Chapter 5: The Politics Of Sex

    Rincewind wandered aimlessly in the palace garden. He seriously doubted that the Patrician ever took the time to enjoy it, but that aspect of Lord Vetinari was one that couldn’t be further from his mind.
    “he kissed me. . .” murmered Rincewind for the upteenth time that day, causing his stoic guard to give him an uncharacteristic confused look. Rincewind suddenly turned to the guard, which for reasons undiscovered, unsettled the large man greatly, “what if it was some sort of political code for something? Like a handshake, or an assassination.” Rincewind mused to the guard’s pectoral muscles. The skinny wizard turned around and began walking again. He stopped suddenly, his guard almost running into him. “what if it means he’s going to kill me? what if I’m going to die after all?!” Rincewind’s voice cracked with panic, and he gave a startled scream at an equally startled granite statue of a nymph.
    It was at this time that his reverie was interrupted that he noticed a very distincive sound, one that he would never, for the rest of his life, be able to mistake for anything else. It wasn’t the luggage, however.
    “I’M looking over, a four leaf CLOVER, that IIIIIII over-looked be- *gasp* FOOOOOOOORE!”
    Rincewind, with mounting horror, crept toward the bush out of which the abhorrent sound seemed to be coming.
    “ONE leaf for SUN-SHIIIINE, the other for *gasp* RAAAAAAIIIIN!! One for the FLOWERS that grow in the *gasp* LAAAAAAAANE!!!”
    he rounded the bush and found, sitting contentedly on a stone bench on the other side, mercilessly mutilating a small harp, the familiar shortness of Brianna Lucretia Marita Gregarious Etcetera.
    “b-Brian?” he asked, in the miniscule hope that he was hallucinating.
    “RINCE-wind!!” she shrieked happily as she swivled to look at him.
    “w-what. . . what. . . you. . . bloody hell. . .”
    she hopped up and grinned, “oh, didn’t I mention to you that I had a friend I stayed with whenever I was in Ankh-Morpork?”
    “and that friend is. . .”
    “Lucky.”
    “is he?”
    “No, that’s his nickname. It’s short for Havelock.”
    Rincewind felt faint, “Havelock. . .”
    “Vetinari, of course, don’t you keep up with politics? I thought he was supposed to have lunch with you or something.”
    “er, well, yes. . .”
    “how was it?”
    “oh, just fine.” He suddenly gave himself a mental slap across the face. “Wait, what the hell are you doing calling the Patrician of Ankh-Morpork ‘Lucky’?!”
    "Because it annoys him."
    “but. . . but how would you possibly be put into a position where that would become an option in the first place?!” he was nearly hysterical at this point and felt the enormous burden of resisting the desire to wring Brian’s neck.
    “oh, well, I found this dreadful old clock for one of Lucky’s advisors, and he hired me when his dog wandered out of the palace and got lost. Took me forever to find the smelly little bugger too. You’d think that finding a short-sighted, ugly, smelly dog would be easy. Well, let me tell you a few things about the Ankh-Morpork city watch, goodness, are they ever touchy about invasions on their turf, and what with that werewolf on the watch, you’d think they wanted to scare people off. Maybe that’s the point after all, I mean, you do have to be intimidating for some job like that, right?” she stared up at Rincewind, whose eyes had gone blank.         “right? right?”
    Rincewind shook his head. “oh, er, right, of course.” He realized he forgot what his original question was, and found that he really didn’t want to persue it, as far as it meant listening to the short maniac any longer. He abruptly turned around and started to walk away.
    To his extreme chagrin, she followed him. “I’m going out later today to pay homage to the goddess Knut at her temple. I don’t think she’s very well known. She’s the goddess of things-that-you-need-in-a-hurry-but-can’t-find-no-matter-how-hard-you-look-so-you-have-to-go-to-your-engagement-without-it
-and-are-subsequently-late-but-it-turns-up-a-week-later-in-your-underwear-drawer.”
