocks. She never minded me filling the house with fossils.” He took Claudia’s hand in his. “Thank you for putting up with me. I know I don’t tell you this anywhere near often enough, but I do love you, Claudia Brown.”
Claudia felt tears prick at her eyes again. “It’s no hardship, I can assure you. And I love you, too, Nick Cutter. Thank you for a perfect weekend.”
* * * * *
As the final lantern lights were carried away across the fields, for a few moments, another light shone with the brightness of every star in the night sky, but this light was inside the church, not outside it. In the ruined nave, watched by one of the church’s carved green men, staring down from one of the remaining stone pillars, a ball of diamond light spun slowly in the air.
In front of it, a hare sat on its haunches, staring in surprise at the darkness and the snow on the ground. Only a moment ago it had been surrounded by warmth and sunlight, not the cold, wintery light that now played on the trampled snow.
The hare scratched its ear with one powerful hind leg. This was not a world that held much appeal. It would take its chance with the hounds rather than search for food in a wintery world.
Moments after the hare had hopped back through to its own time, the anomaly closed, leaving no trace of its passing.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 12
Characters : Claudia/Nick, Cara Cooper, Kermit
Disclaimer : Not mine, (except Kermit) no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Word Count : 5,113.
Summary : Nick takes Claudia for a winter weekend away from the anomaly project.
A/N : 1) Written for
lsellersfic for the primeval_denial Secret Santa. I hope I succeeded in incorporating two of your prompts into this and that you enjoy the fic :) This can be read as part of my ongoing Stephen/Ryan series or as a standalone. 2) Thank you to lukadreaming for the loan of Cara Cooper. 3) Many thanks to reggietate for the beta.A large sign welcoming them to Herefordshire loomed up out of the mist and Claudia wondered if they were finally reaching the end of the journey.
Since they’d left the ARC a couple of hours previously, Nick had steadfastly refused to be drawn on the subject of their destination. The idea of a weekend away from the anomaly project had first been mentioned some while ago, but then events had overtaken them, as so often happened, and nothing had been said on the subject for a couple of months. But, to Claudia’s surprise, the idea had clearly taken root in Nick’s brain and earlier in the week, after checking that she had no other plans in mind, he’d asked her to pack for a long weekend away in the country. When she’d attempted to worm some details out of him, Nick had been deliberately vague on the subject of their destination, but he had at least confirmed that she wouldn’t be needing her passport.
When Nick had turned off the M4 onto the M48 and driven across the old Severn Bridge any thoughts of spending the weekend in a remote Scottish croft had receded, much to Claudia’s relief.
“Herefordshire?” Is this why you were deep in conversation with Kermit on Monday? Don’t tell me you’ve booked a place in a bunkroom at Credenhill?”
Nick grinned at her. “Not exactly, but I did have a bit of help from young Kermit’s wee lassie.”
Claudia smiled. Cara Cooper, an elfin beauty with the most glorious waist-length red hair, knew her well enough not to have landed her with anything too spartan for a holiday destination.
The high hedges, narrow roads and mist were a nerve-wracking combination, but even they were a relief after the tortuous - albeit scenic - drive up the Wye valley. On the plus side, Nick was a careful driver providing anomalies weren’t involved and they’d encountered very little traffic, which was an added bonus. On the minus side, mist had enveloped them as they’d crossed the grey waters of the Severn estuary, but although the weather forecast had mentioned the risk of snow, they hadn’t seen any so far, so things could very definitely have been worse.
They had travelled mainly in companionable silence, neither of them feeling the need to talk simply for the sake of making conversation. The early part of the month had been dogged by a procession of anomaly alerts and the latter part had been complicated by nearly everyone in the team, including the soldiers, having been laid low by a virulent cold that had only run its course in the last couple of days. As a result, they were both feeling tired and in desperate need of some rest and recuperation.
They passed same small villages and isolated houses, and eventually, as the light was starting to fail, Nick gave a pleased exclamation and turned off the road towards a pair of tall, white-painted gateposts. A five-barred gate stood open and the wheels of the Hilux crunched over gravel before Nick pulled up in front of a slate-roofed cottage set well back from the road. Two old-fashioned lanterns hanging on either side of a large porch cast a welcoming yellow glow in the clinging mist.
