locksmith - Freeform
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When Daenerys locks herself out of her house, wearing a towel only, the locksmith Jon must try very hard to focus on work. A Jonerys AU short story with original artwork.
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“Severus!”
She spun around, looking out into the forest with the single fixed point of light to guide her.
“Severus!”
She was starting to shake. From the cold or nerves, it was impossible to say.
“Severus!”
And then she heard it.
A low groan. Four muffled syllables that could have been her name.
She whipped towards the sound and saw him, lying in a pool of darkened snow. Hermione couldn’t tell where his dark robes ended and the blood began.
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Summary
In a little village on the coast, Alex Horne the locksmith has stayed late as the snow piles up outside. He's about to head home to his warm, comfortable, bed when the phone rings - who would need a locksmith at this hour, in this weather?
“Sorry!” Greg calls over the storm. “Are you the locksmith?”
The man holds up a bag, as if that were proof enough – but it’s dusted white and doesn’t tell Greg anything – as if he’d been in the snow for a while.
In fact… Greg looks around. The snow is tearing at his face and he scrunches his eyes to see in the ghostly white light of a snow-filled night – but the single track road to the cottage on the cliff has only his car on it. Instead, a rapidly filling track carved through it – knee deep – winds down towards the village over a mile away.
“Did you… walk here?” He stares at the man – not as short as he’d seemed bent over to look in the window – with astonishment. -
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- Part 79 of TM