DVD meme response thingy for Ji.
Aug. 19th, 2004 01:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tammaiyaJi's birthday fic, with commentary. Warnings again for Wyrd Sisters spoilers and incest. (I just typed incent, you know. I should really go to sleep. *yawn*)
Verence used to wonder, as a child, what it would be like to have a twin. A mirror image, someone like him, someone who would understand the way he thought and someone who would help him survive growing up in the misery of the Fools' Guild.
Doesn't everybody? It's a natural thing to want as a child, I guess. Or at least, that's what I always thought. When you're an only child- or the youngest by about eight years, like me- and you're a bully target, you want someone around who's your age, who's always around and who'll always be there for you. Of course there's a bit of idealising about that- having a twin isn't the same as having two of yourself, and there's obviously going to be downsides (people thinking you're interchangable for one), but the fact remains that it would be very lonely to be in Verence's position, ie in a hostile environment with no one there for you.
As he got older, he used to look in the mirror and think about all the ways he wished he looked. Still himself, only better.
Okay, basically ALL teenagers wish they looked better. Don't try to convince me otherwise, because I will not believe you.
He thinks it's ironic that these two wishes, that of a child and that of a teenager, have combined to haunt him. Tomjon is like a better version of him, as if he was a faulty original and Tomjon were the perfect final copy. Verence always wanted a brother, but as an only child he had never understood the concept of sibling rivalry. Of jealousy, of wondering why didn't I get the good genes?
Only children tend to overlook the downsides of having siblings, and children with siblings tend to overlook the downsides to being sibling-less. The grass is always greener, and all that jazz.
Tomjon is portrayed as basically being perfect, in the book- handsome, nice, talented, etc. And if you've got siblings, the "why didn't *I* get those genes?" is a common question. My sister wants to know why I tan and she doesn't; I never cease to be annoyed at how freakishly smart my brother is. Yet simulataneously, I'm proud that my brother is that smart, and I think this would be the way Verence would see it too, the dualistic jealousy/pride.
Also I like irony.
… shutting up now.
In a way, though… in a way, he suspects that maybe there was a difference between this relationship and other sibling relationships, because they hadn't grown up together. He's pretty sure that he's not supposed to think these weird things about Tomjon being his better self, and he's almost positive that he isn't supposed to notice the perfect way the black hair curls around the actor's neck to frame his perfect face. Verence knows that it's wrong to think like that, and despises himself for it, but it's hard to think of someone as your brother when you meet them for the first time as an adult.
Okay, the hardest thing about writing this fic was trying to understand the psychology of incest. Like, it does happen. And I can kind of understand it, though I have to say I'm not attracted to my brother or sister. However, my job was made a lot easier by the fact that they didn't grow up in a family relationship, as that is supposed to make incest a lot more likely. While intellectually Verence knows Tomjon is his brother, he lacks the usual grounding of being raised with him, and is therefore not desensitised to his pheremones (or whatever) and nor is he blind to Tomjon's adult appearance. If you grow up with a family member- particularly a younger family member- a part of you always tends to see them as a child and remember what they looked like. Verence doesn't even know what Tomjon looked like when he was younger, so not an issue.
When you meet them, and they're ridiculously gorgeous.
It's strange looking into a distorted reflection of what you could have been if you weren't flawed, and it's as if his mind can't decide whether to be jealous or to let him be drawn dangerously close like a moth to the flame. It's a moot point, though; Tomjon isn't going to hang around long enough for it to make a difference, and he's way out of Verence's league anyway.
Imagine the blow to an already-fragile ego of meeting your brother and finding that they are better than you in every possible way you can imagine. They are exactly what you wanted to be, and could have been if you'd been born with slightly different genes. (Or in this case, with the blessing of one's three godmothers. But Verence doesn't know that, so shh.) Now imagine on top of that, you're attracted to them. Vernce is a nice guy; a part of him would want to hate Tomjon for being perfect, but he'd be more likely to hate himself for it. And for being attracted to him. Verence is very self-effacing and probably self-hating; his self-esteem is pretty much non-existant, so he'd have a desperate need for Tomjon to like him and a just as vehement certainty that there was nothing about him for Tomjon to like. Hence, slightly bitter wistfulness, and torn between love/hate. Attraction/jealousy, anyway.
