A/N: Well, here's the next chapter! Two reviews, but still a better
response than to my first post of this fic. I'm not entirely sure where to
go after this, am currently just basking in the fact of a chapter well
written (kind've XD), and having finally produced what this whole fic was
created for. ... Partially. If it works .... Maybe you should just go read,
yes?
Anyway, I'm thinking two more chapters, three tops. So tell me what you think, what you want, etc. etc. *grins* I don't want to have to beg!
And now, a word to our sponsors:
evanine: um ... yes. I've been getting there. And I'm sorry if you wanted more quotes. I think there's going to be less and less as the fic gets more serious. And it's really getting into the serious stage now. Sorry about the length. XP Just review anyway! XD
BellaShamharoth: Now that I think about it ... you're right. It is a wrong thought. I don't know WHAT I was thinking! XD But it seems to have turned out alright, yeah? Oh, and I like to guess either. But tell me who you thought at the end of this chapter. You might be right. ;D Oh, and seeing as you liked the increased chapter ...
Enjoy everybody!
Chapter 6: "May I Have This Dance ...?"
The banquet passed quickly and the food even quicker(1). After the meal was over the mothers watched their children eagerly and the fathers went off to corners to chat and throw occasional glances in the direction of the progeny as well.
The children themselves, or perhaps they would prefer the term adolescents, showed signs of nervousness and behaved generally in the manner of a herd, each trying to make sure they were neither leading nor trailing behind. Eventually, however, a few of the kinder adults lead the way onto the dance floor, making it possible for a few of the bolder children to follow without too much embarrassment.
Khye, who was leaning on the railing of the balcony overlooking the Hall, looked at Sam, who was leaning beside him. Then, carefully looking back down at the nervous dancers below he said, "You really should have started that off."
Sam sighed. "I know." He didn't need to voice the rest of the sentence, that it was expected of him as the oldest of the younglings and the future Duke of Ankh. That whoever he chose to dance with had a good chance of consideration as future Duchess.
"Oh well, Raoul has happily taken your place," Khye pointed out. "Maybe that will satisfy them."
"No," Sam negated. "Unfortunately it's me they require. The dancing hasn't really started until I go down." He chuckled mirthlessly. "Odd, isn't it? Thousands of years ago the bravest hunter in the tribe was allowed first choice of his bride. In order to gain that title he had to go out with a flask of water and a flint knife and he couldn't return until he had killed a leopard. Whoever returned with the leopard was eligible for marriage, and whoever had the biggest leopard got first choice. In effect you hunted out your wife."
Khye stared at him, unsure of what relation this had to the event they were currently participating in.
Sam continued, enlightening him somewhat. "Today the title's hereditary, the hunt is somewhat more civilly cloaked in guise of a dance, and somehow I think the majority of the young men down there would prefer to face the leopard." He sighed. "I know I would."
Khye looked at him incredulously. "You're not afraid of women are you?"
Sam smiled wryly. "It would be nicer if that was the answer. But that's not it, I'm afraid. It's just that -" he waved his hands around as though searching for the words, and as he did so Khye noticed the goblet he carried, "I don't want to perform some outdated ritual that quite frankly bores the living daylights out of me. I don't want to have my future wife decided on from one dance that, in the long run, isn't going to say anything at all about wether or not she's capable of running a household or managing an estate, or even if she has childbearing capacities! I just want the chance to -"
"Fall in love," Khye finished wryly, with one eyebrow quirked in curious disbelief.
"No." Sam shook his head, smiling slightly at the absurdity of the idea. "That's a fool's game, especially at our level." He shuddered slightly. "And worse than that, it might possibly come true!" They both cringed at the idea of a fairy tale ending. Fairy tales meant you were trapped forever. "I just want a chance to enjoy myself."
There was a pause. Khye wasn't really sure he understood.
"You mean you want to have adventure, to get in trouble, to spend a night on the town?" he ventured.
Sam shook his head. "No, that's all what everyone thinks I should do. I just want to do something because I enjoy it. Not because it's expected of me. Not because it has some deeper meaning." He gestured to the dance floor. "I want to go and dance with one of those girls because it would be nice to relax and take a spin on the floor, not because I'm interested in them or trying to curry favour. Not because my mother expects me to be friends with this family and my father wants me to avoid that one."
"You could dance with a commoner."
"You know where that would end." They exchanged a look and said almost simultaneously, "Fairy tale ending."
"No."
"No."
"Well," now that he saw the problem, Khye was determined to help his friend solve it. "I suppose -" he paused, trying to make sense of the thoughts he knew could help. "I suppose ... it's a matter of attitude, isn't it?"
