#I’ve been branching out so I’m not purely a db main

[oddfamiliar]

Been playing a lot of MH4U, and I’ve fallen in love with the Hammer.

Big mallet go bonk

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Hello! I adore your Vetinari&Downey series, and you've mentioned that it's fine to request drabbles. So, maybe, if you like the idea, you can write smth about the first time young Downey felt some distinct longing towards Vetinari? Maybe with some butthurt and jealosy on Will's part involved.:-)

Thank you so much for the prompt! I have no idea if this is what you were hoping for but it’s what you got. Boys being dumb. 

[The AO3 Link] 

It’s always the throwing of things. Perhaps not every day but since his arrival at the guild Vetinari has been pelted with various and sundry objects whenever Downey felt the need to express his presence. This was usually followed by an “eyyup Dog-Botherer.” Or some equivalent. The intellectual level of the interaction depended upon age in the beginning, twelve year olds not being notoriously bright as Downey was two years Vetinari’s senior, then later, it would depend upon his energy level, how committed he was to being a nuisance or how intense the hangover.

But this has temporarily ceased. Vetinari is cautiously relieved for it means that he can get through a month without having to deal with Downey’s obnoxious presence. What has replaced it though? Staring.

Perhaps it’s because it’s Hogswatch break, Vetinari reasons. There’s only a handful of students at the guild over these two weeks and therefore Downey has less of an audience to perform in front of. Or, perhaps it’s because he’s finally growing up. Being one and twenty must mean something surely. Vetinari considers himself immensely more mature than Downey, and always has been. Even though he’s a mere nineteen and only having taken the black the year previous he believes himself to be miles ahead of the other boy.

Young man, now, he supposes. They’re both young men. Young gentlemen, as teachers usually say in a disparaging tone.

The Guild library is laid out with a main body of the library, the nave if you will, is lined on either side with shelves then in the centre are large tables for students to occupy. The first floor is split so you are either on the east or west side with both affording a view of each other and the ground floor tables. Vaulted ceilings and large windows make for an airy and peaceful environment. It is, perhaps too predictably, Vetinari’s favourite place in the Guild. He sits currently on the west side, first floor, working through notes on how best to approach the methodology for next term’s research project when he becomes aware that some else is nearby.

He looks up then around and sat across from him, on the east side, is Downey. Sitting is perhaps too strong a word, lounging with books would be more accurate. When their eyes meet Downey’s face contorts into something Vetinari has never seen before and he twists in his chair and pulls up a book.

Vetinari thinks that for someone eternally dull-witted Downey has his mysterious moments. Vetinari watches as Downey reads with great diligence, not looking up again until Vetinari bows his head over his notes. With head still bowed Vetinari glances over and finds Downey pulling a similar move. They both look back to their work.

With great concentration Vetinari manages to finish his outline and a few thoughts on where best to begin. Having gone past three he decides to see if any of the kitchen staff will take pity on him and give him a late lunch or an early tea, whichever is easiest.

Getting up he finally allows himself to look over again to Downey and finds him still reading, though a stack of papers have appeared so apparently real work is happening. Packed up and walking down to the ground floor Vetinari glances back one last time and finds Downey watching him. When they meet each other’s eyes this time there’s no awkward scurrying back to work.

‘What do you want?’ Vetinari asks. They’re alone, therefore no need to keep one’s voice to a whisper.

‘What are you on about?’ Downey replies.

‘Just tell me what you want.’

‘Why do you think I want something, Dog-Botherer? Why do you think I’d want anything from you?’

If Vetinari isn’t mistaken, Downey is blushing. Strange, strange lad.

Vetinari shrugs then decants from the library.

The next iteration of this strange and unaccountable change in Downey comes the day after Hogswatch when Downey appears to have a strange sort of silent argument with himself in the common room then approaches Vetinari very slowly and says, ‘um.’

‘What, Downey?’ Vetinari asks from over his book.

Once again, the universe has conspired for them to be alone. Downey appears to take some heart in that.

‘I’ve um got this,’ he holds out a bag of chocolate coins. ‘Um, you want to gamble for them?’

Vetinari stares at the bag. A few informational notes about Downey’s heritage ticks through his head.

‘With you?’ Vetinari asks.

‘No, with the King of Lancre.’

‘I’d rather not.’

Downey scowls, ‘Right, fine.’ He stalks off.

Vetinari tries to return to his book but finds that it isn’t as entertaining as it had been when he began. He wants to reinvest in the main character who is currently attempting to convince her sister to do away with her philandering husband but cannot. He turns around the recent developments in Downey’s behaviour which dated back perhaps a month or so. It hasn’t been long.

He wishes Madam were in Ankh-Morpork for she could then inform him what all of Downey’s shifts in behaviour mean. Learning how people tick and how to leverage that to his advantage is a skill he is still developing. Though Downey has, until recently, been the most simple to manipulate as he was never a deep or complicated river to navigate.

