Title : Not so tame as they would think you
Author : Gunbunny
Fandom : Narnia
Pairing : Edmund/that'd be spoiling it
Rating : No sex and no violence. :sigh:
Summary : Edmund's on guard and Caspian can't sleep.
Disclaimer : Not mine. :waves hi to CS Lewis:
Feedback : I accept burnt offerings and alcohol.
Archive : http://burntcopper.com/fic , anywhere else feel free.
Edmund's walking the edges of the encampment, the evening after the battle. Everyone's asleep, aside from the guards. They don't expect any reprisals, not for a while at least. Aslan's still with them, which will quiet the Narnians, and the Telmarine army saw the river rise up against them. It'll probably take a lot of dredging of the river downstream to find Lord Sopespian's body. They're too cowed to try for a push for power at the moment, and none of the lords have enough support to muster a sufficient force straight away. Even Glozelle, who could probably get most of the army behind him. And he pledged fealty to Caspian straight after he battle. Peter's marked him as the type of general you'd give your eye-teeth for - smart and loyal to a fault, as long as you're not endangering your own side. With the added undertone that Caspian doesn't deserve him, but Edmund's trying not to think about that rivalry right now.
Peter's asleep, too. He got into the wine after the battle, while they were telling tales, and that's normal for him after a decisive win. He won't wake up while it's quiet. Edmund's still restless. Too much to think about, and he doesn't throw himself into battle quite as whole-heartedly as Peter. Susan will probably be thinking in the morning, and Lucy would probably be dancing all night if her age hadn't gotten the better of her.
A voice from the trees chuckles. "You always did think too much."
Edmund's got his sword out in a second, whipping his head towards the voice. Familiar, and there's no-one in Narnia who knows him aside from his siblings and Aslan. "Show yourself," he commands.
Another chuckle. "So commanding, my king." The faint moonlight through the trees catches a bare shoulder, and curly hair - human, he thinks, by the way the silhouette moves. "As you ever were."
The breeze changes, bringing with it the scent of wine, crushed grapes, turned earth and sweat. He knows that scent. It's nagging at him, on the tip of his tongue, almost there when the owner of the voice gets fully into view. Edmund draws breath sharply. A youth, slim and muscled, curly dark hair crowned in vine leaves, draped in an animal skin, vines trailed round him, some with grapes still attached. Beautiful, age anywhere between 16 and 25. It's always hard to tell. Mouth stained with wine turned up in a mischievous, knowing grin that Edmund knows all too well.
He only lowers his sword a fraction. "Bacchus?"
"So you do remember me." Bacchus walks forward, stepping right past the sword, hand coming up to brush Edmund's cheek. "You've changed. I'd heard you had. You look like when I first met you. A little older, a little wiser than then." He grins. "Still lovely."
"It's been a thousand years," Edmund says warily. No matter how genial Bacchus may appear, you should never, ever forget that he's dangerous.
"But not so long for you, hmm?" Bacchus says, trailing the back of his fingers down Edmund's cheek.
"What are you doing here?"
"Helping renew Narnia. It seems it's time. I think these Telmarines and Narnians need reminding what wildness is."
"I don't think they're quite ready for how wild you can get." Edmund says as Bacchus starts playing with bits of his hair.
"Then they will learn." Bacchus' grin has that edge of savagery that never bodes well.
"Why now? It's been years," Edmund asks. "Surely you'd forgotten me."
"Your people were hard to forget. And there's been none so stubborn in all that time." Bacchus draws back, pulling his pipes from a pouch, waggling them temptingly. "Can I convince you to dance with me?"
Edmund shakes his head. "There's too much to do. We need to establish the new rule, crown Caspian publicly, make sure -"
Bacchus grins, stopping him with a finger against Edmund's lips. "As ever. My Edmund. Always ever thus. Always too busy to come run with me."
"Too tied to everything else to leave it to someone else." Edmund says, shrugging.
"But not so tame as they would think you." Bacchus replies.