In both senses of the phrase.
… Come on, this is me. Did you really think I'd resist the temptation of a double entendre? Especially one encapsulating both the jealousy (I can't compete with him) and the attraction (I'm not good enough for him)!
Jealous or no, Verence can't compete with Tomjon for anything except money, and that's the kind of contest he just doesn't want to know about. He grew up poor- he hates people who flash gold around like it's some kind of trinket, and he'd rather jump off the top of his own castle than become one of those snobs.
People who grew up poor and became relatively well off or even rich as adults tend to be a lot more sensitive to money gaps than people who grew up priveleged, obviously. For example, I know I take a lot more for granted than my father does.
As for the attraction he wishes so hard he could deny? Even if Tomjon weren't to leave and even if it weren't wrong, he knows he's not good enough. He's not brave, or smart, or good-looking. He hasn't got any of the bright and shining qualities his half-brother possesses. All he is is… him. Someone who tries their hardest but somehow always manages to mess everything up anyway.
This essentially sums up Verence's approach to himself in Wyrd Sisters; he thinks he can't do anything, and that's a large part of his problem. You're much less likely to succeed if you don't believe you can. Furthermore, Verence doesn't see his blood relationship to Tomjon as anywhere near as much of an obstacle as his own unworthiness.
Sighing, he turns from watching his appearance flicker in the murky pond to find the subject of his musing right behind him. The surprise of seeing Tomjon Vitoller standing so close to him when he was entertaining such thoughts is enough to make him jump back in shock and, slipping on the muddy grass, fall back gracelessly into the shallow pool. He surfaces with water up his nose and a slimy carp swimming around his ankles, giving him the shudders. Coughing and spitting, he rubs a cold dripping hand across his eyes and looks up miserably at his better self, whom he fully expects to burst out with derisive laughter.
Verence: Ever clumsy, eternal pessimest. And here I was aiming for Pratchett's rather dry sense of unromanticism, with the carp. Did I succeed?
Instead he offers a hand and a warm smile, and for that Verence loves and hates him all the more. Of course his better half would have to be a good person on top of everything else. Was it too much to ask that he have a single fault?
In the books, Tomjon is always nice and helpful. Just think back to when Dafe was having trouble acting Death- he's that kind of person.
Of course, Verence is grateful that Tomjon is nice to him. He's unaccustomed to people treating him like this- the only one who'd come close is Magrat, and he hasn't known her long either. On the other hand, though, he's probably also subconsciously waiting for the other foot to drop.
And as mentioned above, he's distressed that Tomjon has no faults whatsoever. Tomjon certainly has reason enough to be arrogant, after all; if Verence were to surpass Tomjon in anything, it would be personality.
Alas, no dice.
"Thanks," he says gratefully, and feels rather pathetic. At least he hasn't thrown up any pond water.
"My pleasure," Tomjon says kindly, grabbing him by the wrist and hauling him back onto the bank. "Granny said I might find you here."
You were looking for me?
Verence, self-effacing as he is, doesn't even consider that Tomjon might be interested in getting to know his older brother.
"Yes, I thought that we should perhaps try to get to know each other."
I can so easily see Verence being the kind of character who'd accidentally say what he was thinking. He's just that adorably dorky.
He must have said that aloud. Oops. Tomjon is looking at him expectantly, not so much hopeful as patient, and Verence blinks. "Um…"
"That is fine with you, yes?" Tomjon adds.
Always very polite but aiming to get his own way, our Tomjon. I think he probably manipulates without even realising he's doing it.
Verence suddenly wonders if Tomjon is always acting, playing some undefined role appropriate to the situation. Loyal friend, dutiful son, loving brother. Tomjon seems to have the ability to be whoever he wants to be, but does that mean he tries to be what everyone else wants him to be? Is there really a Tomjon, or did he lose himself behind all the masks he plays? Does he even know who he is?
