A Princess for the City

by Tale Swapper

Chapter 2: Strange Little Things

Rincewind rather enjoyed times like this. They convinced him that he wasn't mad because, if he was mad, that left no word at all to describe some of the people he met.- Sourcery

---

There was a long agreement of non-interference between the Unseen University, home of the wizards of the disc, and the city of Ankh-Morpork. Unlike magic on many worlds, Discworld magic is comparable, in many ways, to nuclear power- all well and good if used correctly, devastating if used incorrectly, and possessing numerous side effects if used at all.

Therefore, the city and the university had a taciturn agreement- the city agreed to never ask the wizards’ help with anything, and the wizards agreed to stay in their university for the most part and leave the rest of the world alone.

Lord Vetinari, however, was not the kind of person you could ever expect to obey any rules, especially those never written down, if he thought it would be necessary to keep his city running smoothly.

Which is why Senior Wrangler Horace was making his way up to the palace on a bleary spring morning[1], half dozing in his carriage chair.

A sudden bump caused him to jolt upright, and he glared across at the corpulent figure sitting on the other side of the carriage. “Mustrum,” he said tiredly. “Could you not have told lord Vetinari that we could come a little later in the morning? You might be used to waking up at these horrible hours, but I’m not.”

Mustrum Ridcully, Arch-Chancellor of Unseen University, looked across at his fellow professor. “Listen, Horace. Lord Vetinari has several times upheld matters so that we can maintain the quality of life we require as wizards.” He growled. “And he’s certain we have a magical accident sitting smack-dab in the middle of the palace. Considering the last few times something like this[2] happened, it makes sense he’d call in the experts.” He puffed up proudly.

“Really?” The Senior Wrangler muttered. “Then why isn’t Stibbons here? He’d probably get what was going on the best.”

Mustrum scowled, glaring at his companion. “Ponder doesn’t know everything, Horace. Point of fact, I’ve actually started to understand what he’s doing. After the match, you know we decided the poor chap was handling too much.[3]”

“But-“

“In addition,” Mustrum caught him off. “The magical accident in question is apparently equine[4] in nature. That’s right up your alley, correct?”

“No, I’m not a-“

“Splendid.” Mustrum said, while giving the Wrangler the Arch-Chancellor’s no. 15 glare.[5]

---

Fifteen mostly silent minutes later, the two wizards arrived at the steps of the palace, and five minutes later, were ushered into the throne room. This in and of itself was unusual, but only slightly so. When Lord Vetinari summoned someone, they usually were escorted in to see the patrician promptly in his office- he only made those that came to him wait.

As the wizards came into the throne room, however, each gripped their staffs a little tighter than they normally would have. The room reeked of strong magic, and they could sense the waves of not-quite-rightness oozing off the throne sitting at the back of the room. At the foot of the dais, the Wizards were shocked to see Vetianri staring at a small, white creature, which lifted and turned its head upon their approach.

“Hi!” The little creature chirped.

Mustrum stopped suddenly. Three different parts of his brain were in utter conflict at the sight of the little creature, which was now gleefully waving to him from her (and how did he know it was a female?) perch atop Vetinari’s desk.

First was his wizards’ senses, which frankly screamed at him that there was far too much power radiating off the little being sitting in front of him. Very carefully, he turned to look at the Senior Wrangler, and mouthed a single word.

“Sourcerer?”

The Senior Wrangler, who had been present at the dread ascendency of Coin, the last Sourcerer, frowned, tensed, and then shook his head. Although the feeling of the magnitude of magic radiating off the little creature was reminiscent of that of Coin’s, it was not nearly as great. What was more, there wasn’t any of the phenomena which should have accompanied the arrival of a new sourcerer[6]. He couldn’t even touch the magic the little creature was wielding; that alone proved she was no “source” of magic.

That explanation, however, would come later. Mustrum turned back to the little creature, facing the second impulse running through him. Now that he’d confirmed he wasn’t facing a reality-bending mage, he was already fitting the little creature up for a trophy wall. Mustrum was an avid hunter, but he’d never gone after something like this before.

Fortunately for both Mustrum (who really had no idea what he’d be getting into trying to hunt this little creature) and for the creature in question (who might have been injured hoofing the arch-chancellor’s butt back to him), there was a third impulse running through him that swiftly overran the second. At his core, Mustrum was a gruff old man. And gruff old men have a hard time being impolite to gracious little girls.

The creature in front of him hit all three of those criteria.

