roruna (roruna) wrote in roads_diverged, @ 2009-01-29 00:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | discworld, roruna:vimes/sybil, theme 03: canon what-if |
Flukes and Lilacs [Discworld, Vimes/Sybil]
Title: Flukes and Lilacs Part 5 of 6
Author: roruna
Fandom: Discworld
Pairings/Characters: Vimes/Sybil
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
A/N: And here is part 5.
Theme: Meta, #3 Cannon What-If
Most of the running stopped after the crowd utterly annihilated a heggler’s cart. The crowd broke up leaving Vimes and his men along with some others, which included Sybil. With the crowd broken up she was finally able to find Sam just in time to hear him say, “Well, you got your soldiers covered in egg, Sarge. Wha—”
“Sam!”
Sybil ran to Vimes and Sam and hardly noticed that they both turned at the sound of her voice. They both grimaced at the exact same time and asked, “Sybil, what are you doing here?” Sybil stared at them both and thought how funny it was that at times they even sounded the same. She gave Vimes and Sam a crooked smile. “I don’t know… everyone was just running this way… oh and I didn’t want to get shot at.” Sam chuckled a little and Vimes seemed visibly nervous. “Did anyone see you?” Sybil shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
Vimes cursed under his breath. Sybil put her hands on her hips. “Sorry, I didn’t know I was supposed to be hiding. Care to explain what you’re so worried about?” Vimes rubbed his forehead to fight off a headache. “Well, let’s see. I’ve got a bunch of Unmentionables on our tails who don’t give a toss about amnesty and oh, yes, now I have to worry about you getting killed in this mess. That is what I’m so worried about.” Sybil was going to say something when a little… boy, maybe, rushed over to Vimes.
“There’s men after you, Sarge!”
“Well done, Nobby.”
“Carcer, Sarge! He’s got a job with Snapcase! Captain of the Palace Guard, Sarge! And they gonna get you! Snapcase told ‘em to, Sarge! My mate Scratch n’ Sniff is the under-boot boy at the palace and he was in the yard and heard ‘em talking, Sarge!”
“I haven’t been making a lot of friends lately. Okay, gentlemen, I’m going to run. If you lot melt away into the crowd you’ll be fine, I expect.”
“No fear, Sarge,” said Sam…
There was some arguing at first. But none of the watchmen would leave Vimes alone to face the Unmentionables then there was some discussion about how they’d know who was on what side. Someone said something about carrots and then something about lilacs. Each man took a sprig of lilac and tucked it into their helmets. Sybil took one too and tucked it into her hair. She heard Sam say, “What are you doing?” Sybil summoned up all her aristocratic genes and looked at him like he was asking the dumbest question in the history of human speech.
“I’m going to help, obviously,” said Sybil in an even voice. Sam’s eyes widened. “No you’re not!” Sybil saw Vimes shake his head. She could almost hear him say, ‘idiot’. Sybil drew herself up which Vimes thought could use more practice but it definitely did the job for Sam. “Oh and why not? And don’t you pull any of that ‘you’re a girl so you can’t fight’ nonsense. I’ll have you know I come from a long line of women who have had to protect embassies from invading hordes using frying pans and hot cooking fat and not that long ago, my aunt and I, were held up by highwaymen and my aunt gave them such a talking to they ran home to their mothers.”
She waited a moment to let this sink in. She noticed that Vimes laughed a little and then groaned. She continued, “A Ramkin has never run from a fight and neither will I, thank you very much. And who exactly do you think you are to tell me what I can and I can’t do? Hmm?” Sam didn’t stand a chance. Vimes had grown accustomed to Sybil’s authoritative voice and could occasionally resist but poor Sam had never even heard it before. His genes didn’t help him much either. All they did was give him the annoying sensation that Sybil really should be riding a warhorse while he stood nervously with a pike.
Vimes cleared his throat. “Hey, you think you lovers can put your quarrel aside for now? We don’t have time for this.” He started to walk away. Sam followed after him, anything to escape Sybil drawn up. “Where are we going, Sarge?” Vimes didn’t slow down or even look at Sam. “Back to the watch house.” They reached
Sam and Sybil stayed close together. Along the way, Sybil had gotten a sword from a passing soldier. Everyone else had gotten crossbows as well. As the fighting continued, an outside observer would have noticed that Sam and Sybil weren’t just fighting their immediate opponent but each other’s opponent too. They had both gotten it into their heads that the other was the one that needed protecting. Carcer had an opportunity to notice this and laughed to himself.
