Narnia ficlet: "First Contact"
Jun. 26th, 2008 08:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bedlamsbardFiclet that really does fit into anything else. Midway through the Golden Age, probably nearer the end than the beginning but hovering around the halfway point; a typical day in the life of High King Peter and King Edmund. Belgarion is one of the western border countries mentioned in Once More for the Ages.
"You are an IDIOT!" Peter shouted; the words were clear through the thick fabric of his tent and could probably be heard on the other side of the camp. Anybody who had to pas his tent was hurrying by with their heads bowed. "What the hell were you thinking? Not only have I lost three good scouts, but now Belden knows we're here! Which is exactly what you were sent out to prevent!"
There was a pause while Urlion presumably tried to explain himself. Edmund would have felt sorry for him -- he'd been on the receiving end of Peter's anger often enough -- except Urlion really had screwed up something awful; the three dead scouts were the least of their problems.
"No," Peter said sharply. "No, I don't want to hear any more of your excuses. Get out of here while I can still salvage this war. Get out!"
Urlion emerged from Peter's tent with his tail trailing in the dirt, nose down and looking as ashamed as a leopard could. Edmund nodded to him, and Urlion bent in a brief, sullen bow before continuing on his way. Edmund stood up and pushed aside the tent flap so he could go in.
Peter was bent over the maps on his table, pushing around little counters with one hand. Without looking up, he snapped, "What do you want?"
"Dinner?" Edmund said, holding up the tray.
Peter glanced up. "Oh, it's you," he said ungraciously and came over to take the tray from Edmund, who held on to it stubbornly until Peter threw up his hands in frustration and went to clear some of the rolled up maps off the table so they could both sit down.
"I volunteered," Edmund said before Peter could say anything, "since no one else wanted to and otherwise they were going to draw lots."
Peter made an indeterminate sound around a mouthful of fresh-baked bread. The Narnian army always ate well, even on campaign. Especially on campaign, sometimes; no one was trying to reach the level of fanciness that the Cair Paravel chefs did, which sometimes ended oddly. Seldon bad, just odd.
"How bad is it?" Edmund asked finally.
Peter turned his wine-cup around in circles. "Bad," he said finally. "Very bad. We'd been able to keep knowledge of our presence here to a minimum, but Urlion blew that to hell when he atttacked Belden's scouts and then let them get away." He scowled violently. "I was expecting Belden to assume there was only a minimal borderguard here, not the whole damned army, but Urlion's making me tip my hand early. May Aslan save me from glory-seekers!"
"Praise be," Edmund agreed. "So Plan B, then?"
"No, that one's torn as well." Peter drank the last of his wine and stood up, moving towards the big map with the markers. Edmund followed.
"Here's what we'll do -- and we'll have to move the schedule up."
"How far up?"
"We don't want to give Belden any time to react to the news his scouts have probably already brought him." When he glanced up at Edmund, Peter's gaze was clear and steady and more than a little excited. "We attack at daybreak tomorrow. I'd prefer midnight tnoight, but even I can't get an army ready to march that fast. And I suppose dawn's better anyway; the Belgarines consider themselves unfit for battle until after morning worship. The previous day's blessing ends the hour before dawn. It may give us a hair of a psychological advantage."
"You're out of your mind," Edmund said lightly, studying the new patterns on the map. "I'll get the captains."
"Make sure the troops are in bed early," Peter reminded him. "They'll want the rest."
"You are an IDIOT!" Peter shouted; the words were clear through the thick fabric of his tent and could probably be heard on the other side of the camp. Anybody who had to pas his tent was hurrying by with their heads bowed. "What the hell were you thinking? Not only have I lost three good scouts, but now Belden knows we're here! Which is exactly what you were sent out to prevent!"
There was a pause while Urlion presumably tried to explain himself. Edmund would have felt sorry for him -- he'd been on the receiving end of Peter's anger often enough -- except Urlion really had screwed up something awful; the three dead scouts were the least of their problems.