Look, I have to say, this concept scares the CRAP out of me. Tomjon has the gift of being whoever he thinks he is- but have you ever considered how that would actually work? When you're a teenager you go through various stages trying to find out who you are. What kind of identity issues would you have if you could be anything? You would always be what other people wanted or expected you to be, because that would be what you thought you should be. And if you change depending on who you're with, who are you? Who is the real you? Would you really exist, or would you be like a fragmented mirror, just reflecting back pieces of those around you? When you're alone, who are you? Creepy, like I said. I've had identiy crises like this before- lots of people have, probably- and I don't even have Tomjon's gift/curse.
Verence shivers, disturbed by the almost creepy tone of that concept. He had wished briefly that he had that chameleon-like ability, but if it were a choice of essentially not existing inside all the parts you pretended to be and being yourself? He'd prefer to be himself, despite the fact that he didn't even like being himself.
If you could choose between being perfect and an illusion or being flawed and real, which would you be? In the end, I think Verence got the better deal in that respect, and for all his self-hatred, he's sensible enough to realise that.
Tomjon is looking at him thoughtfully, and with a thrill of bewilderment and a slight blush, Verence realises Tomjon is still holding onto his wrist. "Er, Tomjon?"
"Yes?" Tomjon asks politely, and follows Verence's glance downwards. "Oh, excuse me."
Tomjon, of course, did that on purpose. See what I meant about subtle manipulation? He's courteous, as always, but he gets his way.
He doesn't let go though, and Verence is intensely confused. He doesn't understand Tomjon by any stretch of the imagination- doesn't understand how he thinks, or what he is truly like, and most of all he doesn't understand why someone like Tomjon would ever bother to spend time with him, half-brother or not. For that matter… why was Tomjon still holding his arm?
Poor Verence, so confused. Tomjon, in a sense, exists on a higher plane than Verence. Verence doesn't know him, only sees the perfection, so clearly the workings of Tomjon's mind are going to completely elude him. Still putting himself down, here, and still unable to contemplate Tomjon's being interested in him even as a brother let alone the rather less platonic way Verence is interested in Tomjon.
Though I have to say that latter doubt is reasonable, given the whole incest thing. Anyway.
"Tomjon?" Verence says uncertainly. "Why…?"
"Because," Tomjon answers, though that isn't really an answer at all. Before Verence can point that out, though, Tomjon yanks him forward and, grabbing his brother's hair with his free hand, pulls him into a very unexpected kiss.
Tomjon is very self-assured. He's 18, and there's never been anything he hasn't been able to achieve. I doubt he even sees the inherent moral issue of him kissing Verence; he wants to, and therefore it is right. For Tomjon, because IS a reason.
It is bittersweet like honey laced with cyanide, and it just figures that Tomjon would be a good kisser too. He should have been king and Verence knew it; all thoughts of age aside, he knows that Tomjon would do a better job. Tomjon is good at everything, just as if he is always playing another character. Verence, on the other hand, is quite sure he isn't good at anything. He wasn't even good at being a fool, and he'd done that most of his life. How is he supposed to figure out this kinging business when he has nothing to go on?
I really liked that honey-laced-with-cyanide description at the time I wrote this. In fact, I kind of still do. I like the way it suggests something sweet but poisonous- sweet, since this is what Verence not-so-subconsciously wanted but thought was beyond his reach, and poisonous because tada! Another thing Tomjon is impossibly good at.
Also, Verence probably has a deep instinctual fear that he's being mocked in an intricate, elaborate fashion.
More Verence insecurities. He's expressed doubts as to his own suitability as king in canon, if I remember correctly. Given the way he feels about Tomjon, he'd definitely think Tomjon would be a better king.
When Tomjon finally releases his mouth, he sways on the spot and probably would collapse if the actor hadn't kept a firm hold on both his arm and his neck.
Smart, Tomjon. Good at reading people, which is why he gets away with so much. And why he has the foresight to make sure the moment isn't ruined by Verence falling back in the pond.
"Huh?" Verence says woozily, shaking his head and staring up with a bemused expression.
"Because I always wondered what it would be like to kiss my mirror image," Tomjon explains, and before Verence can object that they don't look that alike, not really, Tomjon is kissing him again.