So Mustrum swept his hat from his head, and said graciously “And hello to you, princess.”

While he’d meant it as an honorific, the little creature immediately grew solemn, stood up on four little hooves, and did a rough imitation of a curtsey, wings spread. “Thank yew.”

Vetinarti raised an eyebrow, and said acerbically “and how did you know she was a princess, Arch-Chancellor?”

Mustrum blinked as he set his hat back on his head. “I didn’t know, Havelock[7]. Just seemed appropriate,” he huffed.

“Well your instincts were correct, this once at any rate.” Vetinari leaned back and steepled his fingers. “Now, introductions are in order. Gentlemen, this little filly is Princess Celestia of Equestria.” He raised one finger to stall the question which rose from the Wizards’ lips. “And no, I’m not certain where Equestria is, or how she got here. I am however, able to read some of these.”

He motioned to several documents spread across the desk. “These were retrieved from under the cushion which currently occupies the space of the throne. Although I do not read the language, what little this filly” he motioned to Celestia, who was staring at the Senior Wrangler, “could tell us about them was that they were “boring documents for Equestria.” He sighed and sat back. “She, and her throne, appeared about two hours ago, and I have little idea on how to deal with her. It would be best if she was sent back where she belongs.”

Mustrum looked at the throne, then looked at the Senior Wrangler- who had just scooped Celestia up and was examining her up close. “Good gods man, what are you doing?” Mustrum hissed.

Horance was muttering as he examined the little filly. “She’s like a dragon. Not a swamp dragon- a real one.” He looked up at the raised eyebrow on Vetinari’s face and the furrowed, red face of his arch-chancellor. “I mean- sorry, my lord. It’s just that her wings are too small to support her given her weight- oof!”

Clelestia looked up from where she’d buried her hoof in the Wrangler’s stomach. “Yew don’t talk about a lady’s weight like that!” she said disapprovingly.

Vetinari’s stoic expression twitched slightly. To those that didn’t know him, they’d say he was stifling a smile. Those that did know him knew Vetinari never smiled. Those that actually knew him knew that he was not stifling a smile, but outright laughter.

“Not what I meant, princess. It’s just, your wings are too small for you to fly, and I was thinking maybe you flew with magic,” he explained. “That seems to be the case, anyway.”

“Alright, so she’s like a dragon,” Mustrum said. “That explains the magic, anyway.” He turned to Vetinari. “Havelock, this… filly is radiating magic to the extent that we thought… she… might be a sourcerer. However, she hasn’t enough power to warp reality, so we should be- oof!”

Celestia‘s horn glowed with a soft golden light as she yanked the Arch-Chancellor’s hat down over his eyes. “Not nice to talk about me. I’m right here!” she yelled.

Lord Vetinari stood and gently took the little filly from the Senior Wrangler’s hands. “Child, cease. He was merely looking out for the state of the world; I remember the last sourcerer. He was… not pleasant, for all that he was little older than you.”

Celestia flattened her ears back and mumbled “Sorry…”

Vetinari looked up. “So she is magical, intelligent, and neither of you have seen anything like her before?” Both wizards nodded. “Very well. Would either of you like some breakfast before you go? I recently hired a new cook, and she’s dismayed at how little we consume at the palace.[8] Maybe you could go and give her a challenge?”

Within seconds both wizards had vanished towards the palace kitchens. Vetinari looked down at the tiny pony now curled up upon his lap. “Drumknott?” he murmured. “Do you know anything about childcare?”

Drumknott stopped, then looked back at Vetinari. “Nothing my lord. It is not something which arises in my duties.” He stared at his lord for a moment, then ventured a question. “My lord, are you considering… keeping the filly?” He swallowed. “I apologize for my forwardness, but…”

“You wonder why?” Vetinari looked at Drumknott. “He turned and glanced over the documents on the desk. “According to these documents, and the manners of… Miss Celestia, she is obviously being groomed to be next in line for the throne of her kingdom.” He steeped his fingers. “However, judging that she was quite surprised to be here- and that her throne was brought here with her- indicates an accident or a twist of fate.”