"No," Peter said sharply. "No, I don't want to hear any more of your excuses. Get out of here while I can still salvage this war. Get out!"
Urlion emerged from Peter's tent with his tail trailing in the dirt, nose down and looking as ashamed as a leopard could. Edmund nodded to him, and Urlion bent in a brief, sullen bow before continuing on his way. Edmund stood up and pushed aside the tent flap so he could go in.
Peter was bent over the maps on his table, pushing around little counters with one hand. Without looking up, he snapped, "What do you want?"
"Dinner?" Edmund said, holding up the tray.
Peter glanced up. "Oh, it's you," he said ungraciously and came over to take the tray from Edmund, who held on to it stubbornly until Peter threw up his hands in frustration and went to clear some of the rolled up maps off the table so they could both sit down.
"I volunteered," Edmund said before Peter could say anything, "since no one else wanted to and otherwise they were going to draw lots."
Peter made an indeterminate sound around a mouthful of fresh-baked bread. The Narnian army always ate well, even on campaign. Especially on campaign, sometimes; no one was trying to reach the level of fanciness that the Cair Paravel chefs did, which sometimes ended oddly. Seldon bad, just odd.
"How bad is it?" Edmund asked finally.
Peter turned his wine-cup around in circles. "Bad," he said finally. "Very bad. We'd been able to keep knowledge of our presence here to a minimum, but Urlion blew that to hell when he atttacked Belden's scouts and then let them get away." He scowled violently. "I was expecting Belden to assume there was only a minimal borderguard here, not the whole damned army, but Urlion's making me tip my hand early. May Aslan save me from glory-seekers!"
"Praise be," Edmund agreed. "So Plan B, then?"
"No, that one's torn as well." Peter drank the last of his wine and stood up, moving towards the big map with the markers. Edmund followed.
"Here's what we'll do -- and we'll have to move the schedule up."
"How far up?"
"We don't want to give Belden any time to react to the news his scouts have probably already brought him." When he glanced up at Edmund, Peter's gaze was clear and steady and more than a little excited. "We attack at daybreak tomorrow. I'd prefer midnight tnoight, but even I can't get an army ready to march that fast. And I suppose dawn's better anyway; the Belgarines consider themselves unfit for battle until after morning worship. The previous day's blessing ends the hour before dawn. It may give us a hair of a psychological advantage."
"You're out of your mind," Edmund said lightly, studying the new patterns on the map. "I'll get the captains."
"Make sure the troops are in bed early," Peter reminded him. "They'll want the rest."
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(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-27 01:46 pm (UTC)I love your "full-throttle" Peter. I love the way Edmund steps up and volunteers to take care of him, because other people are afraid to go in there, and stubborns him into sitting down and eating together (otherwise, he couldn't be sure Peter *would* eat). I love that Peter has been pissed at Edmund in the past and it doesn't seem to make him afraid, just aware. I love that they're so in sync.
A short piece but it has a lot of punch to it. Your military tactics make sense, too, which isn't always the case in fics (or professional writing, ha!)...I'm sure you're aware. *rolls eyes*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-27 10:19 pm (UTC)I would totally be afraid to go in there. Edmund is braver than I am! And he really does know Peter that well.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-27 10:33 pm (UTC)I *wish* I could find a book on her Polish ally, Countess Paulina, a smart and deadly Mata Hari type. *flails*
There's a sequel where after the war, Vera went looking for her agents who disappeared, that were unknown to be KIA. She did a lot of the interrogating of captured Axis officers and got much useful information, and located most of her agents' whereabouts, so they at least got funerals. Amazing woman.
Damn it, now I want to read *that* again. I keep talking about books with people and then I want to re-read what we're talking about-I just finished "Shane" because a friend mentioned finding a SGA retelling of it! *laughs*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-27 10:46 pm (UTC)