Rivers do change course. Vetinari gets up and goes up to the dorms and knocks on Downey’s door.

Downey opens it, ‘what? Oh.’ Perhaps his expression uncertain? Vetinari believes there is something of a conflict written across it but he isn’t sure what that means.

‘I changed my mind.’

Downey sucks on his bottom lip. It’s not an attractive look. ‘I already have people playing.’

‘Oh.’

‘Who is it?’ A voice from inside asks. Vetinari recognizes it as Jacob de l’Enfer. Another voice, that of Willis, asks a similar question.

Downey, over his shoulder, ‘Dog-Botherer.’

Vetinari’s desire to continue the impromptu socializing vanishes. Downey, when speaking to Jacob, becomes another person. It is a transformation to watch.

Jacob is saying, ‘let him join us. You haven’t explained the rules yet.’

‘Oh DB would know them,’ Downey says.

‘Would he?’ Jacob appears behind Downey with curiosity. Vetinari smiles, a brittle thing. ‘I didn’t know that.’

Downey is pure charm in his reply. It is a performance and Vetinari feels like he’s watching something he shouldn’t be seeing. Then Downey’s attention is back on him and Jacob has retreated and it’s back to the two of them. The way it’s been since they were ten and twelve.

‘I guess you can join,’ Downey says whose eyes are like black forests and his hair a rusty brown. There is light behind him so his face his shadowed.

Vetinari shakes his head. He bows out. He doesn’t want whatever strange, unaccountable olive branch it is that Downey is offering. Or trying to offer. Mostly, he isn’t sure he wants to see him talking to Jacob. He slinks back to the common room, pours himself a whiskey, and does his best to ignore whatever it is that just happened.

Really, things are a tragedy. Downey has decided this as he prowls around the mostly-empty guild. Life is trouble. That is going to go on the plaque his ashes will be hid behind after he dies.

Here lies William (maybe spelled Guillaume or Gulielmus or Willym he hasn’t decided which one has the best colour yet) Downey, Assassin. Let it be known to all that Life is Trouble.

He feels such guilt and such shame. These are not emotions he is overly familiar with so doesn’t know what to do with them. As this is the issue he puts them in a box and spends much of the first week of break drinking with Willis.

What is the trouble that he laments over? It occurred to him, one fowl early Ember day, that Dog-Botherer has a nice profile. That was the unfortunate slope that he has since found himself sliding down. It’s only nice, he informs himself, because Dog-Botherer has finally managed to grow into his nose which was always unfortunately large.

No longer gangly with too many limbs it seems that Dog-Botherer has gained in height and has filled out. All while Downey wasn’t paying attention and really, who is the scag to do something like that to him?

He laments about this to Willis. ‘Willis.’

‘What?’

‘Why must I go and find someone attractive whom I shouldn’t?’

They’re in Willis’ room with a bottle of wine and chocolate bark. Downey’s family is not of the faith to celebrate Hogswatch and so he never bothers to go home during the holidays. Willis’ reason for staying changes every year but Downey has distilled it down to: I live with my angry grandfather and do not wish to return unto him unless I must.

Willis nods sagely. ‘I’ve had that happen. I was seeing Clarissa then went and fancied her cousin. It was a mistake.’

‘Yes,’ Downey points with his wine glass. ‘That’s exactly it. There’s this, uh, lass who I might be going with. The path we’re on is going swimmingly enough and I’m pretty sure she’s keen but there’s this other person who I’ve never noticed before but now all I do is stare whenever they’re around.’

‘Right,’ Willis pours them both more wine in a manner that says he is about to get down to business. ‘So what you need to do is figure out which one you prefer.’

‘Um, the one that it could kick off with in the near future. I think the other one is mostly obnoxious.’

‘All right, so you just need to remember that she’s annoying. I had to do that with Clarissa’s cousin. I had to remind myself that we never have anything to talk about and really, she’s very dull. She’s just got pretty hair and a cute face.’

‘That’s the problem,’ Downey agrees. ‘Faces. Or profiles in this case.’

Willis laughs, ‘you like the weirdest things, Will.’

‘This, uh, lass with the profile is deeply annoying though.’

‘Uh huh.’

‘She thinks she’s so smart, better than the rest of us, somehow superior. Condescending. Rude.’

‘Is she smart?’

‘Oh,’ Downey nods with disinterest. ‘Terribly. Probably the smartest person I know other than Ludo. I don’t really care about that. It’s the blase attitude. She doesn’t pay any attention to me.’

Willis begins peering at Downey then says, very slowly, ‘I think you like this girl a good deal.’

‘Absolutely not.’

‘What’s her name?’

