I am sorry to say the plot sounded better in my head than it is shaping up on screen and characters are taking on a mind of their own in my head (why is that not surprising?). Stay with me, about one more chapter to go.
Dwarvish here (another dialect, perhaps?) salutes Taiwanese gameshows, where the host cries jubilantly, "Come some music!" Or so I hear.
--
Angua peeked behind a sheet of paper, and then quickly covered the window up again. "Moon's out already," she told Cheery. "So the paper's working."
Cheery was carefully balancing arranging several large carrots around a very large carrot that was stabbed straight through the heart of a very, very large carrot cake and didn't answer.
A few other members of the Watch who had come in early were lighting candles and adding other finishing touches to the back room. Out of the corner of her eye, Angua saw Nobby sprint to a table, snatch some of the finishing touches away and run off again.
Vimes, who had been fishing carrots slices out of the vat of beer ("It's not a good idea, Cheery, it tastes odd now..."), made an incoherent sound best described as "Grrbbrrbbubble." Then he shouted, "I spent two hours on the squishi display!"
"Somebody fix that," Cheery mumbled without turning around. Everyone else in the room avoided eye contact with Vimes.
"Grrggrrbbubble," said Vimes, face turning red.
"I'll do it, sir," Angua volunteered reluctantly. She prodded a few pieces about with a chopstick, trying not to inhale too deeply. To take her mind off the fish smell, she asked Vimes, "Did you make these, sir?"
"Oh no," Vimes chuckled, "Sybil did. Courtesy of Flopwaddle."
She thought it'd smelled familiar. She poked carefully at wobbly, striped, spotted and extremely heavy squishi, "I've never even seen most of these... varieties before."
"Sybil calls it her Zen Platter of Mousefish, Zebrafish, Dragonfish(1) and Elephantfish," Vimes replied, carefully refraining from making any comment.
Angua tacitly agreed it for the was best. "Still no word of that missing jewelry?"
"None," Vimes growled. "And too many damn fish. Sybil keeps some monkeyfish in a bowl and I swear they hate my face. She says it's good for young Sam's education," he added with a sigh, indicating that indeed, this had settled the matter.
Angua's ears prickled. Her senses were at their sharpest at full moon. Someone was coming down the stairs.
"Carrot's coming," she hissed.
Cheery's hand stopped mid-air, holding a bit of carrot that had been artfully carved into a flower. Her mouth was a perfect 'O' in horror. "He can't come in! We're not ready yet!" she gasped. She was really taking this seriously.
"Everyone, turn around," Angua said, and she only had to say it once. There was a clang of armor, and then something pale and blonde streaked(2) out of the room.
--
Carrot came down the stairs.
"Hello, Angua," he said amiably. "Full moon, then?" Angua nodded. "Has Vimes started the budget meeting yet?"
Angua shook her head. Carrot gave her a scratch behind the ears, which usually annoyed her because it tangled her fur, but Carrot seemed to enjoy doing it, so she made an appreciative murmur. Then he said, "Come on, Vimes says the meeting is important so we musn't dilly-dally."
Angua whined and nodded towards the door, which was the usual signal for let's go for a walk, and gave his fingers a tentative lick. Mmm, she caught herself thinking, that's nice. Her senses were definitely sharper during... mmmm...
"That tickles!" said Carrot. "Hmm. Do you smell food?"
Warning bells sliced through the warm, happy fluff in Angua's head. She shook her head vigorously, and sadly, the warm, happy fluff wafted out.
Carrot sniffed the air again and shrugged. "Must have been mistaken. Oh, there you are, sir," he added, as Vimes carefully eased his way through the door.
"Uh, hello Carrot," said Vimes jovially and with unnecessary gusto, "It's nice to see you here early as always but we've already finished the meeting!"
"Excellent, sir!" Carrot said with genuine surprise and joy. "And the outcome, sir?"
Vimes struggled for an instant and then answered, "The usual."
"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm not too familiar with budget plans, sir, what is the usual?" Carrot inquired politely.
"Taxes," Vimes replied automatically.
He looked to Angua for inspiration. Angua wagged her tail innocently.
"More taxes," he amended. "On, uh-" Vimes glanced at Carrot, "Vegetables. To vegetable-exporting countries." He added, gruffly, "You needn't worry, I've already briefed Angua and she's going to handle everything."
Angua rolled her eyes.
Vimes propped a smile up on his face. "I remember you were asking for leave today, Carrot?"
Carrot looked stricken. He leaned over and muttered, "Was expecting some visitors but they might be a bit late sir don't need tonight off sir sir please don't tell Angua it's supposed to be a surprise sir."
