the duke of wellington’s man

People had taken to calling Strange “the Duke’s magician,” or sometimes “the Duke of Wellington’s man,” sometimes in a tone that was impressed, respectful; sometimes in a tone that implied something slightly different. As though, Grant thought, Strange were Wellington’s possession, as though he were a particularly prized bit of weaponry— something the Duke might cosset and then use to kill, something he doted upon and then turned demanding towards; something he saw as his tool— or toy, to do with as he pleased.

Title: the duke of wellington’s man

Author: halsinator

Characters: Colquhoun Grant/Jonathan Strange/William De Lancey & Duke of Wellington

Summary: The Duke of Wellington makes a… sandwich.

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Bonus crackfic

The Bird Hour

Macdonnell reported that Strange had been insensible since shortly before they had closed the gate at Hougoumont. It was not the case that Macdonnell’s own account was really all that coherent; he was spattered in blood still, knee-high with mud, and dazed, and Grant expected that he would shortly require a good deal of brandy if he were to continue functioning. Some of what he said could have been mistaken for raving, but Grant knew that it was not— bodies torn and flung about by ivy strands, a great strangling hand that rose from clay to crush a French sous-lieutenant… “And then,” Macdonnell concluded, “we had got the gate closed, and were quite occupied in killing all of the Frenchmen.” Grant could still smell the blood. It was very heavy in the air. “To be frank, sir, Mr Strange was— I did not think he had survived.”

Title: The Bird Hour

Author: kvikindi

Characters: Colquhoun Grant/Jonathan Strange

Prompt: I can’t be the only one thinking wallsex with magical vines during that scene in Waterloo…right?

Summary: After Waterloo.

“Grant felt once more in thrall to him: impelled to protect him, as though Strange were a territory in a country that he had been ordered to defend. Unfair, damned unfair that he should feel so. Strange was not his charge; and yet…”

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Wherein The Duke of Wellington Acquires the Taint of Magic

The City of Brussels is in a state of barely constrained panic, and with good reason. After lunch, Strange had used magic to observe the enemy, as he has been asked to do on a daily basis. The protective warding that hides the French Army’s location remains infuriatingly in place, and Strange would be using his time to find a way around it, if only he hadn’t been ordered to attend the Duchess of Richmond’s ball this evening. However, two things had been clear from the afternoon’s scrying: French troops are being deployed, and they are being deployed rapidly.

Spirits at the ball are high but there is a nervous tension in the air. Strange feels it, like the rippling of magic, in whispered conversations and suppressed hilarity. Whatever the fallout of this war, it will be a sombre turning point in European history. To throw a party at such a time is to tempt fate, and they all know it.

It occurs to Strange that if the enemy wanted to make short work of the British Army then this evening’s festivities would have been the perfect time and place to strike. Every officer that Strange can think of is in attendance at the ball. Indeed, the only man missing appears to be the Duke of Wellington himself.

Title: Wherein The Duke of Wellington Acquires the Taint of Magic

Author: Frances Houseman

Characters: Jonathan Strange/Duke of Wellington

Summary: It is well after midnight and becoming rather un-fashionably late when The Duke of Wellington finally arrives.  Strange shudders as he always does when Wellington makes an entrance, ever since their private interview at Maria del Porto.

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Perhaps I am too tame

It took several months for the average party of English travellers undertaking the Grand Tour to reach Venice. Largely considered to be the jewel in the crown of the tour, the very apex of Italianate art and decadence, tourists longed to gaze upon Venice with that rather thrilling mix of awe and distaste.

Major Colquhoun Grant was, by the standards of these travellers, making a rather hasty go of it across the continent, approaching the city after little more than two weeks. He did not stop at Paris or Genoa to marvel at the sights and absorb the culture, as was considered the done thing, but rather marched through the cities with a look of singular impatience, barely stopping for fresh supplies and a luncheon before catching the next coach south.

Title: Perhaps I am too tame

Author: cribbins

Characters: Colquhoun Grant/Jonathan Strange

Prompt: Grant goes to Venice to try to talk Jonathan out of this nonsense. Or is sent to deal with the dangerously crazy magician, since they were friends. He wants to save Jonathan. Jonathan sees he’s distressed and wants to comfort him but can’t. Just give me all the sad sad ruins of their friendship/moreship.

Summary: Grant sometimes had cause to wonder of why he would spend so much of his time and somewhat meagre funds tracking a mad magician across Europe. He was not responsible for the man, or if he was, it was merely by default. Certainly not a responsibility he should hold so close to his chest.

Read it on the jsmn kinkmeme

Read it on Archive Of Our Own