"What?"
"Well," the boy struggled to explain. "Because of the way we're raised, we have almost a sixth sense about the social world, right?"
Sam smiled. He knew what his friend meant, but this was rarely a subject for discussion. "Yes."
Encouraged, Khye continued. "The twitch of a finger, an inflection or the lack of it, says worlds to us, yes?" He hurried on without waiting for validation or the lack of. "Even if we don't realise it in that way, we still automatically interpret all these signals, right?"
"Yes, but what is your point?"
"Well ...you could just give different signals."
"What?"
"Well, you have to dance with someone, otherwise you wouldn't still be here, and you can't just go down there, choose a girl and then not act accordingly, because that would be an insult."
"So what are you suggesting? I thought not acting accordingly was the plan?"
"No, it's a matter of approach. You can't show you know what you're doing and then misbehave, but if you went down there with this happy air as though you were just here to enjoy yourself, and didn't realise the significance of what you're doing, then you could get away with not acting as expected. Sure, you'd lose some face, but people would just assume you hadn't been trained properly, not that you were deliberately insulting them."
"Which makes me look like a right pillock."
"Or you could resign yourself to the altar right now."
Sam glared at his friend. Was there some other motive here ...? He pushed the suspicion to the back of his mind. His father and Khye's were good friends, there was no reason to believe the next generation couldn't be as well. "All right, I see your point."
"Excellent. The next question is, who are you going to dance with?"
"What?"
"Well, we want you to kind've wander vaguely up to her, but I suggest planning your target before hand is a good move. So, what about her?"
"Too fat."
"Her?"
"Too thin."
"Her?"
"She's just a little girl!"
Khye sighed to himself. He couldn't understand what was wrong with his friend. It couldn't be that he was backing out, once Sam made up his mind he was loathe to change it. But it seemed that none of the girls here could satisfy him. This could take a long time.
"Her?" he continued.
"Flat-footed."
"Her?" Khye pointed to another at random. Sam grimaced. This really was too much, Khye didn't appear to have any taste at all. Of course, he had no idea that Sam wasn't really interested in any of these girls. The second Khye had suggested his brilliant idea that Sam just go out there and have fun, Sam knew that would be impossible with any of the female partners presented to him. He had grasped that almost as soon as he walked in. Because, in Sam's estimation, none of these girls could dance. And if Sam was going to enjoy himself, he wanted to do it with a truly great dancer.
Unfortunately none seemed to be presenting themselves. Now if only he lived in Quirm, where the girls were said to be as fluid as water! Alas, no.
Rebuffing another of Khye's choices, Sam's eyes wandered over to his father. Now, there was an idea! But no, it would never work. Sighing, he attended Khye's voice once more, and quickly gave a negative to the horrible lass in the lavender frock. This could take a long time...
**(1) Unsurprising considering the amount of wizards attending.**
"...and so really sir, this is all a very advanced form of mating ritual, or so it's been explained to me," Carrot finished.
"Really?" Vimes was astonished. He'd never realised his wife and all those interchangeable Emma's could be this devious. "And they've all planned it out just like that?"
"Oh no, sir, it's not a conscious thing, they just act that way because they're programmed to."
Vimes raised an eyebrow at his Captain. He very highly doubted that the females that surrounded him didn't deliberately plan out and execute every single action just described by the unfortunate Carrot with an awareness and intensity that would terrify the average male. Carrot was probably earning himself sweetness points in someone's book by failing to realise this, but the sensitivity score would have dropped tremendously at the description of females being 'programmed'.
He shook his head and turned to Vetinari, who was sitting on his other side and staring with a bemused expression at the whirling couples on the dance floor. Despite his apparent inattention Vimes was certain he had heard every word of the conversation.
"What do you think then, sir?" he asked the taller man.
"That we are surrounded by lovely and efficient ladies who would not appreciate a slander to their name." He turned and almost smiled at Vimes. "And who I would not wish to slander."
Vimes nodded. He felt the same way, though in slightly cruder form.
"Of course, if what Captain Carrot suggests is true, then one wonders why it is that your son has not joined the festivities Commander," he added. "It puts quite a large hole in the Captain's theory, especially considering your wife was one of the principle organisers of this event."
Vimes looked around, surprised. He hadn't really been paying much attention to his offspring, who, though guarded in quite an over-protective manner for most of his young life, had, in Vimes' opinion, quite enough attitude to look after himself these days. Despite this he had been sure his son would be in the middle of things, soaking up the attention and eagerly following one of his favourite past times, dancing.