As Claudia pulled up the collar of her coat and braved the cold, the front door opened and Cara Cooper stepped out to welcome them, a wide smile on her face.
“Cara!” Claudia pulled the other woman into a hug.
Cara hugged her back and exclaimed, “Come in, I’ll help Nick with the luggage and then make you some tea and get you settled in.”
Between the three of them, the bags were quickly brought in to the warmth of the cottage and Cara ushered Claudia and Nick into a large kitchen, with an Aga at one end, a wood-burning stove at the other and an enormous, old oak table in the middle. The table was surrounded by mismatched chairs each with their own brightly coloured cushion. Logs were piled up in the fireplace on either side of the stove and a wreath of dark green holly set with bright red berries hung on an iron nail driven into the chimney breast. A sofa and two armchairs completed the homely look of what was clearly the main room of the cottage.
Cara hung their coats up in the hallway and soon the table was set with mugs, a tea pot and a plate piled high with slices of homemade cake.
“Did Professor Cutter explain that you’re my guinea pigs?” she asked.
Claudia smiled. “He’s spent far too long with Ryan and the lads. Nick has been working on a strict need to know basis. I didn’t even know we were bound for Herefordshire until we crossed the county boundary, and even then we might have just been passing through.”
“Spring Cottage belonged to my grandma,” Cara said, a fond smile on her face. “She died last year and left it to me but Kermit and I already have our own house and we love it, so we didn’t want to move here. But I couldn’t bear the thought of parting with it, so we decided to keep it and rent it out for holidays. We’ve put the word out around the base and we’ve already got quite a few bookings from people who want to visit their sons and have a holiday at the same time. You’re our first visitors.” Cara looked anxious for a moment. “You will tell me if there are any problems, won’t you, Miss Brown.”
“Claudia,” she said automatically, although she knew there was little prospect of it sticking. Cara always insisted on addressing everyone formally. Nick had long since given up trying to get her to address him as anything other than Professor.
Mischief glinted in eyes as green as Blade’s. Cara Cooper might look fragile, but she was the wife of a Special Forces trooper and Claudia had seen her hold her own effortlessly in the midst of a group of drunken soldiers all letting off steam in a variety of inventive ways. If Cara was happier not using their first names then Claudia saw no point in trying to press the point.
After tea and cake, Cara gave them a tour of the cottage, told them there was a casserole and some baked potatoes in the Aga along with an apple crumble, and then slipped away while they were still trying to thank her. The mist had lifted and as they watched the tail lights of her car disappearing out of the gate, Claudia looped her arm around Nick’s waist and kissed him on the cheek.
“Thank you, Nick, this is beautiful.”
“Have you brought some warm boots?” he asked, as the first flakes of snow started to dance in the lantern light.
“I most certainly have. I wasn’t a Girl Guide for nothing, you know.”
As Claudia spoke, more snow swirled in the air, fat flakes pirouetting madly before settling on the roof of the Hilux and on the gravel of the driveway.
“So was Cara, by the look of it,” Nick said. “There’s a pan of mulled wine on the Aga and the sun is very definitely over the yardarm.”
It had been a long day and Claudia felt the rich spiced wine going straight to her head, but it was a pleasant feeling and she loved the fact that they had nothing more taxing to do than unpack their bags and put away the food that Nick had brought. Cara’s beef casserole with dumplings and baked potatoes was delicious, as was the apple crumble. When they’d finished all they could eat, Nick dealt with the dishes and then poured them both some more mulled wine and settled down next to Claudia on the sofa.
She snuggled up to him, her feet tucked up underneath her, encased in a pair of very dilapidated old slippers. The nice thing about not being in the first flush of a relationship was the ability to dress for comfort rather than looks. She rested her head on Nick’s shoulder and sipped the warm wine.
By 9.30pm, they were both yawning and ready for bed. The bedroom looked like it had recently been redecorated. The walls were a fresh pale primrose colour, with a white-painted ceiling and dark wooden skirting boards. A brightly-coloured patchwork blanket was draped over a thick duvet and the lamps that stood on each of the bedside tables filled the room with soft light.
Claudia pulled back thick red velvet curtains and looked out on a world that was steadily turning white. “If they need us now, Lester is going to have to send a helicopter. I doubt even the Hilux would get very far at the moment.”
