Monstrous Regiment double-drabble (guess what my favourite book is?)
Title: ...Without Fire
Rating: B
Characters/Pairing: Tilda/Magda
A/N: Post-Monstrous Regiment, in which Tilda and Magda live in Ankh-Morpork. It seems like such a logical move for them. 200 words. Not too funny.
Warning: Spoilers for Monstrous Regiment.


They talked to her at the Temple of Small Gods. They followed her home, the troll gods and dwarf gods, demons and spirits. Many of them were demonic, creatures of mankind's fears. She lit a candle for each, but they asked for a bonfire, they asked for a calamity. That was what fire wanted – more, higher, brighter. She closed her eyes and dreamed for them, her hands open before her in prayer (she would never clasp them again) – of the city ablaze, the end of filth and pain. Of power.

Magda held her as she prayed, Magda who hated all religions, some more than most. Magda was the reason the candles were all that illuminated the little shrines to the fire gods, and the blaze stayed in Tilda's head.

But gods are tricky things, and fire can come in many different shapes. The city begun to change. The carriages rumbled underground, like crackling embers. Semaphore lights illuminated the night in a thousand flickering columns. Tilda dreamed nightly of the laughter of Fingers-Mazda. Magda held her, accepting if not understanding. And Tilda began to dream of steam.

What emerged from the steam, here, in the city of cities, was the future.