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A little fic for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
moonlightmead
Mead, I dont know if you remember meeting a lovely writer called Jane (Rozel on A03) at WINK 2014, but she wanted to send you her best wishes.
She told me about the time she met a certain cranky actor at a small theatre meet. She had been helping with the catering and he became rather partial to her "edible gold edged" mince pies. Talking about it recently inevitably inspired a fic!
The Christmas Angel
Once upon a time in a far flung corner of the land, lived an old, grey haired man.
The old man lived all by himself shunning the company of others who he thought beneath him (though I do think he had a dog, though that might well have just been for show.)
Perpetuated by his own misery, the old man endlessly wondered what might bring him true happiness. On the surface, he had everything that he had ever wished for. Fame, fortune and glittering prizes were no strangers to him. Adored by those around him, he shunned their devotions. The attention of minions meant nothing to him.
So he carried on though his miserable life, still secretly searching for the one true Ambrosia which would make his life worthwhile.
It was on a Christmas outing (he couldn’t always shun such things), that he glimpsed the one thing that his life had sought. He met his Christmas Angel Rozel. She looked quite an ordinary lady really considering that she was an angel. She did have pink hair, but he could accept that. (Purple would have been quite intolerable of course).
Rozel the angel seemed quite indifferent to him at first, treating him much the same as everyone else. She had however, a secret weapon in her arsenal to lure his innermost desires and she was not afraid to use it.
When he saw the delicate golden edge, his heart fluttered and his tummy grumbled. The sugar frosted delight drew him like a magnet. He briefly checked himself, wondering if any animal life had suffered for the creation of such a delight. He shook away his doubts. A stiff session of yoga the following day would ease his guilt and it WAS Christmas after all.
Finding he had no self-control left to himself, he sank his slightly uneven teeth into the delicacy. The pie did everything it said on the tin. (Well the tin actually said Cadbury’s Heroes, but that was alright, he supposed).
Completely ignoring the loving care that Rozel had put into the design of the magical treat, and quite unable to stop himself, the old man fell on another pie like a starving cat. Within seconds, the delicately crafted prize was demolished in a spray of crumbs and spluttered mincemeat.
“You like those don’t you?” said Rozel knowingly.
The old man looked up, startled, his blue (or possibly green) eyes bulging slightly. He had never expected Rozel to speak to him and was quite at a loss as to what to do next. He did however desperately want another pie and he just knew deep in his heart that the concession was to have to speak back.
“Um, yes.” he squeaked, another plume of golden crumbs pervading the air.
It was quite easy after that. Rozel was obviously quite a wise and knowing angel, and after an hour in her company, realising that no harm had come to him, he felt rather proud of himself. The easy conversation also ensured he got that last highly coveted pie of course.
The man returned to his hideaway home, determined to share a little more of himself from that day forward. He did actually go onto make a much loved documentary which he let the minions watch. That kept them all very happy for a long time.
He never forgot Rozel and her golden pies and she never quite forgot him. Always watching over him along with her other angel friends, she often smiled when she thought of the winter’s night when she reminded him that he was just a simple man.
The End.
She told me about the time she met a certain cranky actor at a small theatre meet. She had been helping with the catering and he became rather partial to her "edible gold edged" mince pies. Talking about it recently inevitably inspired a fic!
The Christmas Angel
Once upon a time in a far flung corner of the land, lived an old, grey haired man.
The old man lived all by himself shunning the company of others who he thought beneath him (though I do think he had a dog, though that might well have just been for show.)
Perpetuated by his own misery, the old man endlessly wondered what might bring him true happiness. On the surface, he had everything that he had ever wished for. Fame, fortune and glittering prizes were no strangers to him. Adored by those around him, he shunned their devotions. The attention of minions meant nothing to him.
So he carried on though his miserable life, still secretly searching for the one true Ambrosia which would make his life worthwhile.
It was on a Christmas outing (he couldn’t always shun such things), that he glimpsed the one thing that his life had sought. He met his Christmas Angel Rozel. She looked quite an ordinary lady really considering that she was an angel. She did have pink hair, but he could accept that. (Purple would have been quite intolerable of course).
Rozel the angel seemed quite indifferent to him at first, treating him much the same as everyone else. She had however, a secret weapon in her arsenal to lure his innermost desires and she was not afraid to use it.
When he saw the delicate golden edge, his heart fluttered and his tummy grumbled. The sugar frosted delight drew him like a magnet. He briefly checked himself, wondering if any animal life had suffered for the creation of such a delight. He shook away his doubts. A stiff session of yoga the following day would ease his guilt and it WAS Christmas after all.
Finding he had no self-control left to himself, he sank his slightly uneven teeth into the delicacy. The pie did everything it said on the tin. (Well the tin actually said Cadbury’s Heroes, but that was alright, he supposed).
Completely ignoring the loving care that Rozel had put into the design of the magical treat, and quite unable to stop himself, the old man fell on another pie like a starving cat. Within seconds, the delicately crafted prize was demolished in a spray of crumbs and spluttered mincemeat.
“You like those don’t you?” said Rozel knowingly.
The old man looked up, startled, his blue (or possibly green) eyes bulging slightly. He had never expected Rozel to speak to him and was quite at a loss as to what to do next. He did however desperately want another pie and he just knew deep in his heart that the concession was to have to speak back.
“Um, yes.” he squeaked, another plume of golden crumbs pervading the air.
It was quite easy after that. Rozel was obviously quite a wise and knowing angel, and after an hour in her company, realising that no harm had come to him, he felt rather proud of himself. The easy conversation also ensured he got that last highly coveted pie of course.
The man returned to his hideaway home, determined to share a little more of himself from that day forward. He did actually go onto make a much loved documentary which he let the minions watch. That kept them all very happy for a long time.
He never forgot Rozel and her golden pies and she never quite forgot him. Always watching over him along with her other angel friends, she often smiled when she thought of the winter’s night when she reminded him that he was just a simple man.
The End.
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As to the cut - sadly, no, it's being a pain. Do you post in HTML or in - er - the other thing LJ does?
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Do all angels have pink hair? :-)
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A pink haired angel tempting the man-of-a-certain-age with her gilded pies is a 'sweet' tale indeed.
I also liked that there was a little moral baked into the story. *g*
Thank you!
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