Downey becomes prim. He says he doesn’t kiss and tell. Or, in this case, find-a-profile-nice-to-look-at and tell. He adds, ‘anyway, she doesn’t pay any attention to anyone–’

‘So no competition!’ Willis crows.

‘That’s not the issue here, Willis. The issue is that I do not wish to be interested in her at all because it makes me feel guilty because I’m already half down the garden path with this other person who is fabulous in all ways. An absolute brick. Why they’re interested in me is a mystery.’

Willis’ wisdom most often comes out in wine soaked moments. They’re opening a second bottle and Downey is suggesting that maybe they eat something other than chocolate with cranberries stuck in it.

‘I think you should maybe try and get to know the other girl. The smart one. Then see which route you’d like to go. At the moment you’re working with only half the information,’ Willis says. ‘I can’t really be of any more use since you’re so tightfisted with names.’

Downey waves him off. This isn’t the time for that. This is the time to lament how the universe is cruel and has decided to target him unfairly. He was going along very nicely, thank you, everything was in its proper place until now.

‘I had everything ordered,’ Downey complains. ‘Now it’s not. Well,’ complaint becomes frustrated resignation. ‘Whatever. It’ll pass. I’m sure nothing’ll come of it.’

Willis agrees in his way which is to say he is suspicious and unconvinced but happy to let it drop. They finish the second bottle then go in search of food.

Dog-Botherer is across from him in the common room. Downey hates that Dog-Botherer is across from him. Yet he wishes DB would pay him even the slightest bit of attention. Why is DB nice to creeps like Creevey? And that other strange fellow Flanagan. It makes little sense, they have nothing to offer and aren’t at all remotely interesting people. Downey had been lab partners for a year with Flanagan. It had been a decidedly painful experience.

DB at least is interesting. At least judging by the reading materials he carries around. But DB doesn’t notice him unless he’s chucking something at the lad or insulting him and this eats him up. Indeed, DB once went so far as to say that Downey is not a nice person. Downey disagrees - he’s the nicest person he knows! Other than Ludo. And Jacob.

There’s the rub though. Jacob is a very real possibility. A very real and very soon possibility. And a very real and very soon possibility that he desperately wants. Everything is so much brighter when Jacob is around. He feels less reckless and prone to poor life decisions. Jacob steadies.

Dog-Botherer on the other hand has a habit of provoking the worst in Downey. But that’s only because he refuses to notice Downey in any real capacity instead spending time with creepy Creevy. Also that rich Ramkin girl. Downey dislikes that. His family might not be as rich as her family, nor as aristocratic, but he still should merit some of DB’s time.

Yet. Yet. The rub is reality and reality is that DB will most likely forever remain in the realms of Never Happening Not Even In Your Dreams. DB is also in the realms of Do You Even Want It To Happen? Is That Something You Actually Want To Deal With? The Lad’s As Emotional As A Dead Fish.

Ugh, he thinks as he flounces back into the couch. Dog-Botherer glances over at the sharp exhalation Downey gave upon hitting the cushion.

This is going to turn into another round of awkward staring like they did in the library the other day. Maybe he should start going home during the breaks. He plays this scenario through then decides against it. Whatever messiness happens at the Guild during break is eons better than going home to family and being dragged off to temple for hours then having big dinners with various and sundry. Unimportant people.

Willis’ suggestion lingers like a bad smell. Try and get to know Dog-Botherer? How does one get to know someone so removed and impersonal? Who has such little warmth? His longing has deep conflict within it - how could someone like him want someone like Dog-Botherer? Yet he does. He also wants Jacob. He wants wanting. He wantonly wants.

Determination takes over. He shall not be daunted by this. Rising from the couch he casually strolls over to the object of his confusion and says, ‘I’ve got some chocolate coins. Want to gamble for them?’

Dog-Botherer looks up from his book. The cover is florid - two women wearing an unseemly amount of red. Dog-Botherer seems confused by this so Downey shows him the bag of gelt that was conveniently on his person.

‘With you?’ DB asks.

‘No, with the King of Lancre.’ Downey internally winces. This isn’t the way to go about things but he is watching himself from outside of his body.

‘I’d rather not.’

And he is very much in the moment now. He nods and says, ‘All right then’ and having nothing further to say wanders from the common room.

Once the idea of the game is formed Downey finds himself corralling Willis into playing with him and, to his great joy, Jacob.

Jacob arrives before Willis and Downey immediately regrets his clothing choice because Jacob is casual yet elegant. How can one man manage it so effortlessly? Downey himself wears an itchy jumper his grandma knitted for him several sizes too large at the time so he could grow into it.

Jacob has red hair and freckles and is everything divine. Downey feels so common next to him. Yet when Jacob smiles Downey cannot feel common because nothing is common when Jacob is beside it.