----
Caspian gets up, bleary-eyed. He's still not sleeping too well. Even with the wine they had. The lack of a bed doesn't help, and the aftermath of the day's battle has left him sore and aching, the earth that they lie on giving his muscles no respite. He doesn't know how the others do it, relaxed and cheerful, though they warned him that there's going to be a lot to start thinking about in the morning, so best get some sleep now. Power sharing. New laws. The Telmarine lords still left over. Glozelle. Even though Glozelle swore fealty to him after Beruna. The old kings and queens do not trust anyone or any treaty to hold, it seems.
Looking around, it's apparent that Edmund is not here. It's probable he's on guard, letting the others sleep. They're very ... cautious. And paranoid. They look like children and think like the oldest battle-hardened soldiers.
From off to the side, there's sound. Not talking. Rustling. Something's moving, and he's pretty sure guarding tends to involve not moving. An ambush, perhaps? One of the guards being tackled quietly? And that's definitely the sound of a choked-off cry. He grabs his sword, going to see what help he can give. Being overpowered by assassins after a decisive battle isn't unheard of in Telmarine history, and if nothing else, it would look bad to the Narnians if their legendary kings and queens were assassinated in his presence.
Closer, and he catches sight of them. Someone being pressed into a tree by another. However, the danger level is... uncertain, since he cannot see blades or teeth from this angle. At this very moment, lives are not at stake, not yet. The defender curses, and the muffled curse's accent is clearly Narnian, that foreign sound he's been getting used to for the past few weeks. If they're human, and it seems likely, is it Edmund? He's the only one missing. There's a few more whispered words, the oppressor trying to either reassure or threaten, it's hard to tell. Then the light through the trees and the firelight shadows shift to provide a clearer picture. Just as the oppressor's head dips and - ah. It becomes rather obvious that this is not an attack in the, ah, conventional sense. And an interruption would not be welcome by either party, especially considering the way the defender's hands have come up to clutch at the other. The profile of the one pressed against the tree is definitely Edmund, but who is the other? From here it looks like he's only wearing animal skins. The motion of an arm and a rather loud choked-off moan is definitely his cue to retreat and leave them to it. Right now. He may not be battle-hardened or trained in the ways of politics, but he has always known that interruptions are unwelcome when there is no danger and you are an outsider, and that soldiers, as Edmund definitely is, may react even more violently to this.
He walks back to the fire the other humans are asleep around, and lies down. The question that keeps him from sleep is the uncertainty of what he walked in on. Soldiers and politics make for strange bedfellows, and those in the time of war care not for social mores. And as he is so constantly reminded, you cannot, dare not lull yourself into thinking that the old kings and queens will move and think in the same way as a Telmarine in the civilised society he knows. Edmund is truly not the child he appears if he would dally so, where anyone could see. As for the exchange he retreated from so quickly, that he cannot make out the source of, is that the shift in light revealed that the other one had bare human feet. The Telmarines are not part of this encampment, kept distant in their own, away from the unnatural talking beasts. And what seemed yet more strange is that he had a Narnian accent. It was not the speech of Archenland, which is closer to Narnian than Telmarine. And the only Narnian humans in this day and age are the old kings and queens.
On the other side of the fire, Peter turns over. "What's the problem?" He asks. Caspian was sure he was asleep when he rose, but cannot say that he was taking notice when he returned, too consumed by doubts to be aware of such things.
"I apologise for waking you." Caspian says, almost glad for the distraction.
"I sleep lightly. All of us do during battle conditions. What was it?"
"I, ah, came across a -" Caspian flushes. "A meeting."
"Mmm." Peter doesn't sound surprised. "Not uncommon. So what was the problem?"
"It was Edmund and another youth." Caspian says, and pauses, trying to convey his discomfort in a way that Peter will not shrug off without thinking. They expect him to think as they do, rarely offering explanation, forgetting that he is Telmarine, not Narnian. "Only I was sure that there were no other Narnian humans. Even if he was dressed in a wild fashion."
"Wild?" Peter asks. The Narnians speak of wild as though it were the natural state, and tame as though it were an insult. Another explanation missed.
