A Hogswatch Story
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For Hogswatch, there was nothing more Young Sam wanted than a Red Bandit dual-action suction-cup crossbow. He had been dropping subtle hints for a whole month leading up to the day, and yet, here it was, Hogswatch morning, and no crossbow under the tree. Of course, he hadn't unwrapped his gifts yet, but he had rather hoped the bow would have been displayed prominently in the tree, the package of suction-cup bolts, perhaps, nestled in the boughs underneath.
"Happy Hogswatch, son," Sam's father mumbled, slouching into an armchair and swirling the milk around in his glass. Sam's mother stoked the fire and smiled at the boy. The Watch Commander gestured to the presents. "Go ahead, kiddo, go to town."
Sam smiled delightedly and tore into the first package he saw with his name on it (for simplicity, he was 'Sammy' this Hogswatch). Sybil, having stoked the fire to her liking, moved over the couch and, after shoving over a semi-comatose Havelock Vetinari, who had been dragged against his will from the Palace in order to experience social interactions on Hogswatch, sat.
"A mail coach!" Sam said, feigning delight as he pulled the wooden model out of the box. It was rather nifty, really, but a crossbow it was not. He pushed it across the floor once or twice, purely for the satisfaction of the adults, and then moved back to the tree.
"How about you pick one for someone else this time, hm?" his mother suggested gently. Sam pulled out a gift for his father and lugged it over to the armchair. It was rather heavy, so naturally Sammy dropped it directly into his father's lap. Vimes groaned and winced, shifting the package over.
"Ye gods," he muttered. "Who is - Oh. Vetinari."
"It's a thesaurus," the Patrician said. "Enjoy it. I expect three different words for 'sir' by next week."
"How thoughtful."
"Oh, don't thank me."
Sam, oblivious to this exchange, had pulled free a package for his mother. Sybil opened it meticulously, folding and laying aside the wrapping paper as she went. He could barely contain his excitement when he spotted, behind it, a package for him that looked as though it could contain a crossbow. He waited most impatiently as she admired what turned out to be the latest in dragon-keeping protective wear.
"Oh, Sam!" she exclaimed, smiling widely, "it's lovely!"
"You're welcome, dear. Happy Hogswatch."
Sybil gestured to Sam. "Go on, Sammy, open that one up, I can see you're itching to." As Sam tore through the paper eagerly she turned to Havelock. "I'm sorry, I sent everything ahead to the Palace. Did you open it?"
"Mmmf. No."
"But it's Hogswatch!"
"I slept in."
"Until ten thirty?"
"It was glorious."
The Commander looked disgruntled. "I bet it was. I suppose, unlike those of us with children, who were up at five in the morning, that would be a luxury others could enjoy."
Vetinari waved a hand and took a gulp of eggnog, a glass of which had steadfastly remained with the man since his arrival. Vimes was not actually sure how much he'd had at this point, but he didn't seem much worse for the wear. "I had the dog."
"At five in the morning?"
"Three."
"You win."
"I went back to bed."
"You lose."
"When did we start competing again?"
"Boys," Sybil scolded. She turned her attention to Sammy, who was still staring in horror at the box he'd so happily opened a moment ago. "Sammy, what did you get? Isn't that the gift from your Aunt Sally?" Sammy nodded sullenly. "What is it?"
"I don't want to show," he said quietly. His father, looking up wearily, gestured to the boy.
"Go on, Sam, what is it?"
Vetinari took another swallow of eggnog. "Is this the same Aunt Sally that sent the stuffed pink pony doll last year?" Sybil nodded. "Hold it up Sam," the man encouraged, smirking. Sammy scowled.
"Oh," Sybil said, when the boy finally, grudgingly, raised the gift aloft. "Oh, how dear. Sammy dear, you must try it on right away!"
"Please do," Vetinari snickered. "It's so . . . fluffy."
Commander Vimes could hardly take his eyes off the thing. He blinked. "Sally knows he's a boy, right?"
"Sam!" Sybil said, frowning at her husband. "Sammy, go try it on right now."
"Mum, do I have to?"
"Yes," Sybil said firmly. "Hurry up, there's a good lad." Sammy plodded out of the room, dragging the gift dejectedly behind him.
"It's horrific," Vimes said bluntly, taking a drink of the milk. "I can't believe it."
