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burntcopper, who wanted "Peter and Osumare Seaworth messing around and getting drunk."
"Come here," Peter says, laughing, and pulls Osumare in for a kiss. He tastes of the Calormene wine they've been sharing, and beneath that the Masongnongese summerwine they'd had before that.
"Glad to be back on dry land, your highness?" he grins against his king's mouth, flicking open the buttons on his shirt one by one.
Peter laughs again, and turns his head to take a mouthful of wine, sharing it with Osumare when he kisses Peter again. "You have no idea," he says fervently, and curls his fingers in Osumare's hair as Osumare pushes his shirt off his shoulders.
He runs his palmns over the new scars on Peter's chest, then lower, drawing a sharp gasp as Peter's fingers tighten against his scalp. "Osumare," he says breathlessly as Osumare follows the path of his hands with his mouth.
"All hail the conquering hero," he murmurs into Peter's skin as he pushes his king's hose and smallclothes down.
"I'll have to win more battles," is the last coherent thing Peter says, and then, "Osumare. Osumare."
Forcupiscent, who said, "I'm pondering Peter, say, having a fall off a horse or being in some other regard injured, but not sufficiently to justify the use of Lucy's cordial, and then having to convalesce. Not for as long as in England, obviously, because it's Narnia, but still long enough to drive everyone (especially him) crazy."
"This is why you shouldn't look for new warhorses," Sebi says archly, switching her tail.
"This is why you shouldn't recommend me horses that panic in basic training," Peter shoots back, leaning heavily on his crutches.
"Wel, you shouldn't be the one testing them," Sebi snipes.
"How else am I supposed to know if they're what I want?" Peter snaps.
"Huh," Sebi snorts, then turns and walks away, calling over her shoulder, "At least I wanted a vacation!"
"Oh, shut up," Peter says, and levers himself around carefully, stumping back into the castle with his broken ankle paining him every step of the way.
Inside, Edmund is saying earnestly to Susan, "I know he says no, but I think he should take the drugs."
Susan is barely holding her amusement in check. "I'm not going to make him take any painkillers if he doesn't want to. It's his choice."
"It'll be good for him," Edmund says brightly. "He won't be in pain, we won't be in pain --"
"You'll be spending some time in the black cells for treason," Peter interjects, and grins when Susan laughs and Edmund glares. "I'm not that bad, am I?"
"Well," Susan says diplomatically, "it's nice to have you here for once."
"Peter," Edmund says, "Seaworth set sail three days early, Tumnus and Lucy left for Lantern Waste, Oreius invented some mysterious emergency in the High Reaches and took off with half the army, and this morning you made Mataeula cry."
"Mataeula needs a thicker skin," Peter says.
"Mataeula is a rhinoceros," Edmund points out. "Don't you have any reports to read or paperwork to do? Something other than terrorize the castle staff?"
"Contrary to popular opinion, I actually do read your reports and do all my own paperwork," Peter says, "and that's all I've been doing for the past week. I don't even have a backlog any more."
"Aslan forbid," Susan says, looking like she's enjoying herself a little too much.
"If I'm such poor company, no one's keeping you here," Peter says to Edmund, leaning against a column to take some of the weight off his crutches. "Go and catch up with Oreius or Osumare, if that's what you want, or to Arn Abedin."
"Tempting as the notion is, someone has to stay here and make sure you don't do something completely stupid," Edmund says, tilting his chin up.
"Su's here," Peter points out, and she puts her head to one side, smiling wryly.
"Maybe you could try taking it easy for a bit, Peter," she says. "You're being very...busy."
"Maybe we could take him to the White Cliffs and throw him off," Edmund muses, then blinks. "Sorry. Did I say that out loud?"
"Yes," Peter says. "And threats aside, I haven't been to the White Cliffs lately. I'd like to see how the Corps is doing."
"Oh, thank Aslan," Edmund hisses.
"You're not supposed to be riding!" Susan exclaims.
"Don't tell him that!" Edmund snaps at her. "That's what we have baskets and griffins for! You can fly first class," he says to Peter. "I'll make the arrangements. You can leave today."
"Maybe I'll go with you," Susan says to Peter.
"You do that!" Edmund calls over his shoulder as he flees.
burntcopper, who wanted "Peter and Osumare Seaworth messing around and getting drunk.""Come here," Peter says, laughing, and pulls Osumare in for a kiss. He tastes of the Calormene wine they've been sharing, and beneath that the Masongnongese summerwine they'd had before that.
"Glad to be back on dry land, your highness?" he grins against his king's mouth, flicking open the buttons on his shirt one by one.
Peter laughs again, and turns his head to take a mouthful of wine, sharing it with Osumare when he kisses Peter again. "You have no idea," he says fervently, and curls his fingers in Osumare's hair as Osumare pushes his shirt off his shoulders.
