A/N: Inspired by John Snow's POVs in Allan Wolf's poetic novel The Watch That Ends the Night. Amazing book, by the way.

All historical mistakes are mine, obviously.

That said, let's begin.


No one wants to become an undertaker.

Not even, despite public opinion, me.

It's not like any child — of any age or class — looks at his friends, or his parents, or his tutor, and says, "I want to preserve dead people when I grow up". It's never a dream of any child to even be around a dead person, much less poke around them and drain their blood and make sure they look presentable for the wake. The smell is dreadful. The job itself is unpleasant. It is generally very depressing. And it takes practice. But it's never something you really want to practice.

It's just something that happens to you, and all of a sudden you're there.