Disclaimer: I don't own so please don't sue

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Lord Havelock Vetinari winced slightly as he lowered himself to the uneven roof of the bakery. Wistfully he recalled the days when an easy jaunt around the rooftops took no more toll than a stroll through the park. He was, ye gods, was he really forty-three already?

The trouble was his creaking knees and aching back only proved the point he had ignored for so long. He was not going to live forever- and who could he trust to run the city when he was gone. Vetinari knew he ought to find and heir, so here he was scouring the middens of Ankh-Morpork when he could be in his not quite warm or cozy, but at least better than out here, office.

He quickly moved through the city, taking a shortcut through the slums, the dirty and rickety buildings proving more of a challenge than he anticipated. As Vetinari passed over one particularly unstable building his foot caught a loose tile. Falling heavily he froze, listening for sounds of discovery, his eyes alert.

Sure enough movement caught the corner of his eye. A man was weaving an unsteady way home. The man was large but mostly with muscle that had gone into decay. Vetinari was willing to bet that his eyes were the bloodshot eyes of a heavy drinker, his walking betrayed the rest. Slowly the man stopped and finished off the bottle he held in his paunchy fist. Dashing it to the cobblestone streets he watched it shatter with satisfaction before entering the house Vetinari perched on, massaging his sore ankle.

"Where'sh my shupper?" came a bellow from the house. "Dammit girl! A man needsh to eat!" Vetinari heard a rattle of cutlery and plates, and the dull clunk of something set on wood.

"What do you call this mesh? Not fit for pigsh, ish not!"

"It's all we have da." this voice was soft and light but with a hint of steel hidden deep within it. Intrigued Vetinari crept over to a crack in the roof and peered down.

The room was a neat version of a dump. The wooden table had only three legs, and was propped up by a stick for the third. The wobbly stool the man was sitting on was the only chair in the room. A mess of rags had been piled up for a bed by the rickety tin stove, which had lost a door and gave feeble warmth. The cleanest of all the rags was spread on top of the huddle of children who were sleeping there. A broken bedstead with a corn husk mattress stood opposite the other corner and was covered with a slightly nicer blanket. A wooden shelf was the last of the contents of the room. It housed a box which had strands of unspun wool sticking out, a small collection of whittled and partly carved figures, and a small measure of food which was practically gone.

A girl, no more than 19, was standing by the stove, staring at the plate she had placed in front of her father. She was tall and almost skeletally thin, her gaunt looks attributed to the many meals she had missed. Her long and lank brown hair hung around her pallid face, but her hard blue eyes looked daggers at her father with thinly veiled hate and contempt.

"The rent is due tomorrow, as well as the last of your gambling debts. I'll need all of your paycheck to cover them." She consulted a small blue notebook she produced from a threadbare pocket. "We've barely enough as is."

"Don't be telling me what to do girl, not in my own house! The money's not yours!" Anger made him sober as he stood threateningly over her. "Your place is just to watch the little ones!"

"My place is all that keeps this family together and off the streets."

"Well perhaps we would do better if you went out on the streets and earned your money that way."

The girl stood as if she had been slapped. "You would sell your own daughter to the wolves so long as you could keep your drink?"

"Aye." Without another word he stamped over to the big bed and fell down on it heavily, turning his back on his family and the wretched hate on the face of his daughter.

Slowly Vetinari edged off the roof and digging through his pockets found a handful of coins. Leaving them on the doorstep he knocked lightly before melting away into the shadows. He watched the girl come out and find them, he saw her search for her mysterious benefactor, and he heard the thanks she called out into the night air; a slight smile playing about his lips before he crept off into the darkness.