Good old irony. If one brother thinks it, why not the other? It brings in a nice symmetry, too. Mirror symbolism, as it were.
Beyond that, while Verence isn't perfect, I think that would actually be appealing to Tomjon. Verence is real, like I said; Tomjon lives in a world of shadows and mirrors and dreams and pretense. He probably feels as much like the insubstantial mirror image as Verence does the flawed copy. They are, in a sense, seeking to complete themselves through their brother and opposite- Tomjon the ethereal perfection, Verence the corporeal and flawed. Kind of like angels and humans.
… Okay, this is getting a bit warped now. Ignore that last line, I certainly wasn't thinking THAT when I wrote it.
"I always wanted an older brother," Tomjon comments when they break away the second time, sounding just a little breathless, and this time Verence's knees give out and he does crash to the damp and squishy ground. He doesn't think now is the time to mention the fact that generally this isn't how brothers ought to behave, however tactfully he puts it.
Verence isn't blunt. That would be a very embarrassing thing to say. Besides, why push his luck when things are going so well?
"That's nice," Verence replies, and was his voice always that high-pitched? "I always wanted a younger brother."
The fact that he had wanted a younger brother so he could have had someone to take his frustration out on is unimportant.
Attempt at Pratchettian humour, there.
"Would you be happy to see me were I ever to visit again?" Tomjon inquires, and it takes Verence a second to recognise that the subtle unaccustomed change to his brother's voice was a note of uncertainty. He feels oddly reassured by this.
Yes, uncertainty, which is reassuring because it shows Verence three things: in some small way, he has power of Tomjon (which is a big thing for someone who has spent their life as a doormat), Tomjon actually wants his company, and not so perfect after all.
It could be more manipulation, I suppose. I like to think it's not, though- I don't think Tomjon is consciously manipulative, just instinctively, and I think this is how he truly feels. Maybe he chose subconsciously to let the uncertainty show; maybe not. He could have concealed it if he'd tried. Then again, maybe he's off his guard and trying to be himself around Verence.
"Of course," Verence answers, and Tomjon's smile is so dazzling that it's as if the sun has come out after a month of rain. Verence doesn't feel jealous this time, though, because he finds he's happy to be around Tomjon but he doesn't want to be him anymore.
For which I am very glad, because really- how kinky would that be? Seriously, though, the death of Verence's jealousy- Tomjon has a perfect smile on top of everything else, but by now he's realised that Tomjon might have problems and insecurites too, and also that he's happy to have Tomjon with him. If you want to spend time with someone, you can't be them. It doesn't work.
Being Verence isn't so bad, not really. He's got Magrat, and he's sure he'll figure out this whole king-thing with time. Maybe he won't do the best job in history, but both he and Lancre will survive it through.
He is a lot more optomistic in the later books, you've got to admit. He always tries, even when it seems like the fates are against him in a vaguely ambivalent manner, and he does end up doing a passable job. As a matter of fact, he does a much better job than one would suspect the majority of kings do.
Besides… he has a brother now. And if Tomjon has confidence in him, that's enough for him to find confidence in himself.
The obligatory sappy ending. Though I don't really have a problem with this one; Verence is the kind of character who finds it much easier to have faith in himself if someone else does first. Especially someone he idealises as much as he does Tomjon.
Anyway, the end. Why does this meme always make me feel like a bizarre mixture of airheaded wanker? Not to say I don't enjoy it, though, 'cause I do.
Jesus, why did I use so many italics? AAAAAAARGH. *dead* Hopefully it is not horribly obvious that I did this at one AM. *shifty look*
Also, happy birthday to Helgy!
Verence used to wonder, as a child, what it would be like to have a twin. A mirror image, someone like him, someone who would understand the way he thought and someone who would help him survive growing up in the misery of the Fools' Guild.
Doesn't everybody? It's a natural thing to want as a child, I guess. Or at least, that's what I always thought. When you're an only child- or the youngest by about eight years, like me- and you're a bully target, you want someone around who's your age, who's always around and who'll always be there for you. Of course there's a bit of idealising about that- having a twin isn't the same as having two of yourself, and there's obviously going to be downsides (people thinking you're interchangable for one), but the fact remains that it would be very lonely to be in Verence's position, ie in a hostile environment with no one there for you.
