A/N: I admire Terry, Peter, JRR, and even George L., for all his faults, but own none of their work. There might be an epilogue, but this is likely to be the final matter, for reasons that shall become apparent. Thank you all for your encouraging reviews!
"Have you cleared this with the wizards?" Vetinari asked the white-haired man who fiddled with the projector.
"Well, actually, I haven't, my Lord, but surely there's nothing wrong with a little click. The Librarian rated it four thumbs up." The Partrician gave him a reptilian stare. The inventor turned a disk-for-storing-similar-little-bits-of-information-compactly sheepishly in his hands. "Rincewind still owes me a favor…"
"He is the leading expert on the Dungeon Dimensions," Drumknot added reassuringly, passing Leonard the bag of banged grains. There was just something about them that always made a click run better. Vetinari supposed it must be the imps. "This'll be fun, sir." The head clerk gave his employer a wide grin. This was the first time that Rufus had been allowed to witness one of Leonard's special projects, and he was taking a pleasure in it akin to a child with a Hogswatch present. Drumknot had not witnessed the making of Leonard's exploding coffee eariler in the day.
Although, the Patrician reflected as he sipped his warm beverage, the coffee had not been a total disaster. The remains of the machine had been recombined to make quite a nice self-heating teapot. "There are worse portals than those leading to the Dungeon Dimensions. I have it on good authority that this thing opened up a portal into a realm totally unknown to researchers on the Disc. Things come out of it that you cannot run away from, and very few can fight."
"Are those the worcs that your friend from the library mentioned, sir?" the clerk asked delicately. He was no longer so certain that every invention made by this harmless, good natured, little man was as benign as its creator.
"Those would be orcs and Wargs. Honestly, Drumknot, if you are going to listen at the keyhole, you should be getting your information right." Rufus had the courtesy to appear properly abashed.
"Vimes was fairly loud, my Lord," he mumbled apologetically.
"I might be able to construct some sort of sound-amplifcation device that would allow you to hear better. After studying the human ear, it appears that something to increase the size of the pinnae would work well, or perhaps a device to make the tympanic membrane vibrate better; you do want to be discrete, after all…" Leonard was off and doodling. "How large are your ears, Mr. Drumknot?"
"Maybe we'll work on it later," Rufus waved him off vaguely. Leonard nodded happily, considering how one might combine a gauging device with a quill for spur-of-the-moment measurements. Perhaps he could add a balancing device as well; there were enough spaces in bird feathers that a little bubble might be left floating in the ink without disrupting the flow of the pen… "Leonard? Did you still want to watch the click?" Rufus Drumknot, gueina pig but for the grace of the gods, called the absentminded inventor back to reality.
"Oh, yes. But what are these terrifying creatures from other dimensions that worry you so, my Lord?" Leonard of Quirm sat down next to his employer, appearently not the least bit bothered by the thoughts of beings that could tear him to pieces.
"Fangirls," Havelock said darkly. "Boromir followed my advice, but they still got to him in the end. Faramir has been twisted by them, barely surviving thanks to his wife. And Denethor… I do not wish to think about what might drive such a man to burn himself alive." Drumknot looked startled, and even Leonard's rose-tinted reality had been intruded upon. The inventor scribbled thoughtlessly in his notebook in an attempt to cheer himself up. The fact that the image producted was of an improved Aegatean flamethrower did little to improve Vetinari's mood. "I invited you gentlemen here today because we are all currently in Boromir's position. We are well known in Ankh-Morpork, and currently unattached. This makes us the most likely prey, should the wrong portal open."
"Are you suggesting that we find… girlfriends, sir? Because I suppose I could go down to the Watch-house and ask if some of their ladies are available, sir. Or maybe ask one of the maids to do something after the click." Rufus looked a bit confused. He had not had much experience in that department.
"I fear that might only make things worse, Drumknot. These creatures have been known to possess perfectly innocent women. Just stay on your guards, keep a low profile, and leave the ink-stains on your hands." Vetinari advised.
"Ink stains, sir?" the clerk asked, surveying his pigmented fingertips.
"The second-best proven tactic after being a dwarf. For some reason, our shorter countrymen seem naturally immune to the fangirl threat." The Patrician stroked Wuffles uneasily, hoping that the dog would prove the third most effective weapon against Sues.
"Are you sure you wish to watch this, my Lord?" Leonard asked gently. "We know that it does not have the happiest of endings for your friends."
"The Librarian has already seen it, and it may leak to other sources as well. Best that we are prepared for the worst," Havelock replied firmly, before he could allow terror to overcome him and curl up around Wuffles.
"The Librarian was in another dimesion, of course. They had been showing it at something called a 'film festival," I hear." Leonard told them.
"A film festival? That's an odd name for a round of clicks." Rufus looked at him askance.
"Apparently, he was also mistaken for something called a Wookiee."
"Strange people." The clerk accepted a handful of banged grains as the title credits rolled on the screen. "How bad was the damage?"
"Not too bad. They had handed out banana daqueries and some edible dwarf bread before they showed the click."
"Edible dwarf bread? Isn't that a contradiction in terms?" Leonard shrugged, sipping his ginger beer and taking notes on the onscreen armor.
"Lembas is elvish, actually. It won't hurt you, but I wouldn't trust the Eldar any further than I could throw them," Vetinari spoke up at last, intercepting the bag of banged grains as it went about its rounds between the two men on either side of him. He offered the first kernel revelentially to Wuffles, careful to avoid the dog's teeth. They were coming unglued again. He then pulled out another piece for himself, ignoring Rufus as the clerk reached over his tea for another handful. There was just something about banged grains that always did make a click run better.
As the final credits rolled, Vetinari allowed himself to relax and look about their private theatre. On his left, Drumknot attempted to remain circumspect as he blew his nose into a monogramed hankerchief. On his right, Leonard was reviewing his notes on translation. By his feet, Wuffles gnawed away on the empty banged grains bag. All in all, the first Ankh-Morporkian presentation of "The Lord of the Rings Trilogy" had been a smashing success. Havelock took one last sip of his tea, which had cooled during the production.
"Rufus," he said calmly. "I don't care who you have to kill, what you have to destroy, or where you have to go, but if you value your life, never let Captain Carrot get his hands on this."
"Yes, sir." Drumknot left his employer to dispose of the disk as Vetinari stared into the fire. Were it not for Wuffles, he thought, that would have been me.