Nick wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. “Forget anomalies for the moment. We’ve earned this break.”
She let the curtains fall closed and turned around, offering her face for his kisses. Nick was right, for once, she wasn’t going to worry about anomalies.
Nestled under the duvet in a bed that had been well-warmed by an electric blanket, Claudia and Nick soon fell into a sleep for once wholly undisturbed by dinosaurs.
* * * * *
“Wakey wakey, lass.”
Claudia poked her nose outside the warm cocoon of the duvet and looked up at Nick. He’d got dressed and was wearing an old sweater over a long-sleeved teeshirt and a pair of dilapidated jeans. His hair stood up in untidy spikes and he hadn’t shaved. Claudia was tempted to entice him back into bed, but they had the weekend ahead of them and she did desperately want the mug of tea and two rounds of buttered toast that Nick had just set down on the bedside table.
The room was warmer than she had expected, making sitting up in bed a pleasant experience rather than one simply to be endured. It looked like Cara and Kermit had done a good job of ensuring the home comfort of their guests with newly-installed radiators keeping the winter chills at bay.
Nick pulled back the velvet curtains and Claudia could see the branches of a tree outside the window heavily laden with snow. “We’re not going anywhere apart from on foot today,” he announced cheerfully.
“Can we build a snowman?” Claudia asked, only half-joking.
Nick’s eyes lit up with delight. “I haven’t done that since I was a wee lad at my granny’s place.”
“A remote croft in the Scottish highlands?” Claudia hazarded.
“A rough council estate in Glasgow.”
She laughed. That no doubt explained why Nick had grown up quite so handy with his fists when the occasion merited it. He rarely spoke about his family, but she knew he had been close to his grandmother as both his parents had died while he had still been at university.
Morning sunlight streamed in through the lead-paned window. Claudia could understand why Nick had wanted to be out and about on such a lovely day. After she’d enjoyed breakfast in bed, Claudia showered quickly and then dressed in warm clothes, including the pair of fleece-lined boots that she’d bought in anticipation of a snowy winter. Once dressed, Claudia took in more of the details in the bedroom now that she was seeing it for the first time in daylight.
An old wooden dressing table had been polished until the dark wood positively shone. On it stood a delicate blue pottery vase with a spray of dried lavender. On the wall above was a painting of an old door flanked by intricately carved pillars and topped with a deeply-carved, reddish-coloured stone archway. As Claudia looked more closely, she realised she was looking at a photograph rather than a painting, and she remembered that Cara Cooper was a photographer.
Other photographs on the wall were of an old church, now without a roof, the interior open to the elements. Claudia was impressed by their attention to detail and the interesting angles from which the photos must have been taken. On one occasion the photographer must have been lying flat out on snow-covered grass. Claudia enjoyed taking photos, but she would be the first to admit that her snaps fell far short of Cara Cooper’s mastery with the camera. A card left discreetly on the dressing table told her that all the photographs in the cottage were for sale and directed the reader to Cara’s website. Claudia had every intention of checking that out, and she hoped to discover where the church was, as she would like to see the beautifully carved doorway.
By the time she made her way down to the kitchen, the smell of frying bacon was wafting up the stairs, difficult to ignore at any time, even after she’d already had toast. Nick cooked with the same enthusiasm with which he undertook any task – other than providing reports to Lester. His results were occasionally a trifle random, but Claudia had to admit that he made excellent breakfasts.
“Do you have any idea where the church in Cara’s photos is?” she asked, sitting down at the table and pouring some more tea for them both.
“Aye, it’s in the village. According to some notes in the visitors’ book, there’s a footpath at the side of the cottage that we can follow.” Nick loaded two buttered rolls with bacon and passed them over to Claudia. “That’ll keep you going for a while. Do you want to go to the church before or after building the snowman?”
“Before. I’m not sure a full stomach is compatible with snowman building.”
“Before it is,” Nick said, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. “But don’t think I’m going to forget.”
The walk to the church took them across several fields all covered with at least a foot of snow. In the thick hedgerows, holly leaves gleamed greenly where birds had perched on them and shaken the powdery snow off the leaves. Claudia managed to use the camera on her phone to snap a picture of a red-breasted robin perched next to a spray of equally red berries. The bird wouldn’t have looked out of place on a Christmas card and posed obligingly for her photos. She also caught sight of a small, brown wren darting in and out amongst the undergrowth.