"I'll go look for him if you want sir," offered Carrot. "I think I'd better go and collect Catherine anyway." The young girl was enthusiastically eating the flowers set around the room.
Vimes nodded and settled back into his seat, feeling guilty pleasure at not being forced to get up and walk around. His body wasn't as fit as it used to be. Too many big dinners... He suddenly realised that Vetinari had said something to him, and startled, he quickly switched his blank expression on and turned back to the man who ruled Ankh-Morpork.
"So, do you know what to do?" asked Khye.
"I know. And anyway, aren't I supposed to not plan things out fully, in case it looks too contrived?" Sam grinned cheekily.
Khye rolled his eyes. "Get out of here you big lug," he grinned, giving his friend a push.
Smiling, Sam set off down the stairs, but subtly, so that few people noticed. His heart was thumping and he was finding it a bit difficult to breathe, but instead of suppressing it he allowed his cheeks to flush, his eyes to sparkle, and a lock of hair to fall rakishly over one eye. Fun. It must look as though he was having fun.
From up on the balcony Khye watched Sam thread his way through the edge of the crowd, not in centre enough to disturb things, but not as far away as to attract attention. He frowned as he saw Sam change direction, heading away from the girl they'd agreed on. As he passed by the drinks table Khye saw him hesitate, and was terrified for a moment that he'd stop for a bolstering wine. That would ruin everything. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw him pass it by, but his frown deepened as he realised a few people were starting to notice the young noble. *Slow down!* he mentally projected. Not that it did anything. And then his heart lurched as he realised, oh so much sooner than everybody else, just where Sam was heading.
Sam realised a few people were watching him, so he calmed himself slightly, smiled at them, and continued walking. Slightly suspicious they turned back to whatever they'd been doing, momentarily pacified. He knew Khye would have noticed the change in plans by now, but he hoped no else would have any suspicion of what he was going to do. Even if they did though, nothing could have stopped him at this point.
Working his way slowly around the room, he finally came to his destination.
Carefully he walked up the three steps to the slight recess where people could sit and relax. He was so careful the current occupants did not even realise he was there until he was standing in front of them. The other nobles, however, had noticed, and Sam could feel their eyes on his back. Ignoring them, he steeled himself and calmly met the enquiring gazes of the two men sitting in front of him.
Before they could say anything, he bowed slightly and extended his hand. "Lord Vetinari," he said as calmly as he could, "may I have the honour of this dance?"
Anyway, I'm thinking two more chapters, three tops. So tell me what you think, what you want, etc. etc. *grins* I don't want to have to beg!
And now, a word to our sponsors:
evanine: um ... yes. I've been getting there. And I'm sorry if you wanted more quotes. I think there's going to be less and less as the fic gets more serious. And it's really getting into the serious stage now. Sorry about the length. XP Just review anyway! XD
BellaShamharoth: Now that I think about it ... you're right. It is a wrong thought. I don't know WHAT I was thinking! XD But it seems to have turned out alright, yeah? Oh, and I like to guess either. But tell me who you thought at the end of this chapter. You might be right. ;D Oh, and seeing as you liked the increased chapter ...
Enjoy everybody!
Chapter 6: "May I Have This Dance ...?"
The banquet passed quickly and the food even quicker(1). After the meal was over the mothers watched their children eagerly and the fathers went off to corners to chat and throw occasional glances in the direction of the progeny as well.
The children themselves, or perhaps they would prefer the term adolescents, showed signs of nervousness and behaved generally in the manner of a herd, each trying to make sure they were neither leading nor trailing behind. Eventually, however, a few of the kinder adults lead the way onto the dance floor, making it possible for a few of the bolder children to follow without too much embarrassment.
Khye, who was leaning on the railing of the balcony overlooking the Hall, looked at Sam, who was leaning beside him. Then, carefully looking back down at the nervous dancers below he said, "You really should have started that off."
Sam sighed. "I know." He didn't need to voice the rest of the sentence, that it was expected of him as the oldest of the younglings and the future Duke of Ankh. That whoever he chose to dance with had a good chance of consideration as future Duchess.
"Oh well, Raoul has happily taken your place," Khye pointed out. "Maybe that will satisfy them."
"No," Sam negated. "Unfortunately it's me they require. The dancing hasn't really started until I go down." He chuckled mirthlessly. "Odd, isn't it? Thousands of years ago the bravest hunter in the tribe was allowed first choice of his bride. In order to gain that title he had to go out with a flask of water and a flint knife and he couldn't return until he had killed a leopard. Whoever returned with the leopard was eligible for marriage, and whoever had the biggest leopard got first choice. In effect you hunted out your wife."