He leaned back, allowing Celestia to settle onto his stomach. “She is magically powerful, which discounts squirrelling her away somewhere out-of-the way. She’ll draw attention and trouble easily. If she really is a noble, other nobles and royalty will seek to use her to their advantage.” He frowned. “That prevents leaving her with any of the common men, and makes the main of the nobility untrustworthy. Her education, care, and lessons might be needed immediately upon her return, and I would rather win another ally for Ankh-Morpork than a nation left adrift without a capable ruler. In short she must be cared for, protected, and educated without being trained in bigotry or preferences I don’t care for.” He looked up at Drumknott. “That means I must raise her, or oversee her being raised, until the time comes for her to go back to her people- and if she never does, someone like her must have a proper understanding of how the world really works.”

Drumknott’s brow furrowed. “Sir, you mentioned “most” families of the nobility are untrustworthy. Why not leave them with one of the ones you think are?”
Vetinari gave something, which on other men, might be considered a smile. “Because although I trust them as much as I’d trust any being in this city, they would not educate her correctly. More’s the pity, as they’ve proven to be capable parents.” He looked at Drumknott’s widening eyes. “Speaking of which, could you send a summons to the family in question? It’s been too long since I called Sir Vimes in here, and for once, I require his advice.”

Author's Note:

[1] It was always bleary in Ankh-Morpork.

[2] The Music with Rocks in, the Hogfather incident, Carcer Dunn… the list of magical mishaps on the disc would fill several books. And has.

[3] In point of fact, Ponder Stibbons had taken on the roles of so many faculty, he could alone vote on and pass any resolution he wanted within the university. Although Ridicully had no problem having Ponder handle all of the tasks he’d taken up, giving a single person that much power seemed like a bad idea. Many of the wizards in UU were therefore dismayed to see their titles returned to them, with all of the responsibilities that went with them.

[4] In traditional British universities, the tile “Senior Wrangler” refers either to the head of the philosophy department, or the head of the stables.

[5] “Do as I say, or experience life as a pumpkin for a few days.”

[6] For instance, he wasn’t feeling the need to prove why a group of wizards was commonly called a war, hadn’t seen any distortions of the magical field, and reality was still holding strong

[7] Mustrum was one of the few people who could reliably get away with calling Vetinari by his first name- in private, anyway. Vetinari understood he really didn’t control the Wizards- but they in turn understood that having him as an enemy would not end well at all. Most treated him as a particularly dangerous member of their own species; and only Mustrum himself could get away with treating him as an equal without sweating.

[8] While the amount of food the patrician’s palace consumed was not insubstantial, it was hardly great by the normal measure of palaces. Most palaces have state dinners, banquets, feasts, and corpulent kings and knights who order delicacies or whole roast pigs on a moment’s notice. Meanwhile, Havelock’s staff were more likely to order a sandwich and a small salad to eat while hunched over their desks or on the go, and Vetinari himself ate like a bird. So far, the chef’s dreams of tiered cakes and huge slabs of meat had met a slim reality.

Comments

[Jaro45]

I'm loving this story! It reads just like any other Discworld tale. The characters are spot on and the pacing is perfect.

Please keep writing. This is gold.

[Vaalintine]

So gar it seems to be keeping with Diskworld's style, which I like.

And holy crap Discord is a Sourcerer, it totally makes sense!

[Tale Swapper]

8253669
I had no plans to make Discord a Sourcerer. I have other plans for him.

[Will Rufus]

It says something when the only thing I can find to moan about is 'Sir Vimes', as it should be Sir Samuel. Otherwise, I look forward to reading this.

[KetchupAndRice]

I'm having visions on what Tia would do to mimes

[Ri2]

Yep. Yep, this is gonna be good.

[FTR2017]

"dread ascendency of Coin,"

I believe the correct term is "ascension", as in "dread ascension of Coin,".

Other than that, excellent chapter, and great use of the footnotes (a Pratchett staple). :)

[Bugsydor]

Most excellent use of footnotes.

I was going to suggest Vimes could raise her, and cackled at the possibilities that would spring therefrom, and then you invited him to the palace. Well played, sir. Well played.

This fic needs more views...

[LostArchivist]

8622832
Well of course. This is Vetinari, and you need to think like him.

Of course, given that he often seems to be like the Great Old Ones and incomprehensible to mortals, you simply expect it to be really pragmatic yet funny, and wait for the story to tell the rest.

[The Faceless Maker]

There was a long agreement of non-interference between the Unseen University, home of the wizards of the disc, and the city of Ankh-Morpork. Unlike magic on many worlds, Discworld magic is comparable, in many ways, to nuclear power- all well and good if used correctly, devastating if used incorrectly, and possessing numerous side effects if used at all.

quite similar to how magic applies to some of the people I've made up over the years...