They could see the church ahead of them across the last field and behind it was what looked like an earthwork of some sort.
“It’s the remains of an old Norman castle,” Nick told her. “The church dates from the same period.” He fished out a small booklet from the pocket of his old green army jacket and leaved through the pages. “Cara’s left information on anything in the neighbourhood that we might find interesting. The church might even have parts that date back to the Saxons.”
“How did it end up a ruin?” Claudia asked, as they negotiated a frozen stream on a slippery bridge made of three railways sleepers laid side by side.
“A fire in 1945. The pews and the roof timbers were destroyed but the villagers were able to save the stonework.” As they walked, Nick carried on reading from the booklet. “Until the fire, it was apparently one of the finest Norman village churches in England.” He flipped on through a few pages and declared, “It’s got 86 carved corbels as well as a green man and a Sheela-na-gig!”
Claudia stared at him in amazement. She’d never expected Nick Cutter to be enthusiastic on the subject of churches.
“When I was 17, I went out with a vicar’s daughter,” he said, correctly divining the reason for her surprised look. “Her dad was an expert on medieval churches. I sucked up to him something rotten.”
“What happened?”
“She was a year older than me. She went to Edinburgh uni and fell in love with the captain of the rugby team. I was bereft for at least three weeks.”
“Three weeks?” Claudia gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You poor darling.”
“I detect amusement, you unsympathetic woman. Unless you’re nice to me I won’t give you a guided tour of the church.”
“I’ll be nice to you,” Claudia promised. “I’ll cook you roast beef with roast potatoes, carrots, parsnips and Yorkshire pudding for your tea. How does that sound?” Nick had bought enough food to prevent the entire Special Forces contingent going hungry, so she had plenty to choose from.
Nick expressed his appreciation of that suggestion by kissing her enthusiastically, his lips warm against hers.
A signboard on the path that led to the church announced it to be the ruin of the church of St Mary and St David, built by Hugh fitz William on land given to his father by William the Conqueror. His father had built the castle with which the church was associated. Apart from some minor later additions, the church had hardly been altered in over 850 years. The fire damage in 1945 had been one tragedy amongst many and after war, money had been in short supply, so the rebuilding had never taken place, and the village was now served by a church in a neighbouring village.
Claudia was entranced by the elaborately carved doorway, which the interpretation board proclaimed to be the most richly carved of any church in England. Clusters of foliage and grapes around one of the pillars were believed to represent the Tree of Life and she was able to make out the mysterious head of one of the church’s Green Men, wreathed with leaves. With Nick declaiming facts from the guidebook, they made their way round the church from south to north, staring at an increasing fascinating array of carvings, many of grotesque faces – not gargoyles, as Nick explained, as true gargoyles were in fact decorative water-spouts. Each had its own personality, from a round-faced man with a beard and staring eyes to another, thinner figure, contorted into a strange position holding his own ankle. Interspersed with them were animals and birds: a cheerful-looking pig, an impressive stag, various birds and even a charming hound dog with floppy ears sharing a corbel with a rabbit. The pair could have come straight out of a Disney cartoon. According to the guidebook, the creature was a hare rather than a rabbit, but Claudia wasn’t convinced.
Nick walked a few more steps in the snow and stared up at another figure, which made Claudia’s eyes widen to see such a thing on a church. A female figure, with the almond-shaped eyes common to many of the faces, stared down at them from the tope of the wall whilst reaching behind her legs and holding open her own vulva.
Claudia turned to Nick with raised eyebrows. “What on earth would your girlfriend’s father have thought of that?”
Nick grinned. “That’s the Sheela-na-gig I mentioned. He loved them. There was one on his own church above the door and brides used to touch it on their way into church to get married, hoping it would bring fertility. They’re quite rare and no one really knows what they’re doing on churches.”
“My mind is being suitably broadened,” Claudia said smiling. She tucked her arm through Nick’s and together they continued their walk around the old church.
By the gate that led out to the village, a laminated notice had been tied to a tree. The following night, there would be a candlelight procession from the village green to the church, culminating in carol singing inside the church itself. Claudia turned to Nick and raised her eyebrows questioning.
