Author: Ithilwen C. Malfoy
Rating: PG
Warnings: Implied slash – V/V
Spoilers: Feet of Clay
Feedback: is my opium. Please give generously.
Notes: takes place immediately after Vimes leaves the Oblong Office in 'Feet of Clay'. Read pages 394-402 in the paperback edition and you'll see what I mean.
Disclaimer: Characters property of Pterry, fic concept property of fic author. No financial gain, etc. ad nauseam
Watching the Watch
Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
It was certainly a tricky question, but not, on consideration, an entirely unanswerable one.
It was also, of course, a matter of more than simply guarding the guards and watching the Watch. But the words had fallen so easily into place and it would have been a shame to spoil their curious symmetry. Especially in the presence of Sir Samuel Vimes.
Ah, yes. Vimes. The man – indeed, the only man – whose very existence seemed to challenge the carefully arranged geometry of the Patrician's city, and who took delight in picking holes in the Patrician's well-constructed cloak of dark green diplomacy. Not that you'd ever know it to look at him. No; Vimes' infuriating ability to use blunt incomprehension as an offensive weapon rested largely on the many meanings inferred by the phrase 'yes, sir'. Which, more often than not, meant 'no, sir', and sometimes just meant 'sir', which, generally speaking, boded worse.
Having just watched Vimes make his unnecessarily dramatic exit, Vetinari had, on the whole, been pleased with his performance. He had even allowed himself a little sigh, which he thought was a particular stroke of genius, even if it had been just for Drumknott's benefit. But it was one of the more useful intricacies of the Morporkian rumour mill that even a sigh in a private room of the Patrician's palace could be the talk of the city by lunch time the next day. Not that Vetinari had any intention of letting this filter down to street level. No; that sigh was meant for one pair of ears only (excluding those in between, by which it would have to be intercepted and passed on. But these would be the types of ears belonging to the upper echelons of the servant classes – Drumknott and the Ramkin butler, for instance – which made it an unfortunate, though tolerable, necessity).
From his office window Vetinari watched Vimes exit the palace gates and, after a brief argument with the sedan chair bearers, begin the long walk back to Scoone Avenue. Vetinari had to admit admiration for a man who, despite being a Duke of the city and richer than many of the lesser nobles put together, preferred to walk the streets in cardboard-soled boots. Which was part of the reason he had given Vimes the sedan chair in the first place.
Vetinari drew himself back to the matter in hand. He calculated how long the whole business would take and smiled. Within a week, the butler would be tactfully informing Sir Samuel during breakfast that there were rumours circulating at the palace. Even if the natural ebb and flow of information in and out of the Patrician's palace was at its slowest, whisperings would soon reach the Commander of the Watch that the Patrician was helpless to resist the very particular wiles of Samuel Vimes.
Vimes would dismiss the idea in a moment, of course, but that was really not the point. Because every time he stood in the Oblong Office before Vetinari's desk, he would wonder, if only for a second, and that would be enough. Vimes was a man of extraordinary discipline, but Vetinari would drop a subtle – almost imperceptible – double entendre into the conversation, or hold Vimes' gaze for slightly too long, and he would see the flicker of uncertainty, and that would be enough, too.
And if, Vetinari considered carefully, if Vimes were to… take the matter into his own hands, as it were… there was nothing to say that Vetinari could not take a little of what might be on offer.
Vetinari watched Vimes trudge off in the direction of Scoone Avenue and smiled to himself.
Vetinari custodiet ipse custos. And, after all these years, it was beginning to pay off.
Quis custodiet ipsos custodes – (Who guards the guards themselves?) 'Who watches the Watch?'
Vetinari custodiet ipse custos – (Vetinari guards the guard himself) 'Vetinari watches the Watchman'