Big Big Girl
…a Discworld songfiction by dreamkin…
…song property of Emilia (is that how you spell it?) and characters property of Terry Pratchett…
Big Big Girl
Angua lifted the glass to her lips and drank heavily. The liquid was amber, and it boiled all the way down. She had forgotten what she had ordered, but she no longer cared. Angua wanted to get very, very drunk. For the first time she believed she might understand what old Stoneface meant when he said 'things were clearer when you looked at them through the bottom of a bottle'.
"Thame again?"
Igor peered at her, with what she assumed to be a concerned expression on his face, but was wise enough not to say anything more. She grunted, and a duplicate of the glass in front of her appeared, once more filled to the brim. She downed it in one.
I'm a big big girl in a big big world
It's not a big big thing if you leave me
But I do do feel that I do do will
Miss you much, miss you much
She knew she shouldn't be here, not in Biers, she should be on Patrol, doing her Duty. She grimaced at how naturally the capital letters fell into place. That was Ca-his doing. She didn't feel strong enough to refer to him by name, not even to herself, not yet. It was just too painful. She downed another glass helpfully provided by Igor, who put it on her slate. It didn't matter that she had never needed a slate before, Igor knew that tonight would not be a night for payment. He didn't mind. Angua was a good customer, unlike some of his other regulars. She always paid her debts.
Someone sat down next to her at the bar. Igor shuffled over, served him a drink. She didn't pay much attention, until she felt a hand on the small of her back. Stiffening, she turned to the unwise owner.
"Get. It. Off"
"Now, sweetie, didn't mean no harm now. Can I buy you a drink?"
"No."
"Y'sure?"
"Yes."
The man leered at her.
"C'mon sweetie…"
The sentence was left unfinished as Angua pushed the man over. It was a deceptively simple gesture, and as the man tumbled to the ground, the entire bar heard his arm make a sickening crack. Igor stared at Angua, not needing to say anything. She understood, and walked out of Biers, unconsciously slamming the door behind her.
I can see the first leaf falling
It's all yellow and nice
It's so very cold outside
Like the way I'm feeling inside
She looked up and down the road before moving – bloody copper's instinct, looking for trouble. It was hard to stop being a copper, she knew, but at that moment she would have given anything to forget all about the Watch. It was all too painful, and although she knew she had to think about it at some point, that point was not tonight.
Biers was situated in a discreet niche in an unmemorable road in the Shades known as Flea Lane. Years ago an old flea market had been a weekly occurrence on the road, she had been told, but that had stopped after they had all escaped and four streets had been infested, Ankh-Morpork taking such things literally. If you followed the winding lanes out you eventually came onto Whopping Street, which lead to the Cattlemarket. The area was not particularly notorious in any way; the inhabitants kept themselves to themselves. And who could blame them, when the local was Biers?
Angua began to walk towards Losing Street, unconsciously falling into Proceeding step. She stopped and grimaced. Yet another damn reminder of the Watch. Just what she needed.
Unexpectedly, a skinny man hurtled past her, clutching something to his chest. Shrieks of "Thief! Oi! Unlicensed thief!" followed him, and without even thinking about it, Angua gave chase.
I'm a big big girl in a big big world
It's not a big big thing if you leave me
But I do do feel that I do do will
Miss you much, miss you much
She wasn't Proceeding anymore, she was running, running with all the lupine grace she could gather whilst still in human form. The poor thief was losing ground quickly, but Angua wasn't thinking of the pursuit. Her mind was filled with … him. The memory of him.
It was raining; not usual Ankh-Morpork rain, which was a sort of resigned drizzle, but heavy angry droplets that hit the street like hail. They rebounded off her helmet, keeping a ting-ting-ting rhythm to her strides. Panting, the robber dived into a side street – was that Tallow Street? – but Angua kept running along Whopping Street at full pelt. The thief forgotten, she closed her eyes and exalted in the physical effort. It irritated her that she was unsure of the street names, he had known the names of all the roads and practically everyone in the double city, and though it had infuriated and amazed Angua before, all it did now was to bring his memory into sharper relief.
Panting, she skidded to a halt as she entered Humble Street. It was late, and it was dark, but the stench of the Cattle Market was ingrained and was as powerful as ever. Her head reeled. The alcohol and exertion and shock all jumped her simultaneously, leaving her dazed and weak. Struggling to stay upright, Angua rested an unsteady hand against the nearest house.
Outside it's now raining
And tears are falling from my eyes
Why did it have to happen?
Why did it all have to end?
It was no use. No matter how much she tried to block out the thoughts, the memories, she would have to face them one day. The point was tonight, after all. Angua leant against the wall and closed her eyes. Her mind flew back two days, to the last time they had been together.
~~~ He was on his break, she had just come off-duty and they were sharing breakfast in his room in Pseudopolis Yard. Rat with extra ketchup for him, and soya rat for her. His turn to buy breakfast, obviously. He had- No, thought Angua. Say his name. He deserves that.