He runs his palmns over the new scars on Peter's chest, then lower, drawing a sharp gasp as Peter's fingers tighten against his scalp. "Osumare," he says breathlessly as Osumare follows the path of his hands with his mouth.
"All hail the conquering hero," he murmurs into Peter's skin as he pushes his king's hose and smallclothes down.
"I'll have to win more battles," is the last coherent thing Peter says, and then, "Osumare. Osumare."
For
cupiscent, who said, "I'm pondering Peter, say, having a fall off a horse or being in some other regard injured, but not sufficiently to justify the use of Lucy's cordial, and then having to convalesce. Not for as long as in England, obviously, because it's Narnia, but still long enough to drive everyone (especially him) crazy.""This is why you shouldn't look for new warhorses," Sebi says archly, switching her tail.
"This is why you shouldn't recommend me horses that panic in basic training," Peter shoots back, leaning heavily on his crutches.
"Wel, you shouldn't be the one testing them," Sebi snipes.
"How else am I supposed to know if they're what I want?" Peter snaps.
"Huh," Sebi snorts, then turns and walks away, calling over her shoulder, "At least I wanted a vacation!"
"Oh, shut up," Peter says, and levers himself around carefully, stumping back into the castle with his broken ankle paining him every step of the way.
Inside, Edmund is saying earnestly to Susan, "I know he says no, but I think he should take the drugs."
Susan is barely holding her amusement in check. "I'm not going to make him take any painkillers if he doesn't want to. It's his choice."
"It'll be good for him," Edmund says brightly. "He won't be in pain, we won't be in pain --"
"You'll be spending some time in the black cells for treason," Peter interjects, and grins when Susan laughs and Edmund glares. "I'm not that bad, am I?"
"Well," Susan says diplomatically, "it's nice to have you here for once."
"Peter," Edmund says, "Seaworth set sail three days early, Tumnus and Lucy left for Lantern Waste, Oreius invented some mysterious emergency in the High Reaches and took off with half the army, and this morning you made Mataeula cry."
"Mataeula needs a thicker skin," Peter says.
"Mataeula is a rhinoceros," Edmund points out. "Don't you have any reports to read or paperwork to do? Something other than terrorize the castle staff?"
"Contrary to popular opinion, I actually do read your reports and do all my own paperwork," Peter says, "and that's all I've been doing for the past week. I don't even have a backlog any more."
"Aslan forbid," Susan says, looking like she's enjoying herself a little too much.
"If I'm such poor company, no one's keeping you here," Peter says to Edmund, leaning against a column to take some of the weight off his crutches. "Go and catch up with Oreius or Osumare, if that's what you want, or to Arn Abedin."
"Tempting as the notion is, someone has to stay here and make sure you don't do something completely stupid," Edmund says, tilting his chin up.
"Su's here," Peter points out, and she puts her head to one side, smiling wryly.
"Maybe you could try taking it easy for a bit, Peter," she says. "You're being very...busy."
"Maybe we could take him to the White Cliffs and throw him off," Edmund muses, then blinks. "Sorry. Did I say that out loud?"
"Yes," Peter says. "And threats aside, I haven't been to the White Cliffs lately. I'd like to see how the Corps is doing."
"Oh, thank Aslan," Edmund hisses.
"You're not supposed to be riding!" Susan exclaims.
"Don't tell him that!" Edmund snaps at her. "That's what we have baskets and griffins for! You can fly first class," he says to Peter. "I'll make the arrangements. You can leave today."
"Maybe I'll go with you," Susan says to Peter.
"You do that!" Edmund calls over his shoulder as he flees.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-15 11:01 pm (UTC)Hmm. I wonder if they'll give us Caspian/Drinian in votD so I can practice displacement activity. :glares at film crew: Hurry up and start filming, you sods!
Mataeula is a rhinocerous. :snerrrrrrrrrrk: And no, I will not stop giggling at Oreius taking half the army away.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-16 12:52 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-16 03:05 am (UTC)On of these days I should get into Peter's other lovers, some of whom have been mentioned and only a few of which have tried to kill him. *muses*
The snark! I had forgotten how fabulous it is to write. *beams*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-16 12:18 am (UTC)And Edmund of course.
And Peter.
My fave:
"and this morning you made Mataeula cry."
"Mataeula needs a thicker skin," Peter says.
"Mataeula is a rhinoceros," Edmund points out."
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-16 03:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-16 12:25 am (UTC)*ESPECIALLY THE SECOND ;-O*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-16 03:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-16 12:52 am (UTC):D:D:D
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-16 03:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-16 09:47 pm (UTC)"He won't be in pain, we won't be in pain --"
HI EDMUND, I've missed you so much.
"Sorry. Did I say that out loud?"
*laughs forever*
And Susan. She's so fond. And zen. And AWESOME.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-17 12:05 am (UTC)Well. Doom and gloom and incest and crack.
Susan is made of awesome.