"Animal skins." Caspian clarifies.
Peter chuckles. "Oh, Bacchus is back, is he? He never could resist Edmund." With that he lies back down, leaving Caspian with even more to confuse his sleep.
END
Author : Gunbunny
Fandom : Narnia
Pairing : Edmund/that'd be spoiling it
Rating : No sex and no violence. :sigh:
Summary : Edmund's on guard and Caspian can't sleep.
Disclaimer : Not mine. :waves hi to CS Lewis:
Feedback : I accept burnt offerings and alcohol.
Archive : http://burntcopper.com/fic , anywhere else feel free.
Edmund's walking the edges of the encampment, the evening after the battle. Everyone's asleep, aside from the guards. They don't expect any reprisals, not for a while at least. Aslan's still with them, which will quiet the Narnians, and the Telmarine army saw the river rise up against them. It'll probably take a lot of dredging of the river downstream to find Lord Sopespian's body. They're too cowed to try for a push for power at the moment, and none of the lords have enough support to muster a sufficient force straight away. Even Glozelle, who could probably get most of the army behind him. And he pledged fealty to Caspian straight after he battle. Peter's marked him as the type of general you'd give your eye-teeth for - smart and loyal to a fault, as long as you're not endangering your own side. With the added undertone that Caspian doesn't deserve him, but Edmund's trying not to think about that rivalry right now.
Peter's asleep, too. He got into the wine after the battle, while they were telling tales, and that's normal for him after a decisive win. He won't wake up while it's quiet. Edmund's still restless. Too much to think about, and he doesn't throw himself into battle quite as whole-heartedly as Peter. Susan will probably be thinking in the morning, and Lucy would probably be dancing all night if her age hadn't gotten the better of her.
A voice from the trees chuckles. "You always did think too much."
Edmund's got his sword out in a second, whipping his head towards the voice. Familiar, and there's no-one in Narnia who knows him aside from his siblings and Aslan. "Show yourself," he commands.
Another chuckle. "So commanding, my king." The faint moonlight through the trees catches a bare shoulder, and curly hair - human, he thinks, by the way the silhouette moves. "As you ever were."
The breeze changes, bringing with it the scent of wine, crushed grapes, turned earth and sweat. He knows that scent. It's nagging at him, on the tip of his tongue, almost there when the owner of the voice gets fully into view. Edmund draws breath sharply. A youth, slim and muscled, curly dark hair crowned in vine leaves, draped in an animal skin, vines trailed round him, some with grapes still attached. Beautiful, age anywhere between 16 and 25. It's always hard to tell. Mouth stained with wine turned up in a mischievous, knowing grin that Edmund knows all too well.
He only lowers his sword a fraction. "Bacchus?"
"So you do remember me." Bacchus walks forward, stepping right past the sword, hand coming up to brush Edmund's cheek. "You've changed. I'd heard you had. You look like when I first met you. A little older, a little wiser than then." He grins. "Still lovely."
"It's been a thousand years," Edmund says warily. No matter how genial Bacchus may appear, you should never, ever forget that he's dangerous.
"But not so long for you, hmm?" Bacchus says, trailing the back of his fingers down Edmund's cheek.
"What are you doing here?"
"Helping renew Narnia. It seems it's time. I think these Telmarines and Narnians need reminding what wildness is."
"I don't think they're quite ready for how wild you can get." Edmund says as Bacchus starts playing with bits of his hair.
"Then they will learn." Bacchus' grin has that edge of savagery that never bodes well.
"Why now? It's been years," Edmund asks. "Surely you'd forgotten me."
"Your people were hard to forget. And there's been none so stubborn in all that time." Bacchus draws back, pulling his pipes from a pouch, waggling them temptingly. "Can I convince you to dance with me?"
Edmund shakes his head. "There's too much to do. We need to establish the new rule, crown Caspian publicly, make sure -"
Bacchus grins, stopping him with a finger against Edmund's lips. "As ever. My Edmund. Always ever thus. Always too busy to come run with me."
