various drabbles
Jul. 24th, 2009 10:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
be_themoonJust a few bits I've collected in the past few weeks.
+
"Half the people here are selling coffee and food," Cedric says. "It's taken very seriously here. Would you like some coffee?"
"Why not?" Holland says, and smiles as he changes course to a small table set up with a fire behind it.
"Senorita Núñez, how is business at the NIght Market tonight?" he says in flawless Spanish, and Holland raises her eyebrows in surprise.
"I didn't know your Spanish was that good," she says.
"It's improved." He smiles wryly and then turns his attention back to the girl. "Two blacks with chile and chocolate," he says, switching back to Spanish, and as the woman bustles about behind her table Cedric says to Holland, "The first thing to remember about coffee in the Night Market is that you never sweeten it directly. Also, black doesn't refer to plain coffee, it refers to a type of coffee. I prefer black, which is the thickest kind. Keeps you awake when nothing else will. Some people prefer it brown, and then there's the people who take white, who are shunned far and wide like the cowards they are."
"Really," Holland says, one eyebrow raised.
"Okay, that part was a lie," Cedric admits with a grin, and slides coins across the table before picking up the two cups of coffee and handing one to Holland. "I will warn you that if you drink that whole cup, you won't be able to sleep until about noon tomorrow."
"I'll take my chances, brother mine," she says, and takes a sip of the coffee as she links her arm in his.
+
"Every so often, Peter, I try to imagine what life would be like if you weren't such a reckless bastard," Edmund says through his teeth. "Okay, on three."
"What do you do then?" Peter says, and his shoulder snaps back into place. "Ow! I knew you weren't going to count."
"Generally I go have a drink so I don't have to remember that it's not true. Now can you get this arrow out of my chest?"
"Head's in too deep, and I'm almost sure they were barbed," Peter says. "You'll lose too much blood."
"Fuck," Edmund says, and reaches down, snapping off the arrow shaft. "I am never coming with you on a diplomatic mission ever again, I always end up getting shot at. Always." Closing his eyes, he massages his forehead with bloody fingers as Peter gets up and looks around them.
"This would have happened anyways. Stop moving! You're losing too much blood as is."
"I know, I just need someone to blame, all right?" Edmund says. Turning his head aside, he spits out blood and breathes deeply. "Right then. What now?"
+
"They aren't going to be gone long," Edmund says, but Susan doesn't deign to answer that, continuing to stalk through the halls. "And it's not about you arguing, either, you know they're just avoiding the Galman diplomats because of that thing that we don't talk about. Ever."
"Oh, dry up Edmund," Susan snaps finally, and slams the door to her study behind her. He sighs.
"Strategically retreating now," he notes, and turns around to head for his own study. If he's lucky he'll be able to coax her out for tea later.
If he's lucky, and the reports from Terebinthia haven't just exacerbated her bad mood.
+
"Half the people here are selling coffee and food," Cedric says. "It's taken very seriously here. Would you like some coffee?"
"Why not?" Holland says, and smiles as he changes course to a small table set up with a fire behind it.
"Senorita Núñez, how is business at the NIght Market tonight?" he says in flawless Spanish, and Holland raises her eyebrows in surprise.
"I didn't know your Spanish was that good," she says.
"It's improved." He smiles wryly and then turns his attention back to the girl. "Two blacks with chile and chocolate," he says, switching back to Spanish, and as the woman bustles about behind her table Cedric says to Holland, "The first thing to remember about coffee in the Night Market is that you never sweeten it directly. Also, black doesn't refer to plain coffee, it refers to a type of coffee. I prefer black, which is the thickest kind. Keeps you awake when nothing else will. Some people prefer it brown, and then there's the people who take white, who are shunned far and wide like the cowards they are."
"Really," Holland says, one eyebrow raised.
"Okay, that part was a lie," Cedric admits with a grin, and slides coins across the table before picking up the two cups of coffee and handing one to Holland. "I will warn you that if you drink that whole cup, you won't be able to sleep until about noon tomorrow."
"I'll take my chances, brother mine," she says, and takes a sip of the coffee as she links her arm in his.
+
"Every so often, Peter, I try to imagine what life would be like if you weren't such a reckless bastard," Edmund says through his teeth. "Okay, on three."
"What do you do then?" Peter says, and his shoulder snaps back into place. "Ow! I knew you weren't going to count."
"Generally I go have a drink so I don't have to remember that it's not true. Now can you get this arrow out of my chest?"
"Head's in too deep, and I'm almost sure they were barbed," Peter says. "You'll lose too much blood."
"Fuck," Edmund says, and reaches down, snapping off the arrow shaft. "I am never coming with you on a diplomatic mission ever again, I always end up getting shot at. Always." Closing his eyes, he massages his forehead with bloody fingers as Peter gets up and looks around them.
"This would have happened anyways. Stop moving! You're losing too much blood as is."
"I know, I just need someone to blame, all right?" Edmund says. Turning his head aside, he spits out blood and breathes deeply. "Right then. What now?"
+
"They aren't going to be gone long," Edmund says, but Susan doesn't deign to answer that, continuing to stalk through the halls. "And it's not about you arguing, either, you know they're just avoiding the Galman diplomats because of that thing that we don't talk about. Ever."
"Oh, dry up Edmund," Susan snaps finally, and slams the door to her study behind her. He sighs.
"Strategically retreating now," he notes, and turns around to head for his own study. If he's lucky he'll be able to coax her out for tea later.
If he's lucky, and the reports from Terebinthia haven't just exacerbated her bad mood.
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no subject
Date: 2009-07-24 05:29 pm (UTC)Narnia: Oh PETER. Reckless bastard, indeed. And Edmund just kind of goes along even though he ends up being shot at.
Haha, I love Ed's strategic retreat line in the Susan&Edmund one. Oh, Edmund, so snarky.
Awesome drabbles, Betsy! ♥
no subject
Date: 2009-07-25 08:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-24 06:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-25 08:48 pm (UTC)