    “oh.” Grunted Rincewind, entertaining the notion of seppuku.
    “her husband’s temple is on the opposite side of the courtyard to hers. His name is Kase. He’s the god of sock-that-has-no-pair-that-you-don’t-throw-away-because-you-think-you-still-might-find-the-other-one-so-it-just-sort-of-sits
-there. You know what happens when they make passionate love?”
    “nugh.” Rincewind wondered how hard it would be to impale himself on a bush.
    “well, when they make passionate love, they combine into one great, sexless diety called,” she took a deep breath and clasped her hands to her heart, “Knut-Kase.”
    “so’s yer mum.”
    “what was that?”
    “nothing.”
    “oh. So, anyway, they become this great god Knut-Kase, but eventually it gets in a row with itself,  and they separate again until the next time they make passionate love.”
    Rincewind was tentatively curious about what Knut-Kase was the diety of, but decided that he was probably better off not knowing.
    “soooo, how was breakfast with the Patrician, hmmm?” she skipped along beside him, giving him a slight nudge in the ribs.
    “um. . . fine. . .”
    “nothing. . . unexpected happened, did it?”
    “n-no.”
    “you sure?”
    “yes.”
    “real sure?”
    “yes.”
    “positively sure?”
    “yes.”
    “absolutely su-“
    “YES!!”
    “well, there’s no reason to yell about it, I was just asking.” She sniffed. “anyway, I should get going. As the day goes on, the priests of Knut tend to get confused, so it’s best to get there either early, or late, unless you want to end up holding their sacred staffs for them while they rummage around in search of the Fated Incense of Time.” she winked at him “have a nice. . . evening. . .” sniggering to herself, she turned and walked into a bush. She swore several times, untangled herself, picked a couple sticks from her hair, and wandered off, eventually ending up in another bush, as it turned out.
    Rincewind, casting periodic furtive glances toward his guard, wandered about the palace in search of his quarters. After several hours, he managed to find it and, giving the guard a suspicious look to make sure that he wouldn’t follow him in, entered his room and flopped in a chair. He idly wondered what was to become of him. Whatever it was, he probably wouldn’t like it. He never liked it. Something bad was always happening to him. Things never changed in that respect.
    Though, throughout the rest of his calm afternoon, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was wrong.
*******************

    “Lord Vetinari wishes that you dine with him again tonight. He expects you have more questions, and regrets that your conversation this morning had to be cut short by pressing matters of state.” drumnknott had managed to say the entire thing without looking at Rincewind.
    Rincewind grumbled something unintelligable, but stood up and followed the man. He could tell that they were once more heading toward Vetinari’s chambers. His mind immediately jumped back to that startling kiss. What the hell had that been about, anyway? Was he about to find out?
    *hallo, there.* came a voice from inside his head.
    *what? Who are you?* he answered back.
    *guess.*
    *err. . . my conscience?*
    *hardly. Your conscience is busy trying to make a list of Ms. Brian’s redeeming features, and is currently at a standstill.*
    *then who the bloody hell are you?*
    *I’m your libido. Your mojo. The little voice inside your pants that you always ignore. Well, I’ll have you know that I won’t stand for it anymore! That little peck from this morning has whet my appetite!*
    *stuff it! I have no appetite! I’m a wizard, the idea is repellent.*
    *is it, now? we’ll see about that, soon enough.* the voice fell silent.
    Rincewind felt that he had yet to hear more from his stifled subconscious.
    Vetinari stood as Rincewind entered the room, “welcome. Please, sit down.” He nodded to drumknott who exited and closed the door behind him.
    Rincewind noticed that while the plate at his seat was piled high, lord Vetinari’s was empty, but for several breadcrumbs.    Rincewind idly wondered if he had some sort of phobia about other people seeing him eat.
    “I feel I have some explaining to do about the incedent this morning.” he leaned back in his chair and swirled a cup of wine in his hand.