"Too tied to everything else to leave it to someone else." Edmund says, shrugging.
"But not so tame as they would think you." Bacchus replies.
----
Caspian gets up, bleary-eyed. He's still not sleeping too well. Even with the wine they had. The lack of a bed doesn't help, and the aftermath of the day's battle has left him sore and aching, the earth that they lie on giving his muscles no respite. He doesn't know how the others do it, relaxed and cheerful, though they warned him that there's going to be a lot to start thinking about in the morning, so best get some sleep now. Power sharing. New laws. The Telmarine lords still left over. Glozelle. Even though Glozelle swore fealty to him after Beruna. The old kings and queens do not trust anyone or any treaty to hold, it seems.
Looking around, it's apparent that Edmund is not here. It's probable he's on guard, letting the others sleep. They're very ... cautious. And paranoid. They look like children and think like the oldest battle-hardened soldiers.
From off to the side, there's sound. Not talking. Rustling. Something's moving, and he's pretty sure guarding tends to involve not moving. An ambush, perhaps? One of the guards being tackled quietly? And that's definitely the sound of a choked-off cry. He grabs his sword, going to see what help he can give. Being overpowered by assassins after a decisive battle isn't unheard of in Telmarine history, and if nothing else, it would look bad to the Narnians if their legendary kings and queens were assassinated in his presence.
Closer, and he catches sight of them. Someone being pressed into a tree by another. However, the danger level is... uncertain, since he cannot see blades or teeth from this angle. At this very moment, lives are not at stake, not yet. The defender curses, and the muffled curse's accent is clearly Narnian, that foreign sound he's been getting used to for the past few weeks. If they're human, and it seems likely, is it Edmund? He's the only one missing. There's a few more whispered words, the oppressor trying to either reassure or threaten, it's hard to tell. Then the light through the trees and the firelight shadows shift to provide a clearer picture. Just as the oppressor's head dips and - ah. It becomes rather obvious that this is not an attack in the, ah, conventional sense. And an interruption would not be welcome by either party, especially considering the way the defender's hands have come up to clutch at the other. The profile of the one pressed against the tree is definitely Edmund, but who is the other? From here it looks like he's only wearing animal skins. The motion of an arm and a rather loud choked-off moan is definitely his cue to retreat and leave them to it. Right now. He may not be battle-hardened or trained in the ways of politics, but he has always known that interruptions are unwelcome when there is no danger and you are an outsider, and that soldiers, as Edmund definitely is, may react even more violently to this.
He walks back to the fire the other humans are asleep around, and lies down. The question that keeps him from sleep is the uncertainty of what he walked in on. Soldiers and politics make for strange bedfellows, and those in the time of war care not for social mores. And as he is so constantly reminded, you cannot, dare not lull yourself into thinking that the old kings and queens will move and think in the same way as a Telmarine in the civilised society he knows. Edmund is truly not the child he appears if he would dally so, where anyone could see. As for the exchange he retreated from so quickly, that he cannot make out the source of, is that the shift in light revealed that the other one had bare human feet. The Telmarines are not part of this encampment, kept distant in their own, away from the unnatural talking beasts. And what seemed yet more strange is that he had a Narnian accent. It was not the speech of Archenland, which is closer to Narnian than Telmarine. And the only Narnian humans in this day and age are the old kings and queens.
On the other side of the fire, Peter turns over. "What's the problem?" He asks. Caspian was sure he was asleep when he rose, but cannot say that he was taking notice when he returned, too consumed by doubts to be aware of such things.
"I apologise for waking you." Caspian says, almost glad for the distraction.
"I sleep lightly. All of us do during battle conditions. What was it?"
"I, ah, came across a -" Caspian flushes. "A meeting."
"Mmm." Peter doesn't sound surprised. "Not uncommon. So what was the problem?"
"It was Edmund and another youth." Caspian says, and pauses, trying to convey his discomfort in a way that Peter will not shrug off without thinking. They expect him to think as they do, rarely offering explanation, forgetting that he is Telmarine, not Narnian. "Only I was sure that there were no other Narnian humans. Even if he was dressed in a wild fashion."