“If that’s what you want to do, it’s fine by me.”
“You don’t mind the religious stuff?”
Nick chuckled. “Carols are just songs, and I like a good sing-song.”
As they finished their walk around the church, Claudia saw several of the figures that Cara had captured with her camera and she knew that as soon as she could, she would buy one of the photographs for her own flat, probably one of the cheerful-looking dog with the equally cheerful rabbit. Just as they arrived back at the main door, the snow started to fall again. Light, dancing flakes at first, but a glance at the sky told Claudia that the heavy grey clouds had more than a few flakes in store for them.
She pulled her phone out of her pocket. “James needs to know that there’s no possibility of us going anywhere if an anomaly does crop up.” But the words No Service blazoned across her screen put a stop to that idea.
“There’s a phone at the cottage. You can call him from there if you really want to,” Nick said. “But I did tell him I would leave no stone unturned in my search for baby photos of him if he dragged us away from here early. Lyle has promised to procure some if I bribe him with enough beer.”
If the threat of baby photos of him adorning the board in the breakroom didn’t keep Sir James Lester off their backs, nothing would. And with Lyle to exert some degree of control over him in their off-duty hours, Claudia entertained a reasonable hope of an undisturbed weekend.
On their way back to the cottage, they passed several parents out for a walk with children and dogs, and the countryside was already sprouting snowmen everywhere but by the time they reached the driveway, the snow was driving hard and a bitter east wind was starting to blow. They made a dash for the porch and sheltered there from the snow while Claudia fumbled in her pocket for the keys.
The cottage was warm and cosy after the freezing wind of the last part of the walk, and a mug each of hot chocolate laced with a nip of whisky soon banished any remaining chills. With making a snowman off the agenda for the moment, Claudia popped a partly-cooked baguette into the oven and heated some soup. An afternoon spent curled up on the sofa in front of the fire was a very attractive prospect and even Nick seemed quite content to catch up with some reading, although in his case it was a stack of academic journals rather than a novel.
The afternoon passed quickly and companionably, with Claudia alternating dozing with reading until it was time to prepare their evening meal. Once the beef and roast potatoes were in the Aga and the vegetables had been prepared, Claudia took a look outside. The snow had stopped falling, their footsteps on the driveway had been completely obliterated, and above her a myriad stars shone in a black velvet sky.
Nick came up behind her and looped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against him and nuzzling the back of her neck through her hair. “If it stays clear, we’ll make that snowman tomorrow, shall we?”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she said, turning around in his arms for a kiss.
* * * * *
The sign they’d seen outside the church had said the candle-lit procession would start from the village green at 6pm.
In one of the kitchen cupboards, Nick had found a supply of candles and two lanterns like the ones in the porch. They cast a yellow light over the snow-covered driveway and illuminated the large snowman that they had spent most of the morning making. His dark, stone eyes regarded them solemnly over his jauntily-angled nose made out of a spare carrot. Claudia smiled at their construction. He’d taken so long to make mainly because they’d broken off for frequent snowball fights and hot drinks, as well as a tasty lunch of cold beef accompanied by bubble and squeak.
Claudia had made a chicken casserole for their supper and popped it in the oven just before they left to make their way by road to the middle of the village. It looked like no more than a couple of vehicles had braved the weather since the snow had come down, but by the time they reached the village green, a cluster of people were already gathered around a tall spruce tree adorned by cheerfully winking multi-coloured lights. Amidst the throng of people, Claudia recognised Cara and her husband. Darren Cooper, better known to anyone who worked in the ARC as Kermit, smiled shyly as they approached.
“Hello, Miss Brown, Professor.” Kermit was another one who didn’t believe in using first names, even off-duty. He bounced his daughter on his hip and said, “Say hello, Beth.”
The child smiled even more shyly than her father and promptly buried her face in his chest.
“She’s growing,” Nick said. For a single man, he was remarkably comfortable around children and Claudia knew it wouldn’t be long before Beth was riding on Nick’s hip rather than her father’s and giggling happily. She’d seen Nick work his magic before.
“She’s a holy terror these days,” Cara said, smiling at her husband and daughter. “Is everything all right at the cottage?”