As he got older, he used to look in the mirror and think about all the ways he wished he looked. Still himself, only better.
Okay, basically ALL teenagers wish they looked better. Don't try to convince me otherwise, because I will not believe you.
He thinks it's ironic that these two wishes, that of a child and that of a teenager, have combined to haunt him. Tomjon is like a better version of him, as if he was a faulty original and Tomjon were the perfect final copy. Verence always wanted a brother, but as an only child he had never understood the concept of sibling rivalry. Of jealousy, of wondering why didn't I get the good genes?
Only children tend to overlook the downsides of having siblings, and children with siblings tend to overlook the downsides to being sibling-less. The grass is always greener, and all that jazz.
Tomjon is portrayed as basically being perfect, in the book- handsome, nice, talented, etc. And if you've got siblings, the "why didn't *I* get those genes?" is a common question. My sister wants to know why I tan and she doesn't; I never cease to be annoyed at how freakishly smart my brother is. Yet simulataneously, I'm proud that my brother is that smart, and I think this would be the way Verence would see it too, the dualistic jealousy/pride.
Also I like irony.
… shutting up now.
In a way, though… in a way, he suspects that maybe there was a difference between this relationship and other sibling relationships, because they hadn't grown up together. He's pretty sure that he's not supposed to think these weird things about Tomjon being his better self, and he's almost positive that he isn't supposed to notice the perfect way the black hair curls around the actor's neck to frame his perfect face. Verence knows that it's wrong to think like that, and despises himself for it, but it's hard to think of someone as your brother when you meet them for the first time as an adult.
Okay, the hardest thing about writing this fic was trying to understand the psychology of incest. Like, it does happen. And I can kind of understand it, though I have to say I'm not attracted to my brother or sister. However, my job was made a lot easier by the fact that they didn't grow up in a family relationship, as that is supposed to make incest a lot more likely. While intellectually Verence knows Tomjon is his brother, he lacks the usual grounding of being raised with him, and is therefore not desensitised to his pheremones (or whatever) and nor is he blind to Tomjon's adult appearance. If you grow up with a family member- particularly a younger family member- a part of you always tends to see them as a child and remember what they looked like. Verence doesn't even know what Tomjon looked like when he was younger, so not an issue.
When you meet them, and they're ridiculously gorgeous.
It's strange looking into a distorted reflection of what you could have been if you weren't flawed, and it's as if his mind can't decide whether to be jealous or to let him be drawn dangerously close like a moth to the flame. It's a moot point, though; Tomjon isn't going to hang around long enough for it to make a difference, and he's way out of Verence's league anyway.
Imagine the blow to an already-fragile ego of meeting your brother and finding that they are better than you in every possible way you can imagine. They are exactly what you wanted to be, and could have been if you'd been born with slightly different genes. (Or in this case, with the blessing of one's three godmothers. But Verence doesn't know that, so shh.) Now imagine on top of that, you're attracted to them. Vernce is a nice guy; a part of him would want to hate Tomjon for being perfect, but he'd be more likely to hate himself for it. And for being attracted to him. Verence is very self-effacing and probably self-hating; his self-esteem is pretty much non-existant, so he'd have a desperate need for Tomjon to like him and a just as vehement certainty that there was nothing about him for Tomjon to like. Hence, slightly bitter wistfulness, and torn between love/hate. Attraction/jealousy, anyway.
In both senses of the phrase.
… Come on, this is me. Did you really think I'd resist the temptation of a double entendre? Especially one encapsulating both the jealousy (I can't compete with him) and the attraction (I'm not good enough for him)!
Jealous or no, Verence can't compete with Tomjon for anything except money, and that's the kind of contest he just doesn't want to know about. He grew up poor- he hates people who flash gold around like it's some kind of trinket, and he'd rather jump off the top of his own castle than become one of those snobs.
