"You forgot boozing it up and dangerous philosophies," Edmund pointed out, tipping back his head minutely. Ienzo was awfully clever with those fingers of his. The subtle investigations seemed to find the long-neglected nooks of his scalp where tension had built during long days bent over books. Very softly, Edmund voiced an appreciative whine. "While you seem to have a natural talent for rubdowns."
There'd seemed little point to him, politicking in a place like this. Maybe if he'd been more like Peter, able to influence the system for the better, and Edmund had done what he'd could, discreetly, for the youngest and most vulnerable of the fellows who came through, but somehow Parliament seemed less daunting than putting himself in the line of fire by openly defying the Bloods. He could make more difference out of this place than in it.
He shrugged at the questions, feeling a little self-conscious about his altruistic goals, which sounded suddenly naive when he put them into words in front of Ienzo. "I intend to go to Oxford and join clubs there, yes. Maybe it's terribly idealistic of me to think I can accomplish any change, but I'd like to try before giving up on the dream." Idly, Edmund wormed his fingers towards the hem of Ienzo's shirt and plucked it free from the trousers, used his new free rein to dive beneath and scritch his fingers along the expanse of belly he found there. "You don't ask for much, do you? Hmm..."
Perfectly clear, seemingly insignificant. Dark eyes grew distant with memory. "The sun had already set in the west," Edmund murmured, deciding. "I stood on the shore of the eastern sea and watched the ship draw into harbor. She was a proud thing, not large, but all good clean lines and trim sails. She rode low in the water from her trading routes, and I was proud to be of her blood."
He did not speak the name that danced on his tongue, but it was there in his heart, Narnia, as proud as the Lion's flag that flapped in the breeze of his memories.
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Date: 2018-07-23 05:00 am (UTC)There'd seemed little point to him, politicking in a place like this. Maybe if he'd been more like Peter, able to influence the system for the better, and Edmund had done what he'd could, discreetly, for the youngest and most vulnerable of the fellows who came through, but somehow Parliament seemed less daunting than putting himself in the line of fire by openly defying the Bloods. He could make more difference out of this place than in it.
He shrugged at the questions, feeling a little self-conscious about his altruistic goals, which sounded suddenly naive when he put them into words in front of Ienzo. "I intend to go to Oxford and join clubs there, yes. Maybe it's terribly idealistic of me to think I can accomplish any change, but I'd like to try before giving up on the dream." Idly, Edmund wormed his fingers towards the hem of Ienzo's shirt and plucked it free from the trousers, used his new free rein to dive beneath and scritch his fingers along the expanse of belly he found there. "You don't ask for much, do you? Hmm..."
Perfectly clear, seemingly insignificant. Dark eyes grew distant with memory. "The sun had already set in the west," Edmund murmured, deciding. "I stood on the shore of the eastern sea and watched the ship draw into harbor. She was a proud thing, not large, but all good clean lines and trim sails. She rode low in the water from her trading routes, and I was proud to be of her blood."
He did not speak the name that danced on his tongue, but it was there in his heart, Narnia, as proud as the Lion's flag that flapped in the breeze of his memories.