    “w-what incedent?” squeaked Rincewind with a hysterical chuckle.
    Vetinari raised a thin, black eyebrow, “shall I remind you?”
    “GAH! Uh, oh, *that* incedent, yes, of course, I was wondering about that.” He instinctively reached for the closest alcoholic drink, which was his cup of expensive wine.
    “do you recall the incident involving Cohen the Barbarian’s siege on the Cori Celesti?”
    “yes?” answered Rincewind, hoping that he was giving the right one.
    “we spoke briefly on that occasion, I’m not sure if you recall. . .”
    Rincewind nodded, his mouth full of wine.
    “I must admit, you made quite an impression on me, although the conversation was short-lived.”
    “er, what sort of impression?” asked Rincewind’s libido before he could stop it.
    *will you stay out of this?*
    *not a chance in hell. Look at his eyes.*
    *they’re half-closed. What about them?*
    *he’s giving you bedroom-eyes, moron! Now, wink or lick your lips or something! We can’t let him lose interest!*
    *what’s this ‘we’ you speak of? ‘we’ are not doing anything, got it?*
    *hmph. We’ll just see about that.*
    “you know, I’m not exactly sure of the cause of this impression.” Said Vetinari, placing his cup back on the table, his mouth twisting into another half-smile, “some might call it alchemy or magic. I think the term that fits best is. . . chemistry.”
    “oh. Er, does it?”
    Vetinari nodded, not taking his eyes of the nervous wizard, who was feeling something stirring inside him that he was quite sure wasn’t supposed to be stirring. Not for a wizard. The idea was positively improper!
    *yeah, but it feels good, don’t it?*
    *shaddap!*
    *you’re just dying to know what he looks like without that black robe, aren’t you?*
    *no! I’m not!*
    *don’t you just want to rip it off? Find out if he wears cologne?*
    *I doubt if he-*
    *wonder what color his drawers are?*
    *No! I refuse to think about that!!*
    *they’re probably black. . . hmm, maybe satin. . .*
    “don’t get me wrong,” continued Vetinari, oblivious to Rincewind’s internal argument with himself, “this wasn’t the principle reason I had you brought here once hearing of the price on your head. However, now that I have you here, I see no reason to let a certain. . . oppertunity pass me by. Do you understand?”
    *YES!! YES!! GODS, YES!!*
    *STICK A SOCK IN IT!!* “w-well I. . .” Rincewind, unable to take his eyes from Vetinari, fiddled nervously with the tie on his robe. He had a sudden, wild urge to ask Vetinari to undo it for him.
    Vetinari suddenly stood up, causing Rincewind to jump in his seat. The patrician strode purposefully around the table. As if of their own accord, Rincewind’s legs also straightened, bringing him to eye-level with Vetinari. They stood there, noses inches away from each other, for several moments. Then, as if by some unspoken agreement, Vetinari grabbed Rincewind’s shoulders and pressed his lips against the wizards, at the same time Rincewind’s hands came up to grasp the front of the patrician’s robes.
Vetinari’s tongue pushed past Rincewind’s lips, which parted eagerly. Rincewind found his fingers fumbling at the buttons on Vetinari’s collar. The pair, by way of an awkward, four-legged shuffle, managed to get through the door in the back of the room which led into the patrician’s sleeping quarters, pausing only for Vetinari to pin Rincewind against the door as he fumbled with the nob. Rincewind had only a moment to admire the richly furnished room before, with one swift movement, he was tossed on his back onto the bed.
    “really,” he said breathlessly in between kisses, “I wouldn’t have figured you for a . . . a wall-hangings type of person. . .”
Vetinari paused thoughtfully, “you know, I did have one of those bare-walled suites for quite some time. the mattress was liken to a rock and it was freezing in the winter. No insulation. I. . . had it redecorated.” He raised an eyebrow, “I trust you approve.”