People who grew up poor and became relatively well off or even rich as adults tend to be a lot more sensitive to money gaps than people who grew up priveleged, obviously. For example, I know I take a lot more for granted than my father does.
As for the attraction he wishes so hard he could deny? Even if Tomjon weren't to leave and even if it weren't wrong, he knows he's not good enough. He's not brave, or smart, or good-looking. He hasn't got any of the bright and shining qualities his half-brother possesses. All he is is… him. Someone who tries their hardest but somehow always manages to mess everything up anyway.
This essentially sums up Verence's approach to himself in Wyrd Sisters; he thinks he can't do anything, and that's a large part of his problem. You're much less likely to succeed if you don't believe you can. Furthermore, Verence doesn't see his blood relationship to Tomjon as anywhere near as much of an obstacle as his own unworthiness.
Sighing, he turns from watching his appearance flicker in the murky pond to find the subject of his musing right behind him. The surprise of seeing Tomjon Vitoller standing so close to him when he was entertaining such thoughts is enough to make him jump back in shock and, slipping on the muddy grass, fall back gracelessly into the shallow pool. He surfaces with water up his nose and a slimy carp swimming around his ankles, giving him the shudders. Coughing and spitting, he rubs a cold dripping hand across his eyes and looks up miserably at his better self, whom he fully expects to burst out with derisive laughter.
Verence: Ever clumsy, eternal pessimest. And here I was aiming for Pratchett's rather dry sense of unromanticism, with the carp. Did I succeed?
Instead he offers a hand and a warm smile, and for that Verence loves and hates him all the more. Of course his better half would have to be a good person on top of everything else. Was it too much to ask that he have a single fault?
In the books, Tomjon is always nice and helpful. Just think back to when Dafe was having trouble acting Death- he's that kind of person.
Of course, Verence is grateful that Tomjon is nice to him. He's unaccustomed to people treating him like this- the only one who'd come close is Magrat, and he hasn't known her long either. On the other hand, though, he's probably also subconsciously waiting for the other foot to drop.
And as mentioned above, he's distressed that Tomjon has no faults whatsoever. Tomjon certainly has reason enough to be arrogant, after all; if Verence were to surpass Tomjon in anything, it would be personality.
Alas, no dice.
"Thanks," he says gratefully, and feels rather pathetic. At least he hasn't thrown up any pond water.
"My pleasure," Tomjon says kindly, grabbing him by the wrist and hauling him back onto the bank. "Granny said I might find you here."
You were looking for me?
Verence, self-effacing as he is, doesn't even consider that Tomjon might be interested in getting to know his older brother.
"Yes, I thought that we should perhaps try to get to know each other."
I can so easily see Verence being the kind of character who'd accidentally say what he was thinking. He's just that adorably dorky.
He must have said that aloud. Oops. Tomjon is looking at him expectantly, not so much hopeful as patient, and Verence blinks. "Um…"
"That is fine with you, yes?" Tomjon adds.
Always very polite but aiming to get his own way, our Tomjon. I think he probably manipulates without even realising he's doing it.
Verence suddenly wonders if Tomjon is always acting, playing some undefined role appropriate to the situation. Loyal friend, dutiful son, loving brother. Tomjon seems to have the ability to be whoever he wants to be, but does that mean he tries to be what everyone else wants him to be? Is there really a Tomjon, or did he lose himself behind all the masks he plays? Does he even know who he is?
Look, I have to say, this concept scares the CRAP out of me. Tomjon has the gift of being whoever he thinks he is- but have you ever considered how that would actually work? When you're a teenager you go through various stages trying to find out who you are. What kind of identity issues would you have if you could be anything? You would always be what other people wanted or expected you to be, because that would be what you thought you should be. And if you change depending on who you're with, who are you? Who is the real you? Would you really exist, or would you be like a fragmented mirror, just reflecting back pieces of those around you? When you're alone, who are you? Creepy, like I said. I've had identiy crises like this before- lots of people have, probably- and I don't even have Tomjon's gift/curse.
Verence shivers, disturbed by the almost creepy tone of that concept. He had wished briefly that he had that chameleon-like ability, but if it were a choice of essentially not existing inside all the parts you pretended to be and being yourself? He'd prefer to be himself, despite the fact that he didn't even like being himself.