‘Wine?’ He asks as Jacob piles a few pillows on the floor in a circle for the game. ‘I also pilfered Dr. Follett’s brandy if you’re in the mood for that.’

‘A brandy would be nice.’ Jacob settles in on the floor with back leaning into wall. ‘Dr. Follett is going to be after you as soon as he knows you took it.’

‘No fear, I framed Creepy Creevy.’

Jacob rolls his eyes but accepts the brandy without complaint. Downey pours himself one as well and settles down opposite Jacob. The sun is setting so there’s a warm glow on the young man’s face and Downey thinks if he could have a portrait painted it’d be this moment right here.

‘Your holidays treating you well?’ Downey asks. He stretches his feet out. He dares not touch Jacob and Jacob dares not touch him.

‘Oh yes. I came back early as mother was having another one of her spells and I couldn’t be in the house for it. But prior to that I was having a good time. I got you a present.’

‘Oh,’ a blush creeps up Downey’s neck. ‘I didn’t get you anything -’

‘It’s all right, I know Hogswatch isn’t your thing.’

‘I listen for the bells sometimes,’ Downey says. ‘I think they’re nice.’

‘The bells?’

‘The Hogfather’s bells. I’m usually mostly alone at the Guild save for Willis so it’s something to do. We order in Agatean and he cries about his family after we get into the whiskey.’

Jacob is wry, ‘that a yearly tradition?’

‘Yes, bless him.’

Jacob licks his lips and pulls out a small package and hands it over. He is suddenly not looking at Downey but the plants by the window, the book and mug littered desk, the floor. As Downey begins to unwrap it Willis barges in singing a dirty ditty about a sailor.

The present is tucked under the bed. He looks at Jacob who smiles faintly.

‘You could’ve knocked, Willis,’ Downey chides as his friend quickly makes himself at home by stealing Downey’s throw blanket and nesting on the floor with it. ‘Wine or Dr. Follett’s brandy?’

‘Wine.’

Downey pours him a glass and passes it over.

Right as he begins to seat himself there’s a knock on the door. Downey points to it, ‘see Willis, that’s what you could do.’

‘I could,’ Willis agrees happily. To Jacob he says, ‘Will keeps trying to imprint manners on me which I think is a laugh coming from him.’

Jacob to Willis, ‘you have to catch him in the right mood then he’s a perfect gentleman.’

Downey ignores them and opens the door. In the dim of the cool hallway is Dog-Botherer. He’s holding his florid book to his chest and looking confused.

‘What?’ Downey asks.

Dog-Botherer says, ‘I changed my mind.’

Downey breaths in and does not let it out. He races through several alternate scenarios of letting Dog-Botherer join them. The invitation, when he made it, had initially been just for them as per Willis’ direction. But now that Jacob is here he frets. This is the last time he is ever listening to Willis’ advice.

‘I already have people playing,’ he replies lamely.

‘Oh.’

Jacob asks who is at the door. Downey wishes Dog-Botherer didn’t have such a stupid face. If he didn’t have a stupid face Downey wouldn’t be in this position. Willis asks follow up, ‘let them in or out Will but first who is it?’

Downey answers, ‘Dog-botherer.’

Dog-Botherer glares at the name. Rooted to the spot Downey can’t move. Until Jacob says, ‘Let him join us. You haven’t explained the rules yet.’

Downey replies, he isn’t sure what he says. When he looks at Jacob the man is encouraging. Downey knows Jacob thinks he needs to polishing. Jacob had said, ‘I think there’s a good man beneath all of that anger’ and Downey had replied, ‘Aren’t there books on how you’re not supposed to try and change people’ and Jacob, the delight he is, had said, ‘I’m not. I wouldn’t want to. I’m just saying that you’re a bit of an arse but you’re also a good person. You can be both.’

In the present Jacob appears behind Downey and says something which clearly annoys Dog-Botherer who gives a cold non-smile. Downey says something to Jacob. He wants to close the door and return to how things were before this unnecessary complication. Clearly he’s doing fine as Jacob laughs at whatever it is he said and returned to the circle.

Downey mutters, ‘I guess you can join.’

But whatever small desire Dog-Botherer had to join is gone. DB’s face is caught in the light coming from setting sun and lanterns and he, too, looks like a portrait. But a quiet, dark one.

DB says, ‘You clearly have enough players. I won’t get in your way.’

Downey watches him walk back to the common room. It’s an awkward walk as if DB, too, wishes to disappear temporarily into the marble of the Guild. Pushing whatever mad jealousy that rears its head as DB’s back disappears around the corner he spins on his heels with a cheerful smile.

‘All right,’ he grins. ‘Get ready to lose all your chocolate to me.’

They do. Downey preens and spends the rest of the evening eating chocolate in bed and once again pondering that great philosophical question of: Why is life such trouble?