Vimes only noticed this when someone was slicing toward Sam and both Vimes and Sybil brought swords down on the man’s arm. They looked at each other for a second and smirked. Vimes really felt he ought to say something to her. Something about Sam, to let her know that he was entrusting her with him or something. But the moment was interrupted when Carcer ran behind Sybil, grabbed her by the waist and ran off with her. (1)
Vimes stopped breathing and felt like his whole body had frozen until he heard Sam shout, “Sybil!” and like a heroic fool, run after Carcer. Vimes growled and shouted, “Son of a bitch!” He went after Sam and Carcer. He called over his shoulder as he ran. “I gotta take care of this! I’ll be right back!” When they found Carcer and Sybil, she was lying face down, her left arm was behind her back and Carcer was sitting on her hips with his knee pushing into her arm. He was still smiling as he spoke to her, he waved a knife vaguely. “Now you really should stop struggling. I know I said I wouldn’t kill you until we’re done but that doesn’t mean I won’t hurt you.”
Carcer looked up when he heard the sound of footsteps. He saw Sam and Vimes standing side by side, Vimes was glaring at Carcer but staying perfectly still while Sam was aiming his crossbow at Carcer, shaking with rage. Carcer smiled his happy go lucky smile. “So nice to see you again, Duke.” Vimes took a few slow steps forward. “Leave her out of this, Carcer. She has nothing to do with you and me.” Carcer snorted but continued to smile. “You little liar. Can I ask you a question?” He paused until Vimes nodded once. “Which one do you have?”
Vimes brow wrinkled. Carcer continued. “Most men have two very basic fantasies. One is being with two women and the other is watching another man fuck his wife.” Vimes didn’t move a muscle. The air around him froze again. “I know what you’re doing, Carcer. It’s not going to work. You’re not going to push me into making a mistake.” Carcer continued to smile. “I know that. I know you’re smarter than that. I know that you can keep your emotions in check while you sort things out. But…” Carcer patted Sybil’s bottom playfully. “How long did it take you to learn to do that?”
Vimes looked to Sam. Sam was still holding his crossbow. He had stopped shaking and was holding the crossbow perfectly steady. Vimes relaxed a little. He really thought that Sam would just lose his temper and run at Carcer. He looked at Sybil. She looked furious and Vimes noticed that with her free hand she was very slowly feeling around for a loose cobble or anything she could use as a weapon. Carcer noticed the change in Vimes’ face. Without even looking down he pushed his knife into Sybil’s shoulder. She clenched her free hand and shut her eyes tightly but didn’t scream. Not even an ‘ouch’.
Carcer sighed as he pulled his knife out of her shoulder. “How many times am I going to have to tell you, you stupid cow? Don’t struggle. You’ll only make it worse for yourself.” Carcer laughed that infuriating laugh. Vimes had had enough and on an unspoken command, Sam fired his crossbow. It missed but it did make Carcer blink just as Vimes rushed him and tackled him to the ground. The fighting is probably best described as those clouds of smoke with limbs and weapons poking out occasionally in old cartoons.
Carcer broke free and ran off with Vimes hot on his tail. Sam heard Vimes shout, “Take care of Sybil!” before he was out of sight. Sam tossed his crossbow aside and knelt by Sybil. Sybil sat up slowly. “What a horrible man!” She winced as she tried to move her right arm. Sam was shaking again. He really wanted to hold Sybil or something but he was too worried it would just hurt her more. “We need to find Dr. Lawn…” Sybil shook her head dismissively. “No, it’s fine…” Sam groaned. “I knew you shouldn’t have done any fighting.”
“Hey, I wasn’t fighting when this happened to me.”
Sybil stood up, unsteadily at first but after a moment, she was perfectly collected. “We need to go and help the others. I don’t think that Sergeant Keel wants us getting involved with him and that dreadful man.” She started walking back toward the watch house. Things had quieted down a little when they returned and Sergeant Colon ran up to Sam. “Where’s Sergeant Keel?” Sam thought for a moment. “He’s chasing Carcer.” Sam turned around and unsheathed his sword. “C’mon. We have to go help him.”
(1) This probably needs saying. Every middle-aged person can look back on photos or iconographs of their adolescent selves and be baffled by how thin they once were. It has been said that trying to drag a middle-aged Lady Sybil is very much like trying to drag a mountain. Teenage Sybil is svelte by comparison.