Khye stared at him, unsure of what relation this had to the event they were currently participating in.
Sam continued, enlightening him somewhat. "Today the title's hereditary, the hunt is somewhat more civilly cloaked in guise of a dance, and somehow I think the majority of the young men down there would prefer to face the leopard." He sighed. "I know I would."
Khye looked at him incredulously. "You're not afraid of women are you?"
Sam smiled wryly. "It would be nicer if that was the answer. But that's not it, I'm afraid. It's just that -" he waved his hands around as though searching for the words, and as he did so Khye noticed the goblet he carried, "I don't want to perform some outdated ritual that quite frankly bores the living daylights out of me. I don't want to have my future wife decided on from one dance that, in the long run, isn't going to say anything at all about wether or not she's capable of running a household or managing an estate, or even if she has childbearing capacities! I just want the chance to -"
"Fall in love," Khye finished wryly, with one eyebrow quirked in curious disbelief.
"No." Sam shook his head, smiling slightly at the absurdity of the idea. "That's a fool's game, especially at our level." He shuddered slightly. "And worse than that, it might possibly come true!" They both cringed at the idea of a fairy tale ending. Fairy tales meant you were trapped forever. "I just want a chance to enjoy myself."
There was a pause. Khye wasn't really sure he understood.
"You mean you want to have adventure, to get in trouble, to spend a night on the town?" he ventured.
Sam shook his head. "No, that's all what everyone thinks I should do. I just want to do something because I enjoy it. Not because it's expected of me. Not because it has some deeper meaning." He gestured to the dance floor. "I want to go and dance with one of those girls because it would be nice to relax and take a spin on the floor, not because I'm interested in them or trying to curry favour. Not because my mother expects me to be friends with this family and my father wants me to avoid that one."
"You could dance with a commoner."
"You know where that would end." They exchanged a look and said almost simultaneously, "Fairy tale ending."
"No."
"No."
"Well," now that he saw the problem, Khye was determined to help his friend solve it. "I suppose -" he paused, trying to make sense of the thoughts he knew could help. "I suppose ... it's a matter of attitude, isn't it?"
"What?"
"Well," the boy struggled to explain. "Because of the way we're raised, we have almost a sixth sense about the social world, right?"
Sam smiled. He knew what his friend meant, but this was rarely a subject for discussion. "Yes."
Encouraged, Khye continued. "The twitch of a finger, an inflection or the lack of it, says worlds to us, yes?" He hurried on without waiting for validation or the lack of. "Even if we don't realise it in that way, we still automatically interpret all these signals, right?"
"Yes, but what is your point?"
"Well ...you could just give different signals."
"What?"
"Well, you have to dance with someone, otherwise you wouldn't still be here, and you can't just go down there, choose a girl and then not act accordingly, because that would be an insult."
"So what are you suggesting? I thought not acting accordingly was the plan?"
"No, it's a matter of approach. You can't show you know what you're doing and then misbehave, but if you went down there with this happy air as though you were just here to enjoy yourself, and didn't realise the significance of what you're doing, then you could get away with not acting as expected. Sure, you'd lose some face, but people would just assume you hadn't been trained properly, not that you were deliberately insulting them."
"Which makes me look like a right pillock."
"Or you could resign yourself to the altar right now."
Sam glared at his friend. Was there some other motive here ...? He pushed the suspicion to the back of his mind. His father and Khye's were good friends, there was no reason to believe the next generation couldn't be as well. "All right, I see your point."
"Excellent. The next question is, who are you going to dance with?"
"What?"
"Well, we want you to kind've wander vaguely up to her, but I suggest planning your target before hand is a good move. So, what about her?"
"Too fat."
"Her?"
"Too thin."
"Her?"
"She's just a little girl!"
Khye sighed to himself. He couldn't understand what was wrong with his friend. It couldn't be that he was backing out, once Sam made up his mind he was loathe to change it. But it seemed that none of the girls here could satisfy him. This could take a long time.
"Her?" he continued.
"Flat-footed."
"Her?" Khye pointed to another at random. Sam grimaced. This really was too much, Khye didn't appear to have any taste at all. Of course, he had no idea that Sam wasn't really interested in any of these girls. The second Khye had suggested his brilliant idea that Sam just go out there and have fun, Sam knew that would be impossible with any of the female partners presented to him. He had grasped that almost as soon as he walked in. Because, in Sam's estimation, none of these girls could dance. And if Sam was going to enjoy himself, he wanted to do it with a truly great dancer.