If you could choose between being perfect and an illusion or being flawed and real, which would you be? In the end, I think Verence got the better deal in that respect, and for all his self-hatred, he's sensible enough to realise that.
Tomjon is looking at him thoughtfully, and with a thrill of bewilderment and a slight blush, Verence realises Tomjon is still holding onto his wrist. "Er, Tomjon?"
"Yes?" Tomjon asks politely, and follows Verence's glance downwards. "Oh, excuse me."
Tomjon, of course, did that on purpose. See what I meant about subtle manipulation? He's courteous, as always, but he gets his way.
He doesn't let go though, and Verence is intensely confused. He doesn't understand Tomjon by any stretch of the imagination- doesn't understand how he thinks, or what he is truly like, and most of all he doesn't understand why someone like Tomjon would ever bother to spend time with him, half-brother or not. For that matter… why was Tomjon still holding his arm?
Poor Verence, so confused. Tomjon, in a sense, exists on a higher plane than Verence. Verence doesn't know him, only sees the perfection, so clearly the workings of Tomjon's mind are going to completely elude him. Still putting himself down, here, and still unable to contemplate Tomjon's being interested in him even as a brother let alone the rather less platonic way Verence is interested in Tomjon.
Though I have to say that latter doubt is reasonable, given the whole incest thing. Anyway.
"Tomjon?" Verence says uncertainly. "Why…?"
"Because," Tomjon answers, though that isn't really an answer at all. Before Verence can point that out, though, Tomjon yanks him forward and, grabbing his brother's hair with his free hand, pulls him into a very unexpected kiss.
Tomjon is very self-assured. He's 18, and there's never been anything he hasn't been able to achieve. I doubt he even sees the inherent moral issue of him kissing Verence; he wants to, and therefore it is right. For Tomjon, because IS a reason.
It is bittersweet like honey laced with cyanide, and it just figures that Tomjon would be a good kisser too. He should have been king and Verence knew it; all thoughts of age aside, he knows that Tomjon would do a better job. Tomjon is good at everything, just as if he is always playing another character. Verence, on the other hand, is quite sure he isn't good at anything. He wasn't even good at being a fool, and he'd done that most of his life. How is he supposed to figure out this kinging business when he has nothing to go on?
I really liked that honey-laced-with-cyanide description at the time I wrote this. In fact, I kind of still do. I like the way it suggests something sweet but poisonous- sweet, since this is what Verence not-so-subconsciously wanted but thought was beyond his reach, and poisonous because tada! Another thing Tomjon is impossibly good at.
Also, Verence probably has a deep instinctual fear that he's being mocked in an intricate, elaborate fashion.
More Verence insecurities. He's expressed doubts as to his own suitability as king in canon, if I remember correctly. Given the way he feels about Tomjon, he'd definitely think Tomjon would be a better king.
When Tomjon finally releases his mouth, he sways on the spot and probably would collapse if the actor hadn't kept a firm hold on both his arm and his neck.
Smart, Tomjon. Good at reading people, which is why he gets away with so much. And why he has the foresight to make sure the moment isn't ruined by Verence falling back in the pond.
"Huh?" Verence says woozily, shaking his head and staring up with a bemused expression.
"Because I always wondered what it would be like to kiss my mirror image," Tomjon explains, and before Verence can object that they don't look that alike, not really, Tomjon is kissing him again.
Good old irony. If one brother thinks it, why not the other? It brings in a nice symmetry, too. Mirror symbolism, as it were.
Beyond that, while Verence isn't perfect, I think that would actually be appealing to Tomjon. Verence is real, like I said; Tomjon lives in a world of shadows and mirrors and dreams and pretense. He probably feels as much like the insubstantial mirror image as Verence does the flawed copy. They are, in a sense, seeking to complete themselves through their brother and opposite- Tomjon the ethereal perfection, Verence the corporeal and flawed. Kind of like angels and humans.
… Okay, this is getting a bit warped now. Ignore that last line, I certainly wasn't thinking THAT when I wrote it.