“It’s wonderful, thank you,” Claudia assured her.
A few minutes later, someone handed around a sheaf of printed papers and then, with practised harmony, the group started off with a rendition of the beautiful, if somewhat mournful, Lyke Wake Dirge.
“This ae nighte, this ae nighte,
Every nighte and alle,
Fire and fleet and candle-lighte
And Christe receive thy saule.”
She was familiar with both words and music from the version by Pentangle and as the group moved off, Claudia and Nick both joined in, walking next to Cara and Kermit as they all tramped through the snow in the direction of the church. Around them, lanterns and candles lit the darkness, delighting the children, who kept dashing on ahead, extinguishing their flames, and then running back for them to be re-lit.
Lyke Wake Dirge gave way to the more cheerful verses of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, something for which neither Claudia nor Nick needed to consult their song sheets.
Two teenagers muffled in coats and buried so deep in scarves and hats that Claudia was hard pressed to make out that the sentinels were in fact both female flanked the ornately carved main doorway. They carried lanterns held high on wooden poles, and welcomed everyone inside the church with a bright smile.
Only the playing of the organ was lacking as the group broke into the next carol and the strains of The Holly and the Ivy rang throughout the ruined building. After that, the chosen carols were a mix of old and new. According to Cara, only the opening carol, Lyke Wake Dirge, and the closing one, Once in Royal David’s City, a song that Claudia remembered loving from carol services during her days at boarding school, remained the same every year. Like Nick, Claudia held no particular religious beliefs, but she did respect the beauty of the words and music, and in a setting as ancient as the ruined church of St Mary and St David, it was impossible to remain unmoved.
Tears prickled at Claudia’s eyes when she remembered those that the anomaly project had been unable to save, despite their best efforts, and she hoped that somewhere those left behind would find some comfort at a time of year that must have felt almost impossibly bleak without their loved ones.
At her side, Kermit caught her eyes for a moment and Claudia could see tears shining in the young soldier’s eyes and she knew that he was thinking of the comrades he’d lost. Kermit, in his early 20s, was the baby of the unit, and it would be easy to mistake his youthful good looks for inexperience, but he had worked in some of the world’s cruellest wars, as well as having faced countless dangers from the past during his involvement with the anomalies. He smiled at her, and hugged his wife and daughter close. Claudia smiled back.
When the final notes died away, flasks of mulled wine were brought out and tins of mince pies passed around. After that, people started to drift back to their homes and the flicker of candlelight could be seen at some distance across the darkened fields.
Claudia stood outside the church looking up at some of the fantastic creatures in the stone bestiary, and wondered what the masons had might have seen to enable them to have come up with some of the stranger ones. The church had already been in existence when an anomaly had opened in the middle ages, bringing men through to the present day. It was by no means impossible that the men who had carved the figures on these corbels had been inspired by animals or birds from another time.
“I bind unto myself this day
The virtues of the starlit heaven,
The glorious sun’s life-giving ray,
The whiteness of the moon at even,
The flashing of the lightning free,
The whirling wind’s tempestuous shocks,
The stable earth, the deep salt sea
Around the old eternal rocks.”
The words were quietly spoken, the r on the final word rolled softly in a way that warmed Claudia as effectively as the mulled wine had done.
“That was the nearest my Gran ever got to a prayer,” Nick told her. “I liked it because it mentioned rocks. She never minded me filling the house with fossils.” He took Claudia’s hand in his. “Thank you for putting up with me. I know I don’t tell you this anywhere near often enough, but I do love you, Claudia Brown.”
Claudia felt tears prick at her eyes again. “It’s no hardship, I can assure you. And I love you, too, Nick Cutter. Thank you for a perfect weekend.”
* * * * *
As the final lantern lights were carried away across the fields, for a few moments, another light shone with the brightness of every star in the night sky, but this light was inside the church, not outside it. In the ruined nave, watched by one of the church’s carved green men, staring down from one of the remaining stone pillars, a ball of diamond light spun slowly in the air.
In front of it, a hare sat on its haunches, staring in surprise at the darkness and the snow on the ground. Only a moment ago it had been surrounded by warmth and sunlight, not the cold, wintery light that now played on the trampled snow.
