Disclaimer: Terry Pratchett owns Discworld, I don't. Bummer. Ienska and several of the minor characters in this are mine, however.

NB: Ienska is pronounced with a long "I" at the beginning.

This story is set after Assassin's Bane which is, in turn, set before the Discworld novels (circa pre Keel Ankh-Morpork). I really didn't intend to do anymore with Vetinari and Ienska, but they seem to have caused a small snag in the Trousers of Time and I don't seem to be able to resist tugging at it, just to see what happens.

~

"I thought you said your father was an accountant?" said Ienska Tineshan, craning her neck back to take in the towers and high walls.

"A hobby."

"Ah."

It really was an impressive manor, if you could call anything with so many walls and spikes a manor. The main building was surrounded by a gigantic stone battlement containing only a single, arcing entrance. Which was currently closed and looking very forbidding.

"How exactly do we get in?"

"Ah. There should be a bell pull…" Havelock Vetinari ran his hands along the smooth stone of the wall to the left of the giant gates. Ienska watched in interest.

It had taken quite a lot of convincing on Vetinari's part to get her as far as his mother's free holding. (Mostly involving such convincing arguments as "I see, and with exactly what money do you intend to do this?" and "Ah, so you don't mean to change your clothes or sleep indoors.") Now that she was here, however, she found herself intrigued against her will. She really wanted nothing to do with Havelock Vetinari. She kept telling herself so.

Vetinari's hand slipped into a cleverly hidden alcove in the wall. After a moment, the deep sound of a doorbell meant to be heard throughout the grounds and through several stone walls if necessary, rumbled through the air.

"It's nice to know that some things never change," said Vetinari, drawing his hand back out of the alcove. "Ah, Witrow." The last as a man, dressed smartly in the garb of a butler – or valet, Ienska wasn't quite sure what exactly the difference was – appeared on the other side of the portcullis.

"Young Master Vetinari?" said the man with what sounded like genuine pleasure. "Her ladyship will be most pleased to see you."

"Yes, thank you Witrow. Could you please inform Mother of my arrival, and advise her that rooms should be made up for a guest?"

"Of course, sir. I shall see to it personally." He glanced sidelong at Ienska, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. "It will be my pleasure, sir." The man turned to hurry about his business.

"Oh, and Witrow?"

"Yes, sir?" Witrow paused just before ascending the stairs to the main entrance.

"Could you please open the gate before you go?"

"Certainly, sir. My apologies, just let me get the key…" He quickly made himself busy.

"You must excuse Witrow," said Vetinari, turning to Ienska. "He's not as young as he used to be. Mother mostly keeps him on for the companionship." He looked up at the towers, some of which seemed to be scraping wisps off the bottoms of particularly low clouds. "The old place is so empty these days."

Ienska glanced at him. There seemed to be something in his eyes. Grief? Regret? Wait a moment, this was Vetinari. That couldn't be right. She almost said something, but wasn't really sure what it would be. Something akin to "I'm sorry, was that emotion I just saw on your face?" seemed unfair. Or at the very least impolite.

Witrow finally managed to swing the gate open. It was silent, as if the hinges had been just recently oiled.

Ienska followed Vetinari through the archway. And stepped into another world.

Outside the walls, it was early summer, the fields were beginning to go golden and the sun was beginning to send a lot of heat down toward the general area of the Disc. It was quite a different story inside them. It was as green as early spring, tall shade trees casting cool shadows over much of the sprawling lawn and gardens. Everything seemed new and fresh.

"I see Mother has kept the gardens up," said Vetinari as the gate clanged shut behind them. Ienska glanced back at it wearily, the sudden sensation of imprisonment washing over her. "Come, we'd best hurry. No need to force Mother to wait."

The dark stone steps leading up to the grand entry way were polished until they gleamed in the mid-afternoon sun that filtered through the foliage. Witrow scuttled on ahead of them, pushing open the large double doors quite easily before turning back to face Vetinari.