Aware that Angua could hear every word of Carrot's already-audible undertone, Vimes nodded freely.
"So I could catch up on my paperwork tonight, sir?" Carrot asked.
Angua cocked her head to the door again.
"It's a nice night," Vimes said quickly. Inward he cringed. Moonlight. Very, very romantic. "Why don't you take Angua for a- ah, go for a walk with Angua?"
Carrot snapped to attention. "And Quarry Lane, sir!"
--
"Where have all the carrots gone?" Cheery hummed to herself, staring down the beer vat. Ho hum, didn't realize dwarf beer was such abrasive stuff...
There came a bloodcurdling howl from outside. A chill ran down Cheery's spine, such that she dropped the carrot she was holding, which disappeared with a sullen gloop.
--
Time passed. Stuff happened. In the back room, Cheery's jaw dropped.
"Uncle Stronginthearm?" she said weakly. "Uncle Stronginthetoe? Nephew Stronginthethroat? And... Uncle Strongintheunmentionables?(3)"
Four dwarves were standing in the room. They were clutching foaming tankards of beer, which thoughtfully had their names printed on them(4), except for Strongintheunmentionables, whose name didn't fit. Instead, he had brought three mugs which read 'Strongint', 'heunmenti' and 'onables'. He liked the letters spaced out.
Stronginthearm raised his head. Beer dripped down his beard. "Heard there was a party for our young friend Captain Carrot!"
"A Watch party, uncle," Cheery said, with great distress.
"I feel sick," Nephew Stronginthethroat mumbled. "Why're the windows pappapepapapared up?
The dwarves exchanged quick glances. Without warning, a routine jolted into place. Stronginthetoe ripped the paper off the nearest window, ignoring Cheery's protests. Moonlight streamed into the room. Strongintheunmentionables pushed the window open and nephew Stronginthethroat had a well-timed and hearty barf out of it.
"Uncle!" Cheery wailed, since railing at Stronginthethroat would clearly do no good at all.
"Sorry for all that," Stronginthearm announced politely to all, as his beard continued to drip carrot beer on the floor. "Stronginthethroat hasn't grown into 'is name yet! He just needs a little more practice, is all! Huh ho!"
Before Cheery could respond, Vimes came up to her with a whole gang of dwarves, one with a tankard the size of a punch bowl.
"These fine fellows here," Vimes said awkwardly, "say they're your Uncles Strongintheheel, Stronginthenostril, Stronginthelung, Stronginthescalp-"
Cheery sighed. "Don't bother," she told him. The dwarves had just launched merrily into the first verse of "Gold, gold, gold, gold."
--
Angua was sulking. Only Carrot would want to see cold, slippery fish on his birthday, she thought, changing into the bundle of clothes she also kept the the entrance of the Watch house, head reeling from the smells of the past half hour. Summary: Fish, cold, smelly, slippery fish. Fish, wet, scaly dead fish, chocolate, where did the chocolate come from, I like chocolate, Carrot's standing behind me, chocolate, oh Carrot and chocolate - fish! Fish! Fish!
"Fish!" Angua yelped. What if-
"It's okay," Carrot said soothingly, interrupting her thoughts, "We're back at the Watch house already, we're going to go into the back room, where for some reason I hear chortles, singing and clinking, and you're going to be just fine." He paused. "Hmm. Is that 'Gold, gold, gold, gold' I hear?"
Angua pulled herself together and mustered the most charming smile she could come up with at the moment. "Carrot," she began, running her fingers down his arm, "You do know what day it is today, don't you?"
"The day of the Siege of the Daffodils," Carrot said promptly. "And the day chopsticks-"
"Carrot!"
"Well... I did mean to tell you..." Carrot shuffled his feet. "I told Sergeant Vimes I was planning to take leave today, because today's..."
Angua smiled and threw the door open.
And then she snarled, and slammed it shut again.
--
The party in full swing, but suddenly froze as Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson stepped in the door, shutting it carefully behind him. Then he boggled at the drunken party dwarves and the orange and carroty display of food.
"Um," he said, sounding surprised. "What's this?"
Cheery raised her hands triumphantly and began, "Gold-"
Carrot cleared his throat loudly. The room fell silent.
"Speech!" Cheery cried desperately.
Carrot took a deep breath and said, "Could someone please cover all the windows?"
There was a bustle and a rustle and quite a bit of beer slopping on the floor. Detritus gallantly stood in front of one of the windows, but nothing else could be found to block the others.
Vimes appeared by Carrot's side, holding a fishnet with a few carrots in it. "Angua can't come in?" he muttered.