    Before Rincewind could say that he would approve of a blanket on the floor, Vetinari’s mouth engulfed his own once more. As a last, desperate defense against completely losing control, his mind sought for some drawback which would make him regret this move later on. and found it. “wait!” he suddenly cried, bracing his hands against Vetinari’s chest, “wizard!”
    “what?”
    “I mean, I can’t! because I’m a wizard! It’s just not allowed!” his stomach sank in dissappointment. He really had been looking forward to seeing what Vetinari looked like under that robe. . .
    Vetinari snorted at this and sat back, straddling Rincewind’s waist. “I see it this way:” he started, calmly, “there are two foremost reasons why a wizard is not allowed to partake in sexual conduct:”
    Rincewind idly wondered if Vetinari carried a book of helpful intelligent-sounding phrases around with him. he then realized that a man like Vetinari probably wouldn’t need it.
    “reason number one: such conduct would be frightfully distracting to a wizard, which might then result in some rather. . . alarming magical developements. Since you’re not, at the moment, practicing magic and don’t seem to have any long-term plans to, I think you needn’t worry about that point.”
    “and the other one?”
    “oh yes, the problem of sourcery. Well, unless one of us is keeping a very big secret, I doubt we have to worry about that.”
    “oh. So that’s it, then?”
    “indeed.”
    “jolly good. Shall we carry on?”
    Vetinari answered him by untying Rincewind’s robe and pulling it off his shoulders, only to expose another layer of clothing. He gave a feral growl and went about pulling off the various items of clothing which wore Rincewind.
The luggage was severely confused, especially for an object that in most circles of thought, was considered to be inanimate. It shuffled forward and back several times and creaked in puzzlement. Was its master being attacked or not? certainly, there was someone sitting on the owner’s hips, enthusiastically dispensing with his clothes. Rincewind, however, didn’t seem to be doing anything to prevent it. In fact, he was starting to have a go with the tall, slender dark-haired man’s buttons, which appeared to be giving him some difficulty. The poor luggage managed to reach a decision to sit where it was until given a reason to attack something.
    Vetinari ran his tongue lightly over Rincewind’s bare collarbone, moving down the wizard’s narrow, exposed chest until he reached a nipple. He bit it lightly, smiling as it persuaded a gasp from Rincewind. He continued teasing the wizard’s chest with his tongue while his hands moved down his ribs and stomach, undoing the leather belt and slipping Rincewind’s trousers and drawers over his hips and on the floor. He sat back, a satisfied smirk on his face, “very nice. Who would have thought a skinny thing like you to be hung so well?”
    Rincewind blushed under the scrutiny and self-consciously closed his legs, “hey, if we’re doing this, it’s going to be give and take!”
    Vetinari raised the ever-active eybrow.
    “meaning I’ve given you my clothes, now I’m going to take yours!”
    Vetinari let his hands hang limp at his side as Rincewind stood on his knees to undoe the many black buttons marching down    Vetinari’s conservative robe.
    Within another dimension, death was feeling a strange tugging at the edge of his consciousness. The enegy signature told him that something was going on involving his favorite wizard. Shrugging, he grabbed his scythe, and popped through the invisible wall that separated his realm from that of the Discworld. He cocked his head to one side as he observed the activities of Rincewind.     REALLY, I NEVER WOULD HAVE GUESSED… BUT I SUPPOSE IT HAD TO HAPPEN SOMETIME… thought death to himself. Interested in where the hasty disrobing would lead, he settled in a seated position, albiet in mid-air, to watch the proceedings.
    Rincewind was having a difficult time getting through the various complicated layers of Vetinari’s dress, much to the latter’s amusement. Finally, with a grunt of frustration, he thrust his hands up the Patrician’s tunic, grasped every edge of fabric he could find, and pulled, causing Vetinari to fall backwards. After finishing that, he pulled the rest of the garments over Vetinari’s head, discarding them impatiently. He sat back on the patrician’s hips, panting with exhaustion.