"Her ladyship is in the large parlor. Does sir require anything at this time? Or for the lady?" Ienska almost glanced around to see what lady the butler was talking about.

"No, thank you, Witrow. I believe I remember the way."

"Of course, sir." With that the man scurried off.

The entryway itself was sweeping. Actually sweeping. Long, elegant wall hangings swept gracefully from the floor to the high ceiling, making the already large room feel like a curtained off section of an even larger enclosure. Old portraits, expertly maintained, lined the few areas not covered by the deep green material. Several arcing halls led off into other areas of the manor's main floor and a golden, and, yes, sweeping, staircase climbed up to the second level.

Ienska shifted uneasily. She had never been in anyplace half so grand and felt her tunic and breeches to be a little out of place. She was also very suddenly aware of the dust clinging to her boots and the mess her hair must be in after the four day walk from Ankh-Morpork to the Vetinari Estates.

"This way," said Vetinari, stepping confidently off down a side passage lined by more of the well preserved portraits.

The room at the end of the hall was airy and bright, filled with a more comfortable sense of formality than the entry way. A large window, filling almost an entire wall, flooded the room with warm summer light. Furnishings, in the shape of several low couches and high-backed chairs, were scattered throughout the room in small groupings. In one corner a piano stood, sheet music laying open before it.

A woman, previously seated on a low sofa near the window, stood as they entered, beaming happily.

"Ah, Havelock. It's so good to see you again!" She hurried up and embraced Vetinari and then stepped back, holding him at arm's length. "It's been such a long time! You look so much older, Havelock. I'd hardly recognize you!"

"Hello, Mother. I trust you are well." The woman nodded happily. And then she caught sight of Ienska. The warmth and intensity of her smile went up by ten points. At least.

"And who is this?"

"Ienska Tineshan, Mother. She will be my guest for a few days, if you have no objections."

"Oh, heavens, no!" Lady Vetinari put one hand over her heart. "So it's finally happened! You can't imagine how I've wondered about this moment." She looked Ienska up and down appraisingly. "My, she is a pretty thing, isn't she? Although," she stepped forward, forehead creasing slightly. "I think we shall have to do something about her hair and wardrobe." Her smile brightened once more. "Easily amended. Oh," she held the back of one hand dramatically to her forehead. "The excitement might be too much for me! My Havelock, engaged!"

Ienska's eyes flew open wide and her eyebrows shot up. Surely she hadn't just heard the woman say…

"And so much for a mother to do! I don't suppose you've set a date yet? No, of course not. How silly of me…"

Ienska turned to face Vetinari, jaw set and eyebrows still raised. He was holding the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

"Mother, I don't think you quite…"

"Witrow!" She turned apologetically to Ienska. "Please forgive me dear, but I'm dying to see what the book says about you." Witrow bustled into the room.

"Yes, your Ladyship?"

"Witrow, kindly fetch my book. And see if Cook can't make us up afternoon tea, please."

"Of course, your ladyship."

"Oh, my manners!" said Lady Vetinari as Witrow hurried off. "Please, be seated, both of you." She motioned to a couch – a rather small couch, Ienska noted – across from where she herself had been sitting.

"Mother, if you would allow me to explain…"

"Oh, Havelock, I know you must be just bursting to tell me how you met and fell in love," she placed her hand over her heart once more and sighed. "I'm sure it was perfectly romantic. But please allow your dear mother her little amusement first. Now sit, I insist." There was something about that voice, hidden beneath the sighs and sugar, that demanded to be obeyed. The two sat. As far apart as was possible on the small sofa.

"I simply can't wait to make your acquaintance, my dear," said Lady Vetinari, seating herself gracefully across from them. "I'm sure you must be quite special. Havelock has always had impeccable taste."

"Lady Vetinari," said Ienska, trying to sound stern and respectful at the same time. "I am not marrying your son."

"Oh, bless you, dear!" exclaimed Lady Vetinari. "The bride to be has jitters. Isn't that the sweetest thing you ever heard. Don't worry, my dear," she said, conspiratorially patting Ienska on the knee. "We all go through it. I remember before my own wedding, I was quite terrified." She stared dreamily out of the window for a moment.

