Chapter Text
Across the generations, many attempts have been made to introduce new holidays into the Ankh-Morpork public consciousness.
Apart from the ones that were clearly made as excuses to have a day off work and a quaff at the pub, notable examples include: Troll Appreciation Day, Assassin’s Day, Patrician’s Day, Ban of Troll Appreciation Day Appreciation Day, Having A Day Off Work And A Quaff At The Pub Day, and Jeremy Day*.
*Only ever held once, Jeremy Day celebrations were immediately disbanded once it became clear how very unclear the holiday was. Approximately half of the people celebrating were called Jeremy, or were friends of Jeremys, there to honour those with the sacred name, while the other half seemed to believe the day was about hunting people named Jeremy for sport. It is unclear why many thought this, and Jeremy Haters Anonymous refused comment.
None of these had ever stuck, although, as Sacharissa frequently pointed out, that was before the days of News.
William de Worde was not a romantic by nature, in either sense of the word.
Sprawling, verdant grasslands blanketed with daisies, enclosed by majestic pines, standing tall against the barrage of time, while a brook babbled softly in the background, did about as much for him revelation-wise as a half-eaten day-old curry from the Klatchian takeaway next door. He also wasn't one for dating.
Which was why Sacharissa’s insistence on the Times promoting the new fad of a holiday based entirely around mushy feelings and romantic gestures came much to his dismay.
“Care to remind me why this is in public interest, again?”
It was late in the morning, and the Times employees were diligently toiling away, or, mostly, doing their very best to appear busy, mainly when William was looking at them.
Sacharissa, who was sorting through nameless, unorganised files, rolled her eyes and gave her most refined “harrumph!”.
“People like chocolate and flowers. Not everybody is as joyless as you.”
William chose to disregard that last comment.
“People like stories about Überwaldeans sacrificing babies at full moons – apologies, Otto – that doesn't mean it's in their best interest.”
Otto, who had appeared from the cellar to get some nondescript supplies for his iconograph (William thought it best not to ask), nodded to show his lack of offense.
“Nothink taken, Villiam. Although I do vish people knew it vasn’t exclusive to full moons.”
He smiled that odd smile William never knew how to interpret. He also never knew how to interpret the slightly seasick feeling he got upon seeing it.
Sacharissa appeared not to notice William subtly grabbing a nearby desk for balance, instead putting down the wad of papers and turning to Otto in search of validation.
“Otto agrees, don't you? It'd be so sweet to do a special piece for the whole love festival. We could even have people write in to try and find their soulmate!”
Now it was Sacharissa who looked close to fainting, and it didn't escape William’s attention that Otto took a steadying breath and pointedly refused to meet her eyes.
“Yes, I zink I agree viz Sacharissa,” said Otto. “It vould be very nice. Ve could take comments from happy couples in zer city, go to zer festival, zat sort of thing.”
William wondered briefly about what a “happy” Ankh-Morpork couple would look like, but found his brain couldn't conjure an image.
“I, for one, am not convinced. Who even was this enigmatic Saint Valencine? He can't have done anything that grand if he's stuck with being patron saint of romance, wood-working and unpaid labourers.”
“She,” Sacharissa said, raising one dignified eyebrow, “Was an Ankh-born carpenter who carved a bow and arrow to defend her lover when the city was under siege. The arrow was three inches width so instantly plummeted to the floor, leaving her to have her throat ripped out by an invading army, but still. Terribly romantic.”
Otto, looking uncomfortable due to the mention of sharp wooden sticks, coughed awkwardly.
“I'm not sure I'm familiar vith zis sort of romance, but I still agree zat we should cover it in zer News. It vouldn’t have to be zer main story, but a little piece every day in zer running up to it vouldn't hurt.”
“Yes! We could cover a different couple every day. Today's edition isn't out yet, we can add an advert asking for volunteers, you know, cover the interesting ones. People go crazy over star-crossed lovers,” said Sacharissa, almost bouncing on the spot.
William frowned.
“By the very definition, star-crossed lovers can't be a couple, but– oh, alright. Fine. I suppose it would be nice to do a few more personal stories again.”
Before he'd even finished the last sentence, Sacharissa was rushing off to consult Goodmountain about fitting the advert into today's edition.
Otto stared after her, fondly.
“She's very passionate,” he remarked, turning to grin at William.
William glanced up at him, then back at Sacharissa. His throat closed up slightly.
“Mhm.”