Some ravings about Lord Havelock Vetinari, Patrician of Ankh-Morpork, arguably the most influential man on the Disc and the multiverse's only democratic tyrant.
Nothing gets past this man. You'd have to wake up real early to pull one over on him. Actually, don't even bother going to bed at all. He knows everything, sees everything, as if just by looking out the window in the Oblong Office he can make sense of the teeming, chaotic ant hill that is Ankh-Morpork. He is an angel of death and second chances, purveyor of that oh-so-valuable commodity Hope, and distributor of its inside-out cousin: fear. He can silence a chaotic, screaming crowd with one word, and the mere twitch of his eyebrow has sent lesser mortals cowering in fear.
It can be argued that he has no feelings, but his devotion to his city challenges that definition. However, he maintains curious relationships with several figures: Drummknot, his silent secretary, an equally quiet confidant. Commander Samuel Vimes, a man though whom his conversations with are normally one sided, echoed only by differently-inflected "sirs," but who he has continually promoted, raising him through the ranks from a commonplace, drunk Night Watch officer to Duke of Ankh-Morpork. And indeed, this is not his only act of charity. He rescued Moist von Lipwig from the gallows and even gave Reacher Gilt a second chance at life.
An enigmatic relationship with the mysterious Lady Margolotta and a shady past with the Assassin's Guild add intrigue and darkness to his character. The day a man- or woman- predicts his next move, surely Vetinari will step down from the Patricianship to that all-powerful soul. Deciphering this man: black haired, black robed, black bearded- would take a lifetime of study. He plays Thud! masterfully with long pianist's fingers and has the art of strategic paper shuffling down to a tee.
Vetinari's power extends far and wide. The Assassin's Guild has refused to take contracts out on him, and he has grown old in his office- a claim few former Patricians can make. He wears the lilac on May 21st, has stopped a war with mere words, and manages to keep Ankh-Morpork in a stable state of peace. His hold over the city is complete and firm. The first sane Patrician in decades, he took the city and molded it into the working infrastructure it currently exists as. Perhaps it is because he made it that he can see every wheel and cog working, and can insert or remove obstacles as he sees fit with a master clockmaker's precision hand.
Ankh-Morpork would be nothing without Havelock Vetinari. Is it any wonder we love him?
A/N: Meh. Wrote this after reading Going Postal... or was it Making Money? Anyways, a crappy character study I came across while uploading another fic, and I figured why not publish it. If even one person agrees with this, it will have been worth it, right? (PS to that one person: leave a review, please, so we can talk it over. ))