"Mother, please…"

"Here's your book, your ladyship," said Witrow, staggering back into the room under the weight of an enormous volume, which he carefully laid in the lady's lap. "And I shall return with your tea directly."

"Oh, isn't this exciting?" asked Lady Vetinari, flipping open the book. "I absolutely adore Twerps' Peerage. It's the ultimate authority on everyone who's anyone on the Disc. Now, what did you say your surname was, dear? Tineshan? Let's see here…" Ienska noted that the Lady Vetinari had never thought to even ask if she actually was anyone on the Disc. "Tinyharm – no, that's too far…Ah, here we are, Tineshan." The lady was silent for a moment, reading. Her eyebrows slowly arched and a very small smile graced her features. She looked up. "Most interesting."

Ienska glanced over at Vetinari, expecting him to answer. Instead he was sitting, head slightly back, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What is that, your ladyship?" she asked, feeling that some comment was necessary. Lady Vetinari looked thrilled.

"It says here that the last known descendant of the Tineshan line was a Countess in pre-revolutionary Ankh-Morpork." A small shock ran through Ienska. She had only recently learned that there ever was a Countess Tineshan and had never truly digested the fact that even a distant relationship with her might mean noble blood. "No one knows exactly what happened to her, but it seems there are – or were, rather, they are quite old – rumors about an only son escaping out into the world and making his way as a commoner." Interested despite herself, Ienska leaned forward to look at the open pages in Lady Vetinari's lap. The lady was tracing the lines of a family tree with her finger. "Excellent breeding…I don't think even a couple hundred years could taint this blood." She looked up. "And mysterious, as well. Quite extraordinary."

"Mother…" said Vetinari, head still tilted back.

"Hush now, Havelock." Lady Vetinari closed the book in her lap and leaned forward, hands clasped in anticipation. "How did you meet Havelock, my dear? Eyes meet across a crowded room? Sparks flying through the cool night air?"

"Not really," said Ienska. Not at all. "He tripped over my feet on a busy street. In the afternoon."

"Ah," said Lady Vetinari, knowingly. "Cards dealt by Fate's hand, a chance meeting. How romantic! And how did you fall in love?"

"Actually, we're not…" started Ienska, but at that moment Witrow hustled in carrying the tea tray.

"Ah! Tea time," said Lady Vetinari, setting Twerps' Peerage aside.

Witrow quickly handed each of them a dainty tea cup full of warm, amber liquid and a small crumpet coated in golden honey.

"Eat up dear, you look half starved," said Lady Vetinari to Ienska. "Really, Havelock, you could have seen to it that the girl got proper nutrition on your way to visit. And a coach wouldn't be amiss next time, either, dear."

"We left in rather a hurry," said Vetinari dryly. "Mother, I wish you would…"

"Oh dear, I do hope you haven't upset any of the higher ups in the Assassin's Guild?"

"Of course not, Mother. I merely…"

"Mind your manners, Havelock. We will catch up on our news later." She eyed Ienska. "Right now I think your lady could do with a rest. Why don't you walk her to the third floor, turnwise bedroom? I believe Witrow has already made it up for her."

Vetinari sighed. "Yes, Mother." He rose, dragging a confused Ienska to her feet in a way that might have appeared, to Lady Vetinari, mildly affectionate. In reality, he was simply forcing her to move.

"Don't you think we should straighten this out?" hissed Ienska.

"I will deal with her," replied Vetinari, glancing over his shoulder. "Perhaps she will be more reasonable when we are alone."

"And Havelock, dear?"

"Yes, Mother?" Vetinari paused and turned.

"I want you to hurry right back. You'll have plenty of time to spend with Lady Tineshan later." Her eyes were glinting.

Vetinari glanced momentarily heavenward. "Yes, mother."

"There's a good lad."

Turning, Vetinari dragged a still protesting Ienska from the room.

Well, that's the first chapter. If anyone's interested in more, please let me know.