Chapter Two

Twist

A/n: Guess what. I realized this last night. This fic has a plot. Oh. My. God. *snaps out of it* Which means that this will be considerably faster than my other fic, which may never be finished. I may mention that this story jumps around between their youth and shortly after 'The Truth.'

CONCERNING FANS OF DRUMKNOTT: My deepest apologies, but I have a deep loathing of that particular character, and this will be made clear. If you have no sense of humor and therefore dislike the fact he may occasionally get a prank pulled on him, I have warned you. The same goes for fans of Wuffles.

Disclaimer: Twist does not know nor had ever met Terry Pratchett. She just really, really likes his books. He does not have her permission to come after her. After all, he is being very nice letting her use his characters. It would confuse her to go from nice to mean so quickly. And she would never, ever claim he 'took her idea.' What ludicrous.

She does not own 'The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood,' either. Am I done yet?

~

Fredrick Rust stormed out of his back door and into the private yard of the Rust property. His father, sometimes! Why shouldn't he be able to shoot servants for not putting his shoes the right way 'round? And why did the man have to keep dredging that up?

It wasn't even as if he hadn't been punished. They'd made him talk to the Patrician, and he was insane. As far as Fredrick had been able to see, it hadn't been murder; it was punishment. But Vetinari had called it murder the whole time. When he'd pointed this out to the man and that he himself might be considered a murderer the man had given his father sad look and told Rust Jr. to leave. Then he'd shouted and Lord Rust.

That, at least, was a consolation. As he crossed the line into the next yard, he gave the house occupying some of it a strange look. It had been abandoned since Frederick's birth but it was protected by the Assassin's Guild and the Patrician himself. Fred wondered vaguely why the old bastard would show any interest at all in such a trashy property. The shed behind was protected, too. Odd, that.

He wandered into the small woods separating the back yard from the hill that led down to common Ankh-Morporkian streets. There was a fire circle there, with a few rocks around it, presumably seats. He looked at them, puzzled, and wondered why he had been forbidden by his father to ever sit on any of them. They were just rocks. But there were initials carved into them, so presumably they belonged to someone. Not that that meant much in Ankh-Morpork. He bent closer and looked at the initials for the first time. HV, RR, SR, and FD. None of those initials were significant in any way to Fred, so he decided to go back to his room. But first he had to take a look at that shed.

~

The City Council was meeting. Or rather, sitting in the same room and refraining from killing one another. Currently Rust and Vimes were arguing about something. Everyone else in the Council, including Vetinari, had learned to ignore these arguments.

"Gentleman, please," Vetinari said, when he felt that it was at the point of becoming violent. Physically, that is. "I believe that any course of action involving Überwald at this time would be unwise." Vimes seemed relieved. Rust was enraged. "And now, do not let me detain you. Lord Rust, in my office, if you would be so kind."

The rest of the nobles filed out of the room as The Patrician and Lord Rust trod the worn carpets to the Oblong Office. Once inside, Vetinari checked the door to be shut and turned to face Rust. "What is with you lately?"

"You keep pissing me off, that's what it is!" Rust exclaimed. "We help to get you in office, Sybil and Downey and I, and you completely ignore everything I say."

Vetinari mentally rolled his eyes. Having your best friend since the age of three as the absolute ruler did not mean you always got what you wanted. "Rust, I am merely doing what would be smart at the current time. Going head-on with Klatch even if we have no current issue with them and asking Lady Margolotta to help with her vampire armies, which she does not have, speaking of, would not be a politically wise move."

Rust glared. "They'll get us one day. And then your girlfriend won't be willing to help because it won't be politically wise for her at the moment. They're just waiting for that, you know!"

Vetinari was actually very concerned, really. He wasn't showing it, of course. But when one of your closest, not to mention only, friends starts acting paranoid you don't take it lightly. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked, not showing the half of him that wanted to tackle the man and scream 'What is your problem?' in his face.

Rust did not move. After a time under Vetinari's gaze he merely shrugged.

"Alright," said Vetinari, suddenly acting the role of ruler again. "Go home. I'm sure you've more important things to do there."

Rust nearly screamed "Bloody hell, Havelock, you know what my wife and offspring are like! And you wonder why I'm so unhappy! My son hates me!" but he gave Vetinari a curt nod and strode out of the office. When he was gone Vetinari rang a small, silver bell and Drumknott clerky-walked his way into the room.

"Yes, sir?" He asked. He was sulking lately. Someone had taped him to his bed the other night, and the Patrician had ignored his pleas for justice.

"Could you please summon Lord Downey and Lady Sybil? Please extend my apologies for the inconvenience."

~

Ronald Rust stormed into the foyer of his house and slammed the door. It was empty, and dark. He stomped through the mansion and came out in the conservatory. It was blisteringly hot, the sun beating down on it all day and whatnot, so he cracked a window to get a small breeze of cool air. He slumped back into a chair and stared blankly into space. Behind him, his wife was approaching.

"Ronnie, dear?" she asked, cautiously. Are you alright?" She peered in and saw his posture and facial features. She tried to sneak away as quickly as possible. However, Rust had been educated at the Guild of Assassins, even if he wasn't hirable Assassin, and he heard her.

"Where's the boy?" he asked. The Rust family had six children, four of which were male, but she knew which boy he was talking about. The other three had left.

"He went out," she said. Her name was Caro Rust nee Perlking. Her family had been moderately rich, which was why Rust had married her. At first, his parents hadn't approved, but they'd warmed up to her after a time. She had been beautiful once, but now she merely looked like a forty-one year old woman who'd been beautiful at the age of twenty.

"Where, Caro?" he asked, sharply. She swallowed.

"I don't know." There was a barely perceptible sound, but it was definitely a growl, what little of it you could hear. "He didn't even tell me he left. I'm sure he'll be back."

"He damn well better be. He knows he ought to tell you if he's going somewhere," Rust's voice had taken on a flat, emotionless tone. Caro remained still and quiet. "What if you were taken ill?" There was silence for a time and Caro had almost left Ronald to himself when he looked into the next yard sharply. "What was that?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. She did, however, know. It was her son. And he was going to pay hell for being within ten feet of the damnable shed. "Probably a beggar or something, not to worry," she said, hoping he'd lose interest.

"Caro," he growled. "I know who is near that shed and it is not a beggar. He has crossed the line this time. And this time, Havelock will not help me." He rose to leave and Caro stepped forward. "You will stay here until I return," Rust said firmly. "And when I return you will remain in the house for the rest of the evening. Do I make myself perfectly clear?" he asked. Caro nodded.

"Yes." She watched her husband leave the conservatory in the direction of the shed. She hadn't seen his face the whole conversation, and she was terrified. Not only of what he might do to Frederick, but to her, and to everyone else in the house. She needed help, and she knew where to get it.

So she turned and ran.

~

A/n: And I'll leave you there, shall I? Hehe. I fear none of you because any of you who read this, like it, and write, have done this same thing to me once. And some of you leave it hang forever. Not that I'm mentioning any names or anything. *hums innocently*

You know, maybe I could just leave this for a month, and then have the whole thing written by the end of that month (this indeed is, I must say, the most entertaining thing to write that I've ever done.) and I'll post all of the chapters agonizingly slow. *thinks* Nah, I'm too nice for that. And I just can't wait to share things. See ya in a week, at most!