She sighed….Carrot, had joked with her, something that didn't often happen. It hadn't been a very good joke, but to share anything like that with Carrot was something special. And he had patted her hair, and kissed her, and she'd felt happy. That didn't happen often either, but she had felt safe and, well, secure in his arms. And then to spoil it all, he had got a call from Vimes to investigate yet another attack on the Patrician, the mysterious death threats he had been receiving of late. So he'd shot off, leaving her feeling full and content. She should have realised it was too good to be true. ~~~
I'm a big big girl in a big big world
It's not a big big thing if you leave me
But I do do feel that I do do will
Miss you much, miss you much
She looked up. The moon was not full, although Angua felt, by rights, it should be. Instead, it was a slim crescent, winking at her maliciously. She spat at it, uncharacteristically, and didn't listen as her spit landed with a quiet splat across the road. Sinking to the floor, Angua felt her body begin to shake as the tears came. Forcing them back, she Changed to escape them. Clothes and armour fell to the ground unheeded. Wolves can't cry. Turning left, she headed up Pigsty Hill until she turned into Endless Street, the round road that encircled the city. Right would take her to the river, so she turned left again, and galloped along the uneven cobblestones. No one ever came down Endless Street, so at least she could be assured of privacy.
~~~ It had been half an hour later when she had got the call –Sergeants Colon, Detritus, and Angua, Corporals Littlebottom and Nobbs, and Constable Dorfl to the Patrician's Palace ASAP. Slamming on her helmet and grabbing the obligatory short sword, she had raced up Lower Broad Way and over the Brass Bridge like lightning. She had almost made it across when the explosion threw her backwards. A gigantic, strangely beautiful, cloud of smoke and fire mushroomed out of the roof of the Palace, and shrapnel rained down on the surrounding streets. Angua cowered under a hippo as the flaming debris rebounded off the bridge, bouncing ominously away.
After what seemed like forever, the onslaught finished, and Angua crawled out. The ruins of the Palace lay before her, like the discarded remains of some giant's meal. A thick powerful scent flooded her senses, the oh-so-familiar smell of fireworks and death. Gods, she had smelt it often enough a few years earlier, with the entire 'gonne' incident. But never then had it been so strong, so overwhelming. Staggering, she struggled through the wreckage, and searched someone who was not dead. This took time; bodies littered the street. ~~~
I have your arms around me
Warm like fire
But when I open my eyes
You're gone
She ran, and she ran, and she ran. The city streaked by in a multicoloured whirl, her nose failing to register the separate smells as she raced by. Rain soaked her golden fur and plastered it to her lean frame but it did not slow her down. The scent of the city filled her nostrils, a pungent brown odour that entered her head and made her feel giddy, but still she ran. She ran to escape: herself, her situation, him. He followed her everywhere, endlessly pursuing. Even still she could hear his honest, simple voice, see his innocent face smiling earnestly at her, smell the orange cloud that was so distinctive of him. And now, he was dead. Gone forever, to somewhere she could never follow. Finally exhausted, Angua slowed, then stopped.
~~~ It was a clerk she found, one of a hundred nondescript employees of the Patrician. "What…happened?" she gasped.
The clerk heaved great, urgent breaths, and replied
"Explosion…Patrician…ticking…Vimes, ran in…Patrician…followed…we all ran…hhoooh"
The clerk stopped to pump oxygen into his lungs.
"Yes? Yes?"
Desperate, Angua turned away, but was halted by the clerk's next words.
"Captain…Carrot…back into…Palace"
"WHAT?" ~~~
I'm a big big girl in a big big world
It's not a big big thing if you leave me
But I do do feel that I do do will
Miss you much, miss you much
~~~ It turned out, Angua discovered later, that some terrorist had made a new weapon, like the gonne but far deadlier. Known only as the bombe*, it made certain metals explode by compression. With cruel irony, it had been designed by the creator of the gonne also.
Angua had listened to the explanation with dead ears. Who cared? Who cared what had done it, or who had done it, or why it had been done? The only person who truly cared had been killed by it. Vimes had figured out the whole twisted plot, and had realised just in time what was going to happen. As the time release ticked away, they had run from the building, but Carrot had returned because he thought he could reason with the madman. A typical Carrot thing to do.
Vimes and Vetinari lived; Carrot died. As simple as that.
She had resigned from the Watch that night. ~~~
Angua had reached the river. The water gate allowed the Ankh passage into the city, but there was no bridge for a person to cross here. Changing back to human form, she sank to her knees, head in hands. Her dripping hair flowed through her fingers. She hadn't been able to say goodbye.
*Pronounced bom-ber, Discworld vocabulary not favouring silent 'e's
I'm a big big girl in a big big world
It's not a big big thing if you leave me
He'd never said it; he'd always just assumed she knew. And she'd been grateful for that really. She didn't need to be told. She didn't really want to be told. She wasn't the mushy, lovey-dovey sort. But still, just once would have been nice. Memory flipped up a card: he was going to say it when Gavin died, remember? But you didn't want him to. Some feelings were too huge to be felt all at once, too complicated for the mind to handle, even a werewolf's mind. What was it her mother had said? Never show your weakness, ever your strength. Yes that was it. Another typical Von Uberwald motto. Hmph. She would probably be happy to know, although Angua wasn't going to tell her. Not that bitch. So this is the boy? You betray your family for this? Yes, she did, and he was worth more than the entire bloody clan. She had come to Ankh-Morpork nearly four years ago to escape all that, and only Carrot had really accepted her. Well, there was the sword incident, but that was a misunderstanding. Everyone else had their silver spoons and assorted other pieces of cutlery, but Carrot had truly trusted her. And when you got right down to it, she was his, wasn't she? His dog.
Angua exhaled slowly.
He had been right though. She did know, and could feel the unspoken words pounding through her veins every time he held her. He had loved her. She had to hold on to that thought, else she would go insane. He had loved her.
The funeral was in two days time. Angua expected most of the city to turn up. She couldn't say goodbye there, it was too public, too impersonal. She would do it the best way she knew how.
She looked around the city he had also loved, tipped her head back, and howled.
But I do do feel that I do do will
Miss you much, miss you much…