Unfortunately none seemed to be presenting themselves. Now if only he lived in Quirm, where the girls were said to be as fluid as water! Alas, no.
Rebuffing another of Khye's choices, Sam's eyes wandered over to his father. Now, there was an idea! But no, it would never work. Sighing, he attended Khye's voice once more, and quickly gave a negative to the horrible lass in the lavender frock. This could take a long time...
**(1) Unsurprising considering the amount of wizards attending.**
"...and so really sir, this is all a very advanced form of mating ritual, or so it's been explained to me," Carrot finished.
"Really?" Vimes was astonished. He'd never realised his wife and all those interchangeable Emma's could be this devious. "And they've all planned it out just like that?"
"Oh no, sir, it's not a conscious thing, they just act that way because they're programmed to."
Vimes raised an eyebrow at his Captain. He very highly doubted that the females that surrounded him didn't deliberately plan out and execute every single action just described by the unfortunate Carrot with an awareness and intensity that would terrify the average male. Carrot was probably earning himself sweetness points in someone's book by failing to realise this, but the sensitivity score would have dropped tremendously at the description of females being 'programmed'.
He shook his head and turned to Vetinari, who was sitting on his other side and staring with a bemused expression at the whirling couples on the dance floor. Despite his apparent inattention Vimes was certain he had heard every word of the conversation.
"What do you think then, sir?" he asked the taller man.
"That we are surrounded by lovely and efficient ladies who would not appreciate a slander to their name." He turned and almost smiled at Vimes. "And who I would not wish to slander."
Vimes nodded. He felt the same way, though in slightly cruder form.
"Of course, if what Captain Carrot suggests is true, then one wonders why it is that your son has not joined the festivities Commander," he added. "It puts quite a large hole in the Captain's theory, especially considering your wife was one of the principle organisers of this event."
Vimes looked around, surprised. He hadn't really been paying much attention to his offspring, who, though guarded in quite an over-protective manner for most of his young life, had, in Vimes' opinion, quite enough attitude to look after himself these days. Despite this he had been sure his son would be in the middle of things, soaking up the attention and eagerly following one of his favourite past times, dancing.
"I'll go look for him if you want sir," offered Carrot. "I think I'd better go and collect Catherine anyway." The young girl was enthusiastically eating the flowers set around the room.
Vimes nodded and settled back into his seat, feeling guilty pleasure at not being forced to get up and walk around. His body wasn't as fit as it used to be. Too many big dinners... He suddenly realised that Vetinari had said something to him, and startled, he quickly switched his blank expression on and turned back to the man who ruled Ankh-Morpork.
"So, do you know what to do?" asked Khye.
"I know. And anyway, aren't I supposed to not plan things out fully, in case it looks too contrived?" Sam grinned cheekily.
Khye rolled his eyes. "Get out of here you big lug," he grinned, giving his friend a push.
Smiling, Sam set off down the stairs, but subtly, so that few people noticed. His heart was thumping and he was finding it a bit difficult to breathe, but instead of suppressing it he allowed his cheeks to flush, his eyes to sparkle, and a lock of hair to fall rakishly over one eye. Fun. It must look as though he was having fun.
From up on the balcony Khye watched Sam thread his way through the edge of the crowd, not in centre enough to disturb things, but not as far away as to attract attention. He frowned as he saw Sam change direction, heading away from the girl they'd agreed on. As he passed by the drinks table Khye saw him hesitate, and was terrified for a moment that he'd stop for a bolstering wine. That would ruin everything. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw him pass it by, but his frown deepened as he realised a few people were starting to notice the young noble. *Slow down!* he mentally projected. Not that it did anything. And then his heart lurched as he realised, oh so much sooner than everybody else, just where Sam was heading.
Sam realised a few people were watching him, so he calmed himself slightly, smiled at them, and continued walking. Slightly suspicious they turned back to whatever they'd been doing, momentarily pacified. He knew Khye would have noticed the change in plans by now, but he hoped no else would have any suspicion of what he was going to do. Even if they did though, nothing could have stopped him at this point.
Working his way slowly around the room, he finally came to his destination.
Carefully he walked up the three steps to the slight recess where people could sit and relax. He was so careful the current occupants did not even realise he was there until he was standing in front of them. The other nobles, however, had noticed, and Sam could feel their eyes on his back. Ignoring them, he steeled himself and calmly met the enquiring gazes of the two men sitting in front of him.
Before they could say anything, he bowed slightly and extended his hand. "Lord Vetinari," he said as calmly as he could, "may I have the honour of this dance?"