oneman_onevote | Extremely melodramatic AU: The revenge!

The castle is chill, in the hallways, and dark apart from pools of light created by torches placed at wide intervals on the walls.

Havelock is moving, if possible, even more silently than usual. He'd be twitchy if that wasn't a surefire way to mess up your stealth. The shadows are blending obligingly around him, more strongly here than they had in the bar.

Puck can take care of himself, he knows that, but also holds out no hope that any of this is going to be particularly pleasant.

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Puck hisses sharply.

One of the advantages to having a general, innate knack for power is that one can see such influences as these coming a mile away.

This does not always mean that one can stop them.

In this case, Puck's eyes narrow as he shrugs off the command easily enough, letting it slip sideways like surfacing from a pool of water-- but it's when he catches sight of Havelock that he gets truly angry.

"Have you not meddled with him enough, mistress?"

His tone's politeness just barely covers his rage, which is probably visible anyway in the set of his shoulders and a sudden clenching of his fist.

"'Tis I who is your mystery, just at present. If you cannot unriddle me on your own, I shall be delighted to better instruct thee."

The vampire holds up one hand imperiously to him, gesturing for him to wait, and her gaze slides sideways.

"Split the thoughts apart," she instructs Havelock coolly. "Remember. Mine from yours. You have done this before without knowledge, now do it consciously."

Yes.

Havelock's head comes up again, eyes still distant but clearer, and looks back at her thoughtfully.

...Seeing the expression of sheer outrage on Puck's face helps his focus on reality, too. It doesn't really mesh with the warm haze of hypnotic thought that he is rapidly shaking off.

Edited Date: 2010-02-15 08:21 pm (UTC)

It's sort of a no you DI'IN'T kind of expression.

Puck arches his eyebrows at Margolotta, folding his arms over his chest with an air of indulgent and expectant patience.

The magical boy is rather entertaining, really.

Margolotta nods, then drops her hand again.

"Good," she says. "You vill grow less susceptible, Havelock. Then you vill learn to do it yourself."

Puck rolls his eyes.

And clears his throat.

(He may not look it, but he's ready to disappear at an instant's notice.

Havelock warned him not to underestimate her.

... But maybe, if he's lucky, that's precisely what she'll do to him.)

The throat-clearing gives Havelock an excuse to look over.

"Yes," he says quietly. "It was easier this time."

His tone may be intending to convey several things, but what mostly comes across is determination. He may not like Margolotta much, but what he can learn from her is invaluable.

Puck frowns faintly, as if he is in thought; then he nods, slight.

His lips may quirk at the corners for a moment as he looks at Havelock.

Margolotta regards them both with keen interest.

"Oh, indeed," she says after a moment, and smiles a little as well.

"You are subject to influence just now, but not subservient, after all."

Havelock's eyes narrow just slightly.

"I rather hope that will not last," he says, cool and conversational.

"I think I quite share the sentiment," Puck observes dryly.

That look from Margolotta makes him sort of worried he blew their cover again.

Duo says he makes goofy lovey faces sometimes when he talks about Havelock.

Stupid Duo.

"Vell, you must practise, then, must you not?" Margolotta tells him.

She is apparently ignoring any realisations of epic love in the room in favour of giving Havelock a look of assessment.

"No vun may say I do not train those of mine properly."

That sound you hear?

Is a choked back, swallowed down snarl.

Havelock Vetinari is the only reason he's not staking this woman. (The stakes are in his pocket, currently in the form of brightly colored buttons. Always come prepared!)

"I learn nothing poorly," Havelock says, and there is, finally, a faint edge under his voice.

He hates this too.

The fact that displaying rebellion may distract Margolotta from Puck for a moment is quite besides the point.

"Do you not? How nice to know," she says, with a slow smile for his reaction. Or perhaps for both of them.

"Igor?"

Igor is, of course, right behind her.

"Yeth, madam?"

Puck ... blinks.

His glance to Havelock seems to say DO YOU KNOW THIS GUY.

Havelock's answering glance may have been meant to carry confirmation.

He's extra blank at the moment, as if to make up for his momentary slip before.

Margolotta turns, resigned to the vagarities of the Igors. Despite their little oddities, no Uberwaldian worth mentioning would dream of being without one.

"Ah, Igor," she says briskly. "Ve have an extra guest. Tell me, do you drink... vine, my unnamed visitor?"

Puck bites back an urge to say none of yours, dear lady and takes his blandness from Havelock.

"As it happens, my unnamed hostess, I do."

"Very good," she says. "Igor, vould you be so kind?"

Igor is fixing Puck with the kind of look that communicates, quite effectively, jutht what are YOU looking at.

"Thertainly, madam," he says with dignity and an impeccable lisp. "I'll jutht nip down to the thellar, shall I?"

And, scraping a bow, he turns and leaves the room.

Havelock is mildly disturbed by this development.

He covers it by walking to the sword rack to put his rapier away.

(If he has to walk close by Puck in order to do this... well. Sacrifices have to be made.)

Havelock is exceedingly noble.

Puck is sure Margolotta won't miss it, but as Havelock passes he reaches out to brush the back of his hand with his fingertips.

They're warm.

Havelock is too, but it's the warmth you get from standing in a warm room, no more.

His eyes flicker sideways just once, to catch the brightness of his eyes, before he turns around, back to the fire, cautiously watching the other vampire.

(Because - he opens up and relaxes with Puck; but he closes off when there is danger, it's safer and easier to think. Having him here is a comfort-- he can't be so cold as he might be alone.)