An Interview With Tea

[caulkhead]

or, The world's least likely crossover (cont)

"Hey, Cheery! Let the boss know Igor says the bloke in number two's woken up!"

 

Changsu opened his eyes cautiously. He appeared to be in a cell, but as far as he could tell, it was neither the palace jail nor the Xuanjing bureau. The floor was dry, and the straw was clean, and the voice addressing him was brusque but not unkind.

 

"Better sit up slowly, you looked in a bad way when they brought you in. Here, have some of this, it’ll help with the shock."

 

He held the huge mug in both hands, letting the grateful warmth soak into his palms. He looked at the clay-red liquid dubiously, then raised it to his lips, trying not to breathe in. He drank Yan's medicine every day, he could drink this. He gulped it down, eyes closed. 

 

"Nice cup of tea with milk and three sugars, does the trick every time," said Igor happily.

 

This was tea? "Extraordinary," he said politely.

 

“Drink up. Himself wants to see you.”

 

…

 

The man behind the desk had ‘Commander’ written on him as clearly as if it had been stamped on his forehead, even without the armour piled on the chair behind him (what kind of soldier had metal armour, and then let it get in that state? And yet, his weapons seemed well kept...) and the drifts of paperwork in front of him. There was a cup of the unspeakable tea in front of him, and he appeared to be drinking it. Someone  put another cup in front of Changsu, so he did the same, carefully hiding his expression behind his sleeve.

 

“May I know why I am being held?” he asked eventually.

 

“Held? Oh, dear me no, you’re not being held, Mr, ah…”

 

“Su.”

 

“Su.” (and if that’s your real name I’ll eat my helmet, the commander’s expression said). “Let me put this plainly. You arrived, with a flash and a bang, I’m told, right in the middle of the road in front of my Watch station, and smack bang in front of a delivery of what I am assured is” - he checked a sheet of paper from the stack before him - “top quality Rimward porcelain. Scared the oxen and stampeded them right into Lady Selachii’s new carriage, and *that* took out a couple of thieves going about their lawful business, and they kicked over Dibbler’s sausage stand, and it all went downhill from there. My people are still sorting it out. And you flat in the middle of the whole thing, out cold and soaked to the skin in the middle of the driest summer we’ve had in years. My corporal brought you in for your own protection.”

 

“In that case, sir, allow me to thank you humbly for your hospitality and take my leave,” Changsu said smoothly, gathering his robes about him and making to rise, although he wasn’t completely sure his legs would support him yet.

 

“Not so fast. A flash and a bang, they said. And Igor said you were ‘interesting’, though he went all mysterious when I asked him why. And I don’t like mysteries, Mr. Su. So suppose you tell me the last thing you remember before you turned up here?”

 

He’d been making his way home from the palace, and there had been rain threatening, as there often was at this time of year. They’d been looking from somewhere to take shelter, and then…

 

“A storm?” he said vaguely. The man opposite him groaned and buried his head in his hands.

 

“Oh gods, don’t tell me. A lightning bolt? I don’t suppose you were chasing anybody down at the time, were you? Old wrongs to right?  Corrupt institutions to reform? Younger self to shake some sense into, any of that?”

 

Changsu produced his blandest and most non-committal smile, but his eyes had widened a fraction, and he knew the other man had noticed.

 

“If you’re thinking of trying to start a rebellion, don’t. Better men than you have tried. This city might not look like much to you, and gods, it sometimes doesn’t look like much to me, but it’s not mine, or yours, or any man’s, and I will do what I have to to keep it that way. Do I make myself clear?”

 

He turned away without waiting for Changsu’s answer - which, both of them were aware, would have been calm and polite and entirely meaningless - to yell “Enter” at the knock on the door. The young woman who came in response was martial and efficient (and wearing yet another set of metal armour), but something about her set all the fur that Changsu definitely did not have standing on end.

 

“Message from the Palace, sir. Patrician wants to see the new arrival straight away. They’re sending a carriage.”

 

“Of course he does. Does he want to see me too?”

 

“He didn’t say, sir.”

 

“Must be my lucky day.”

*on second thoughts, that might be NiF/Cabin Pressure. I've got one of those, too.

 

 

 

 

Comments

[azdak]

What frustrates me about Discworld is that the Patrician isn't reforming things

Maybe not so much now in his declining years, but he's made a lot of improvements since the days of Lord Snapcase! And the Guilds seem to more or less run themselves, even if they do need someone to keep an eye on them, and massive technological and social changes are incorporated successfully. Whereas Da Liang seems entirely frozen by its insanely hierarchical structure (an impression that is admittedly strengthened by the fact that other historical cdramas set in a later period show a society that only seem to have changed insofar as the ministers start wearing those hats with the huge social-distancing bows that stop them from whispering to each other during meetings and the civil service exam introduces an element of meritocracy into the bureaucracy.)

Delirium is definitely cheating! Lin Chen must have made some sort of deal/had an unfortunate encounter with some magic-using DW entity that resulted in an unexpected portal, through which MCS had the bad luck to fall.

[caulkhead]

Well,it's Discworld. Fate was probably playing dice again.

ETA And if anyone is going to play dice with fate, it's Lin Chen.

[azdak]

Haha! I rest my case!

[caulkhead]

He's made things better, but he's still made them better in a way that relies on Vetinari being Vetinari, at least politically (socially, I agree there's a much stronger argument); without him the whole thing would just deteriorate into infighting. The brake on power - the thing that means that once Vetinari's gone you don't just get another Snapcase - is not democracy as such, but the Watch. Vimes has done a much better job of succession planning.

Oh WAIT. If your closest cognate to the Watch is the Xuanjing Bureau, where does that leave you?

help, how did my fluffy silly fic start getting complicated?

[azdak]

If your closest cognate to the Watch is the Xuanjing Bureau, where does that leave you?

With a healthy distrust of Director Vimes, I hope! That would make for very exciting reading.

I'm willing to bet MCS also has vastly different cultural expectations for the Guild of Seamstresses.

Fluffy fic is great, but complicated fic is even better!