Work Text:
'And then I wondered what was in it for you,' continued Vimes. 'Oh, there's a lot of people involved, I expect, for the same old reasons. But you? Now, my wife breeds dragons. Out of interest, really. Is that what you do? A little hobby to allow the centuries to fly by? Or does blue blood taste sweeter? Y'know, I hope it was some reason like that. Some decent mad selfish one.'
According the muffled growling, someone’s snapped orders and Croissant Rouge’s desperate excuses he could hear from the yard, someone tried to tear the hem of one’s cloak out of the old vywern’s jaws and claws.
Seconds later, the door opened, and a dark thin figure appeared in a rectangle of sunlight.
The man walked straight into the library in a whirl of black clothes and a cloud of dust. He was holding the hem of his long robes lifted up from the ground to keep it away from all the…dirt in the yard and animals‘ teeth. A document folder under one arm, and slightly disgusted expression on his face.
It was a meeting about his new coat of arms.
The Dragon has shown him his design. Vetinari, that was the name of the new lord and ruler of the city, examined it suspiciously, pointing at particular parts with his finger.
-''I understand this. Morpork on Ankh, sure. And a horse head? I quite like it. A warrior at the sea..is it an elf? Yes, that has to do with my first name. Very NoThingFjordic, I’ve read about it. But what these weird crossed instruments are for? These..pliers, or what is it, and some…er, what should it be?'' He asked with a certain suspicion of a person, who probably already knows.
-''My lord, this is sort of heraldry pun. It has to do with your surname. Ah – ha. Can you guess? Try it, please, sir. Ah - ha.''
Vetinari thoughtfully looked at said instruments again and tapped his chin.
-''Eh, I think I was told about your puns before. I even have an idea, what is this for, and, unfortunately, I was expecting exactly this kind of thing. I do not want any pliers on my coat of arms. I do not cut anyone’s belongings. Never.''
-''So you want the design to be reworked?''
-''No. To be honest,I have made my own unique design I’d like to use. But I was curious what will you come up with, so we can compare them'', he said and opened his folder. On the papers inside were some crossed out and redrawn designs of various simple coats of arms. And on one of them, there was something which was just a simple all-black shield.
Under it there were some crossed out family mottos, and on the bottom Si non confectus, non reficiat.
-''I’ve had more ideas, but I like this one the most. It reflects my personality and taste really well'', he said and pointed at his last design.
-''But…isn’t it just a black shield? No heraldry, no symbols…''
-''Indeed it is. I appreciate your observative skills. I’ve searched thoroughly the latest heraldry books, and this exact shield seems to be free. Draw it into your registry, please.''
-''But, my lord, did you think about your future family? Don’t they deserve a proper coat of arms according the Ankh-Morpork’s conventions?''
The man did not even seem to think about such possibility.
-''No, I do not consider it. Even if so, better than when even its coat of arms would make fun of the surname, don’t you think? It will be me who will use it. It’s not for the purpose of your professional pleasure, is it?''
The vampire was abashed. He wasn’t used to such manners.
-''And now I have to leave. Do not let me detain you. The city is waiting for me'', he said. ''Draw this design into your books now, I plan to use my coat of arms since tomorrow. Thank you.''
The whole meeting wasn’t longer than ten minutes, the man did not even sit down. He just said goodbye, turned back and left through a rectangle of daylight.
It was a long time since Ankh-Morpork had a king. Many of the previous Patricians were unpleasant people, but Dragon has never experienced such arrogance and disrespect to his science and profession. The new Patrician did not even pretend interest in how the design could be improved and changed, he was not interested in the beauty of heraldry. He just walked in, threw his horrendous, uninventive design on the table, and left. Who has ever seen it? People making their shields themselves?
Dragon shuddered.
Gritting his teeth, the Dragon drew that abomination into the registry. It was formally correct and did not violate any heraldry principles, after all.
That happened some years ago. Dragon king of herolds felt like it was yesterday.
There were other reasons why he disliked Vetinari as a ruler, but this, this was a personal matter. A personal offense to everything the thousand years old vampire…lived…for.
Where is your dignity now, dark lord? Where is your dignity and elegance, when you are most likely sitting on a bed right now, barfing your innards into a bucket? Where?
Who is laughing now, my lord, when you are shivering with weakness, trying to collect all your power just to lift up a cup of tea? Enjoy your arsenic, my lord, let yourself be soaked in it! Fill your lungs with arsenic!
It’s possible Vetinari forgot about him. For him, the Dragon was just one of many meetings he had to do in the beginning of his reign. Probably he reckoned him to be a harmless researcher, who never leaves his study room. He was wrong about this. Such wrong.
He never forgets.
The Dragon king rubbed his hands and sniggered.
''Ah-ha. Ah – ha. AH-HA HA HAHAHAHAHA!''