"Wild?" Peter asks. The Narnians speak of wild as though it were the natural state, and tame as though it were an insult. Another explanation missed.
"Animal skins." Caspian clarifies.
Peter chuckles. "Oh, Bacchus is back, is he? He never could resist Edmund." With that he lies back down, leaving Caspian with even more to confuse his sleep.
END
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Date: 2008-09-05 12:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-05 01:01 pm (UTC):pokes you: did you get my emails? Haven't had a reply on the fic I sent you for beta.
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Date: 2008-09-05 01:09 pm (UTC)Gosh, I'm so sorry.
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Date: 2008-09-05 01:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-05 01:18 pm (UTC)*beats up hotmail account*
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Date: 2008-09-05 12:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-05 12:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-05 01:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-05 12:58 pm (UTC)Peter thinks Caspian is an under-trained naive little tosser who's also a bloody Telmarine. Who should shut up and stand aside so the grown-ups can get on with the business of running a country and killing people. Not to mention he can't believe Caspian's in his twenties and still knows bugger all when he was out fighting battles at 15/16. Glozelle is a really, really good general and Peter thinks he's utterly wasted on the Telmarines.
:pats Caspian on the head: As
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Date: 2008-09-05 03:57 am (UTC)You actually consider the power balance between the Pevensies, Caspian, the Telmarine nobles and the Narnians. BONUS POINTS AND COOKIES.
:D
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Date: 2008-09-05 12:53 pm (UTC)Ooo, cookies. :snaffles all the chocolate chip ones:
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Date: 2008-09-05 01:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-05 01:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-05 01:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-05 07:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-05 12:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-05 03:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-05 06:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-12 03:20 am (UTC)Power balance; appreciation of Glozelle (whom MIRAZ certainly didn't deserve!); little bit of voyeurism there; outdoor sex; knowing, powerful Bacchus pursuing outwardly practical Edmund, who isn't as tame as they think...I love it all.
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Date: 2008-09-12 12:08 pm (UTC)Bacchus : only puts up with indoors sex when Edmund is in the middle of paperwork. Peter feels so miffed about Glozelle. He should totally have been born Narnian in the Golden Age. ah, the voyeurism : how to freak Caspian out. :snigger:
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Date: 2008-09-12 09:30 pm (UTC)"Oh, Bacchus is back, is he? He never could resist Edmund." of course he can't!!! XD
"But not so tame as they would think you."
That's exactly how I see Edmund! :)
Awesome!
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Date: 2008-09-13 10:40 am (UTC)Glad to be of service.
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Date: 2008-09-13 01:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-13 10:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-14 10:11 am (UTC)"Too tied to everything else to leave it to someone else." Edmund says, shrugging.
"But not so tame as they would think you." Bacchus replies.
OH FER DAMN SURE!
*is an Edmund fangirl to the max*
Nice work, basically :)
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Date: 2008-09-15 12:39 pm (UTC)Edmund fangirls : possibly an eensie bit warped. :g:
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Date: 2008-09-15 09:36 pm (UTC)It's like how people resemble their pets. Characters attract fandoms with similar characteristics :)
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Date: 2008-09-28 06:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-28 09:08 pm (UTC)And yes, peter, keep making comments that you feel absolutely no need to explain to Caspian before going straight back to sleep...
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Date: 2008-11-26 03:58 pm (UTC)SOMEONE ELSE WROTE BACCHUS/EDMUND. AND IT'S ENDLESSLY GLEE-INDUCING.
(just one thing, though - it ought to be surely you've forgotten me, yes?)
ANYWAY. I JUST LOVE THE WAY PETER REACTED. It's. Just. Ugh, the fundamental difference between Narnian thinking and ... everyone else is underscored, there.
Also, Caspian's shock!!omg reaction was endlessly awkward. And so ridiculously cute. ♥! *laughs at him* lovingly, of course.
*DANCES!!*