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The castle is cold.
Hot fires rage in the rooms that see the most use, but the heat is quickly absorbed by the chill stone of the walls, drinking it down like blood as the cold wind whispers through the cracks in the windows and make the curtains shiver and twist.
It is all incredibly melodramatic, thinks Havelock with resigned disdain.
The days go by, and the weather doesn't become any less dramatic - the day the sun shines bright and pale onto the brilliantly frosted landscape is a kind of change, but not exactly pleasant for a new vampire - and he can't help but feel it isn't quite real.
Ankh-Morpork is possibily the sewer of the Disc, but it is filled with life, and real problems and people. So is the bar, in it's own fantastical way.
His lessons are going well, but he is beginning to feel restless.
Hot fires rage in the rooms that see the most use, but the heat is quickly absorbed by the chill stone of the walls, drinking it down like blood as the cold wind whispers through the cracks in the windows and make the curtains shiver and twist.
It is all incredibly melodramatic, thinks Havelock with resigned disdain.
The days go by, and the weather doesn't become any less dramatic - the day the sun shines bright and pale onto the brilliantly frosted landscape is a kind of change, but not exactly pleasant for a new vampire - and he can't help but feel it isn't quite real.
Ankh-Morpork is possibily the sewer of the Disc, but it is filled with life, and real problems and people. So is the bar, in it's own fantastical way.
His lessons are going well, but he is beginning to feel restless.
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Date: 2010-03-24 10:25 pm (UTC)From:He also accepts that he may be trying to distract himself with self-analysis.
It would be better if he focused on his training really, he thinks, ducking a sideways slash of Lady Margolotta's rapier. But what kind of politician can't carry more than one line of thought at once?
There comes an irritated snort from his opponent. "Boy, do you think shirts are disposable?"
Hmm, she had indeed nicked him. It isn't worth the thought, as it would have been before. Instinct is the key to fighting like this. It could also be his downfall, if he forgets to think. It's just one more thing to learn - the difference between a wound he can shrug off, and one that could incapacitate him long enough to be killed.
Possibly.
He's a little fuzzy on that score.
He will ask about it this morning, when Margolotta stops pushing him physically, and will talk to him like a fond and friendly relative again.
(He hates being patronised so, but can't help but find it amusing, even without Puck to mimic her after she has retired. The memory is enough to balance his new tendency towards darker fury when he gets frustrated with his lack of progress.)
He is improving every day, he can grudgingly tell. Margolotta will not tell him when she thinks he will be ready, but he thinks he will know.
It's enough.