The hare scratched its ear with one powerful hind leg. This was not a world that held much appeal. It would take its chance with the hounds rather than search for food in a wintery world.
Moments after the hare had hopped back through to its own time, the anomaly closed, leaving no trace of its passing.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-12-27 05:54 pm (UTC)Do I recall correctly visiting that church? *g*
no subject
Date: 2012-12-27 08:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-27 06:50 pm (UTC)Which of course is exactly what this lovely story is. The details are wonderful and it has just the right British vaguely secular/vaguely two thousand years of random traditions Christmassy feel to it that really captures the season for me (at any rate).
Like luka, I also wish to posses this cottage. Possibly also with Cara on hand to provide meals.
I was reading it waiting for the anomaly to appear because, you know, this is anomaly response folk on holiday but I adore that anomaly at the end. It seems so in keeping with everything that has gone before.
Thank you so much!
no subject
Date: 2012-12-27 08:32 pm (UTC)As I said to Laka, the cottage is a product of my imagination, but the church is real, although it's not a ruin.
You can visit the church at Kilpeck in Herefordshire. The doorway and the decorated corbels are all exactly as described, and the dog and the bunny are the ones in this icon.
LOL, it was nice to break with expectation re the anomaly, but I did want to leave some suspense. *g* The anomaly appearing off-screen, so to speak, was my compromise.
I suspect we share the same sort of feelings about Christmas and I do like the traditional side of things, so I'm glad it seems to have been pitched right.
no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 04:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 05:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-27 08:14 pm (UTC)I love cottage fic, as much as I love watching Escape to the Country on TV, with beautiful cottages and scenery/counties *happy sigh*
no subject
Date: 2012-12-27 08:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-27 09:05 pm (UTC)The slow buildup, the comfort Nick and Claudia feel and show with each other, the seldom-found calmness were so healing.
And a perfect ending, with the anomaly sending out a hare instead of something wicked.
Terrific tie-in with the carvings!
no subject
Date: 2012-12-27 10:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-27 10:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-27 10:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-27 10:22 pm (UTC)The gorgeous little scene with the hare coming through the anomaly and being all confused at the end was particularly lovely.
no subject
Date: 2012-12-27 10:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-27 11:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-27 11:14 pm (UTC)*purrs*
no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 10:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 12:29 am (UTC)xxxx
no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 10:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 01:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 10:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 03:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 10:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 05:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 10:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 02:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 02:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 03:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 05:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 04:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-28 05:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-29 12:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-29 11:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-29 12:59 am (UTC)Gorgeous!
no subject
Date: 2012-12-29 11:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-31 10:09 am (UTC)What a beautiful, beautiful story. I was very moved.
Well done Nick for finding such an amazing place to go, and yay Cara and Kermit and Beth!
I loved it <3
no subject
Date: 2012-12-31 03:16 pm (UTC)Thank you :)
no subject
Date: 2012-12-31 08:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-02 09:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-06 02:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-06 02:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-06 10:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-07 01:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-22 04:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-22 05:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-28 03:44 pm (UTC)I'm quite enthralled! That place sounds absolutely wonderful, does it exist? I felt that Claudia's mind wasn't the only one being broadened.
Your writing is truly fabulous and captivating, Fred. You painted a wonderful picture here. The poem was lovely too and as for the hare at the end.
Utterly superb. A great read. :)
no subject
Date: 2013-01-28 04:55 pm (UTC)*hugs*
I was feeling a bit down about my writing today, but your lovely comments have been a real pick-me-up!
Yes, the church is real, but it's still intact, not a ruin. All the carvings described are real. The church if one of the most decorated in England. And the dog and the bunny carving in my icon is from there.
It's in a village called Kilpeck, not far from Hereford.
no subject
Date: 2013-01-28 05:52 pm (UTC)I'm pleased I was able to help pick you up! XD I know how you feel, we all get like that with our writing, I know I do, but rest assured wonderful Hound, that story was a joy to read!
Your writing (yes when I do get round to reading it! ;) ) is of top quality!
You rock!
That icon is of the actual bunny and pup? That is so cool! And that church, I'm going to have to visit it one day! XD
no subject
Date: 2013-01-28 07:57 pm (UTC)Yes, this is a photo of the actual carving on the outside of the church.