"Now, Sam, Sally spends hours on those things every year! Sammy'll have to wear it next time she visits."
"He damn well won't! No boy of mine's going to be seen in something like that!"
" - Sam!"
Vetinari took a defensive sip of eggnog and nestled deeper into the couch cushions. Thankfully, the marital dispute was interrupted when young Sammy plodded unhappily back into the room, wearing the costume with nothing like pride.
"Oh, would you look at that," Sybil said, smiling widely. "She must have spent so long making that for you, Sammy!"
"Would you look at that," Vetinari echoed, slightly stunned. "It's . . . um. Nice?" Sammy frowned at the adults from under the pink hood. Sparkles glittered around the edge of the thing. "Is that supposed the be a cloak of some kind?"
Sybil had moved over to her son, examining the cloak in closer detail. "Oh look, she even did the Assassins' Guild logo on the breast! Oh, it's precious."
"I changed my mind," Commander Vimes chuckled as Vetinari visibly grimaced. "This is a great gift. Sammy, make sure you wear this next time Downey comes 'round, alright?" His son shook his head imperceptibly.
"I think Faustus would love it!" Sybil said, smoothing it out over Sammy's shoulders. Some glitter fell to the floor. "It's quite accurate, isn't it Havelock?"
"Oh yeah," Vetinari replied, continuing to fortify himself with eggnog. Vimes noticed happily that the man looked embarrassed to even be in the same room as the thing. "Stunning."
"All right Sam, take it off, there's more gifts for you to open," Commander Vimes said hurriedly. Relieved, Sammy practically tore the cloak off and threw it aside. Sybil moved back to the couch and thus the gift opening continued.
Twenty minutes later, the anticipation was over. Wrapping paper was scattered across the floor of the room, and all the packages had been opened. Sammy had quite the haul, and his gifts were sitting under the tree on top of the pink cloak. He was unhappy to note the crossbow was absent from their number. He had been most disappointed in Vetinari's gift - a big dictionary. The man had been his holdout for the crossbow - what else were crazy godfathers for? And yet, there was the dictionary, and no crossbow. His father sighed.
"So Sam, did you get everything you wanted?"
"Yeah, I guess," Sammy said slowly, not wanted to seem ungrateful. "Happy Hogswatch and thank you."
Sybil smiled gently. "Sammy, I know you wanted that crossbow, but your father and I agreed it'll lead to nothing but trouble. You might shoot your eye out or something, dear."
Vetinari winced. "Is there something wrong with this couch? Only something's been digging into my back the whole time." And, as if by magic, he produced another gift, wrapped rather messily in shiny black paper. "Oh, look at that." Sam's heart raced as he handed it over. "Looks like it's for you, Sammy."
As the boy tore into the gift, Sybil turned to him. "Havelock -"
The Patrician shrugged. "You're sending him to the Assassins' Guild in nine months, Sybil. How much harm can it do?" Sybil turned to her husband, expecting support, but saw him smiling as Sammy, with reverence, pulled the paper away from the box. The crossbow was displayed prominently on the front of the box. "Were you in on this?" she asked, slightly shocked.
"We may have discussed it at one point," Vimes replied with a noncommittal shrug. Sybil frowned but Vimes shrugged. "His Lordship's right - we're sending him off to a school for bloody Assassins in nine months; a suction-cup crossbow seems kind of minor."
Sybil sighed. "Well, I suppose you're right." Sam happily loaded the bow and looked up to his parents, joy practically radiating from his face.
"Can I go outside and try it?" he asked breathlessly.
"I guess," his mother said. "But don't forget your coat and shoes! And don't shoot your eye out!"
As the boy rushed from the room, Sybil leaned back into the couch. "Out of eggnog, Havelock?" she asked, as the man started for the door.
"It's noon," he replied. "I start vodka tonics at noon on Hogswatch."
"Ye gods man!" the Commander exclaimed. Vetinari shrugged.
"I have paperwork to do this afternoon. Copious amounts of vodka make it way more fun." He swerved from the room and the door shut. The Commander moved over to the couch with his wife.
"I never realized Vetinari was such a booze hound."
"Just on Hogswatch, dear."
The two sat quietly for a moment, in front of the crackling fire, until a cry from outside broke the atmosphere. Sam and Sybil looked to each other.
"Eye?" Sybil asked wryly.
"Eye," her husband agreed. And with that, they headed out to the back yard.
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