    “I trust you find your exercise satisfactory?”
    “bloody robes. . . you could have warned me. . .” Rincewind grumbled.
    “allow me to make it up to you,” Vetinari, it was revealed, was not scrawny skin-and-bones as Rincewind had expected, but was rather well-toned, his muscles wiry and compact around his thin frame. with another expert move that seemed to come out of nowhere, he had flipped Rincewind back onto his back, grasped his knees, and thrust them apart. “now then, let’s see if we can’t charge your wizard’s staff. . .” he placed his tongue on Rincewind’s bellybutton and followed the line of sparse brown hair to the wizard’s throbbing organ.
    At that same moment, a rather skilled assassin was rappelling down the side of the palace, his feet making no sound as they periodically hit the cold stones. He glanced in a window, careful to keep his face out of the light cast from it. Nope, not in here, either. The assassin swore to himself. That damn wizard wasn’t in his quarters, and didn’t seem to be anywhere. Out of curiosity, the assassin swung sideways, bracing himself on a window’s casing, and peered inside the patrician’s room. His jaw almost separated from his skull. Was that the patrician? No way. . . no fuckin’ way. . . but. . . that was the wizard all right, and who else could that black head of hair between his legs belong to? The startled assassin nearly fell off the building when the scrawny wizard threw back his head, uttering a cry that he could hear from his post. LoOstening his collar, the assassin made himself more comfortable, as he felt his own cock beginning to stir at the sight of the Patrician and the wizard he had come to kill. This was great!
    Vetinari teased the tip of Rincewind’s cock with his tongue, holding the wizard’s hips down to prevent him from thrusting up. Rincewind writhed on the bed, grasping the sheets in a deathgrip, ragged cries coming from his throat.
    HE SEEMS TO BE TAKING IT RATHER WELL. PERHAPS THERE’S SOMETHING TO THIS WHOLE SEX BUSINESS AFTER ALL. Death mused to himself, popping a kernel of popcorn into his mouth. He looked down as a scrawny, scraggly tabby cat wandered into the room from the adjoining study. He wouldn’t have had any reason to remark, but for the fact that this cat’s whiskers were bent as if she had had one too many bad encounters with a wall, and, strangely enough, all the fur on her ears was blue. Not one to lack in politeness, he held his bowl of popcorn up to her, as she hopped up on the Luggage’s lid. POPCORN?
    The curious cat sniffed at the bowl, darted her paw in, swatting it back and forth until a kernel fell in front of her. She swatted at it, and promptly lost interest when it tumbled to the floor, much preferring to watch the intriguing proceedings happening on the bed.
    “gods!” cried Rincewind, “finish it, dammit!”
    “yeah, finish it!” whispered the assassin enthusiastically from his perch.
    I SAY, MIGHT BE A GOOD IDEA AT THIS POINT.
    “mrrow?”
    *creak*
    Vetinari engulfed the wizard’s cock with his mouth, sucking mercilessly until Rincewind came with a prolonged scream of ecstasy.
    “aw, I gotta tell the guys about this. . .” murmured the assassin.
    “prrrt?”
    WELL, I MUST SAY, GOOD SHOW.
    *creak*
    Rincewind lay prone on the cushions, trembling slightly. Vetinari grabbed his discarded under-shirt and wiped up the milky liquid which coated the insides of Rincewind’s legs and his own face and chest.
    “well, how did you find it?” he inquired, moving up to lay beside Rincewind.
    “guh. . . uh. . . huh. . .”
    “that’s what I thought. I think perhaps the more. . . intense. . . experimentations should wait until later, hm?”
    “uh. . . uuh. . .”
    Vetinari covered them both with the thick blankets and kissed Rincewind once more on the mouth before curling up beside him and closing his eyes. No, being the Patrician of Ankh-Morpork surely wasn’t all that bad. Not bad at all.

Back to Storage
Chapter 6: Politics
Chapter 4: Political Inprisonment