"I always wanted an older brother," Tomjon comments when they break away the second time, sounding just a little breathless, and this time Verence's knees give out and he does crash to the damp and squishy ground. He doesn't think now is the time to mention the fact that generally this isn't how brothers ought to behave, however tactfully he puts it.
Verence isn't blunt. That would be a very embarrassing thing to say. Besides, why push his luck when things are going so well?
"That's nice," Verence replies, and was his voice always that high-pitched? "I always wanted a younger brother."
The fact that he had wanted a younger brother so he could have had someone to take his frustration out on is unimportant.
Attempt at Pratchettian humour, there.
"Would you be happy to see me were I ever to visit again?" Tomjon inquires, and it takes Verence a second to recognise that the subtle unaccustomed change to his brother's voice was a note of uncertainty. He feels oddly reassured by this.
Yes, uncertainty, which is reassuring because it shows Verence three things: in some small way, he has power of Tomjon (which is a big thing for someone who has spent their life as a doormat), Tomjon actually wants his company, and not so perfect after all.
It could be more manipulation, I suppose. I like to think it's not, though- I don't think Tomjon is consciously manipulative, just instinctively, and I think this is how he truly feels. Maybe he chose subconsciously to let the uncertainty show; maybe not. He could have concealed it if he'd tried. Then again, maybe he's off his guard and trying to be himself around Verence.
"Of course," Verence answers, and Tomjon's smile is so dazzling that it's as if the sun has come out after a month of rain. Verence doesn't feel jealous this time, though, because he finds he's happy to be around Tomjon but he doesn't want to be him anymore.
For which I am very glad, because really- how kinky would that be? Seriously, though, the death of Verence's jealousy- Tomjon has a perfect smile on top of everything else, but by now he's realised that Tomjon might have problems and insecurites too, and also that he's happy to have Tomjon with him. If you want to spend time with someone, you can't be them. It doesn't work.
Being Verence isn't so bad, not really. He's got Magrat, and he's sure he'll figure out this whole king-thing with time. Maybe he won't do the best job in history, but both he and Lancre will survive it through.
He is a lot more optomistic in the later books, you've got to admit. He always tries, even when it seems like the fates are against him in a vaguely ambivalent manner, and he does end up doing a passable job. As a matter of fact, he does a much better job than one would suspect the majority of kings do.
Besides… he has a brother now. And if Tomjon has confidence in him, that's enough for him to find confidence in himself.
The obligatory sappy ending. Though I don't really have a problem with this one; Verence is the kind of character who finds it much easier to have faith in himself if someone else does first. Especially someone he idealises as much as he does Tomjon.
Anyway, the end. Why does this meme always make me feel like a bizarre mixture of airheaded wanker? Not to say I don't enjoy it, though, 'cause I do.
Jesus, why did I use so many italics? AAAAAAARGH. *dead* Hopefully it is not horribly obvious that I did this at one AM. *shifty look*
Also, happy birthday to Helgy!
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Date: 2004-08-18 09:01 am (UTC)But you are wonderful and I love you and oh God I never wrote your Jamie/Adrian *runs off to feel guilty*
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Date: 2004-08-18 10:22 am (UTC)HEY! My former Seamstress! (Or, well, Imp's, but you get the idea... And yes, I know this is very, very silly. Not gonna stop me from saying, though.)
Celestina - that was a cool commentary.
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Date: 2004-08-18 10:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-18 10:31 am (UTC)I'm saving up the postal for that TJ/Vlad stuff you guys have yet to deliver on.
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Date: 2004-08-18 10:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-18 05:50 pm (UTC)... hee, and the battle over Ade recommences. XD
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Date: 2004-08-18 07:55 pm (UTC)Speaking of Ade, though, you should really have him post something...
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Date: 2004-08-18 07:59 pm (UTC)I probably should, but I have to admit I haven't got a CLUE what's happening in the RP at the moment, aside from Vic becoming a student wizard.
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Date: 2004-08-18 08:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-18 05:49 pm (UTC)And you're welcome.
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Date: 2004-08-18 01:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-18 05:54 pm (UTC)