"No," said Carrot sadly. "Well, never mind."
He raised his hand, saluted and gave everyone a jaunty wave.
"Sorry for interrupting everyone!"
And then he left the room.
--
Angua looked up in surprise as Carrot came back out.
"Someone's holding a party," he told her, "but someone took off those papers you covered the windows with, so I guess I'll just have to walk you home."
Angua stared blankly at him.
"Or I could nip in and get you a carrot," Carrot offered. "I wonder why there are so many-" He stopped mid-sentence.
Cheery screamed from inside, "Uncle Stronginthetonsil!"
"Carrot, it's your birthday party," Angua said weakly.
"Birthday party?"
"The Watch threw it for you," she continued.
"For me?"
"Yes."
Carrot stared at his sandals. Then he said, "For me?"
"Yes."
Carrot stared at his sandals. Then he said, "For me?"
"Yes." If she had to be any more direct she would start banging her head on the wall...
Carrot stared at his sandals again. Than we said, in an oddly choking voice, "It's wonderful."
And Angua's heart melted into a happy little puddle inside her.
That is, until Cheery shrieked, "Uncle Stronginthepimple!"(4) and burst into a flood of noisy tears.
Angua stood on tiptoe and gave Carrot a quick brush on the lips. "You'd better go in, for the sake of Cheery's sanity," she murmured in his ear. "They've been rehearsing all week."
Blushing slightly, Carrot nodded. "I'll come out to see you as soon as I can. Would you like me to bring you anything?"
Yes, Angua thought, a really big tub of hot melted chocolate... hot chocolate?
"Yes, Carrot," she said dreamily, but something about hot chocolate was nagging at her. She tried to fight it down.
"Carrots it is. I'll be right back," Carrot promised.
"Oh, wait," Angua remembered. "How old are you, Carrot?"
Carrot pressed his lips together, and then grinned suddenly. "Well, I don't know!" he said impishly (as opposed to sheepishly) and vanished into the room.
Almost immediately after, a stout pair of dwarves getting on in years came in, carrying suitcases. That is, rocks with handholds. A couple, probably, but with dwarves you could never be sure...
Oh well, Angua thought, may as well make myself useful.
"Hello," she said, trying to smile in a friendly manner, "are you friends of Captain Carrot?"
--
Oddly was smiling the blonde human and Ankh-Morporkian was the nature of the speech of the human of the feminine nature, and the dwarves comprehended/absorbed/ate with pickles it not.
"We do not speak Ankh-Morporkian," said severely the dwarf of the more feminine nature.
Before the hesitation, confused the human seemed. Come some hesitation! After the hesitation, of a Dwarvish nature was the nervous speech, "Hello..."
"Gold, gold, gold, gold!" (come some melodious music!)
The human raised her voice. "I am a gooseberry tart," she declared.
The two dwarves exchanged puzzled looks. Replied the dwarf of the more masculine nature, "That's nice, dear."
"Gold, gold, gold, gold!"
The human began shouting, "Are you apple strudels?"
Eyebrows of the two dwarves, the, performed the act of lifting. At each other looked the two dwarves. "No," answered they together.
"GOLD! GOLD-"
It appeared, the human was not in the possibility to hear. Shouted the human, "Do you know Captain Carrot?"
"Ah! Captain Carrot," said the dwarf of a more feminine nature, crinkled into a smile the face of, in the nature of papyrus that is poor and soggy. "Yes, we know Carrot. Where is he?"
"Happy Birthday, Carrot!"
"In the peach cobbler," said the human, looking relieved.
Squinted at her the dwarves, come some squint! The human shifted uncomfortably.
At last, "In," the human with thick accent of the tongue, and pointed to the door.
Of a stiff nodding, the dwarves performed the act of exiting.
--
Full prosaic sentences of Dwarvish are archaic, elaborate and seldom used, except by the most stern and respectable dwarves. Youngsters these days do not hold with it, and so the grammar has gone without an update for centuries. It has proven difficult to translate...
--
Angua sagged against the door. She would really have to work on her Dwarvish, her vocabulary was really lacking.
Inside, she could hear Carrot say, "Angua did mention you didn't know for sure, but do I really look eight years old?"
--(5)
(1) Who says Dragonfish aren't spotty? There is not a species on the Disc that does not have trouble with spots.
(2) This is also known as a pune or play on words.
(3) Even upside-down and backwards, for when the party's been on for more than half the night.
(4) Dwarves are no exception to number 1.
(5) Angua will not relinquish Carrot, but the author would still be quite happy with a pot of hot melted chocolate and a review or two. (: