I blame that meme thing
Title: Three kings and a wizard walk into a bar... (actual title pending)
Fandom: Narnia/Merlin crossover
Rating: G
Notes: This is... here. And it's not finished. Not sure where it's going, but I suspect Roland and Olivier are about to make a grand entrance.
'Whoever you are, your cover's not much good.' Peter slid into the booth opposite the fellow with the crown, and Edmund followed. He flashed an apologetic sort of smile at the crowned bloke's sidekick: looked a bit like Edmund himself in his younger days, although Edmund never had ears that big.
The fellow with the crown leaned back, slinging his arm around his sidekick's shoulders and giving Peter a frankly predatory sort of look. 'And who, pray tell, are you?'
Big Ears caught Edmund's eye, and shrugged, as if to say 'this sort of thing happens all the time'.
Peter extended a hand: 'Peter Pevensie. Flight Lieutenant.'
'Not bad cover.'
'It's my job.' Peter took to drumming his fingers on the tabletop in that aggravating way he had. Mr Shiny Crown snapped his fingers at the nearest barmaid, who ignored him.
'Merlin. Get me another drink.'
Big Ears - Merlin - rolled his eyes, and fished in Shiny Crown's pockets, producing a handful of coins. 'Trust you not to have any local currency on you.'
Shiny Crown stared at him blankly. 'What are you talking about, Merlin?' He flipped coins onto the table. 'That one's got my father's head on it, that one's... Byzantine? Still gold, anyhow. That one's French, and that one's Roman. All perfectly good currency.'
Edmund picked up the nearest coin, which turned out to be the one with the head of Shiny Crown Senior. Uterius Rex. Edmund's first thought was the Professor would kill for this, and his second was
'Arthur Pendragon, I presume?'
Arthur arched his eyebrow at Edmund. 'And you are?'
Peter clapped a hand down on Edmund's shoulder. 'My brother, Edmund Pevensie.'
'Also a Flight Lieutenant?' Arthur looked Edmund up and down, not bothering to keep his scepticism hidden.
'Gunnery,' Edmund said shortly. 'One more year, and then I'm done with National Service.' And with that, Arthur dismissed him, turning his attention back to Peter, who nodded towards Merlin.
'Who's he? Lancelot?'
Arthur and Merlin exchanged one swift look and burst out laughing in unison. Arthur tightened one arm around Merlin's shoulders, and made a flourish with the other.
'My manservant, Merlin.'
'Well, at least he's not wearing a crown.' Peter reached over the table and flicked a fingernail against Arthur's headgear, which went ping. A moment later, Edmund had Peter's hands pinned to the table, while Arthur had given Merlin a sharp dig in the ribs for attempting to do the same. Arthur glared at Peter and Peter glared at Arthur.
'Let go of me, Ed,' Peter snapped.
'Are you going to play nicely?'
'Yes, Susan.'
Edmund narrowed his eyes at Arthur. 'You too?'
Arthur gave him a slow grin in return, which he supposed was the best he was going to get. Edmund released Peter's hands, for which he was rewarded with Peter's best scowl. Deciding his Susan voice was working, Edmund continued: 'It never occured to you that it might be a bit odd, King Arthur, lurking around in a London pub some time in the 20th century?'
Arthur shrugged. 'Oh, is that when we are?'
'I told you that,' Merlin muttered.
'Anyway,' Arthur beamed. 'We're in fancy dress. Like David and Jonathan over there.'
Edmund turned his head, and, well, apparently this was that sort of pub. He wondered if Peter had known that when he chose it, and, on reflection, he probably had.
'The way this evening's going,' Peter cocked his head at Arthur, 'are you sure they're not David and Jonathan?'
Merlin shook his head. 'Not a word of Hebrew. I tried.'
Arthur stared at his manservant. 'You know Hebrew?'
'Oh, you never know when it might come in handy,' Merlin said, airily.
'Right. What happened to that drink you were getting me?' Arthur swept the coins off the table, picked Uterius Rex out of Edmund's fingers, and elbowed Merlin out of the booth, all in one swift move. Edmund grinned at Merlin, who was sporting a hangdog expression.
'This round's on me,' Edmund said, getting up. 'Although you'd better come along and help me carry them.' Edmund could carry five glasses at once - and still draw his dagger in an emergency - but he wanted to speak to this Merlin person for a moment.
Fandom: Narnia/Merlin crossover
Rating: G
Notes: This is... here. And it's not finished. Not sure where it's going, but I suspect Roland and Olivier are about to make a grand entrance.
'Whoever you are, your cover's not much good.' Peter slid into the booth opposite the fellow with the crown, and Edmund followed. He flashed an apologetic sort of smile at the crowned bloke's sidekick: looked a bit like Edmund himself in his younger days, although Edmund never had ears that big.
The fellow with the crown leaned back, slinging his arm around his sidekick's shoulders and giving Peter a frankly predatory sort of look. 'And who, pray tell, are you?'
Big Ears caught Edmund's eye, and shrugged, as if to say 'this sort of thing happens all the time'.
Peter extended a hand: 'Peter Pevensie. Flight Lieutenant.'
'Not bad cover.'
'It's my job.' Peter took to drumming his fingers on the tabletop in that aggravating way he had. Mr Shiny Crown snapped his fingers at the nearest barmaid, who ignored him.
'Merlin. Get me another drink.'
Big Ears - Merlin - rolled his eyes, and fished in Shiny Crown's pockets, producing a handful of coins. 'Trust you not to have any local currency on you.'
Shiny Crown stared at him blankly. 'What are you talking about, Merlin?' He flipped coins onto the table. 'That one's got my father's head on it, that one's... Byzantine? Still gold, anyhow. That one's French, and that one's Roman. All perfectly good currency.'
Edmund picked up the nearest coin, which turned out to be the one with the head of Shiny Crown Senior. Uterius Rex. Edmund's first thought was the Professor would kill for this, and his second was
'Arthur Pendragon, I presume?'
Arthur arched his eyebrow at Edmund. 'And you are?'
Peter clapped a hand down on Edmund's shoulder. 'My brother, Edmund Pevensie.'
'Also a Flight Lieutenant?' Arthur looked Edmund up and down, not bothering to keep his scepticism hidden.
'Gunnery,' Edmund said shortly. 'One more year, and then I'm done with National Service.' And with that, Arthur dismissed him, turning his attention back to Peter, who nodded towards Merlin.
'Who's he? Lancelot?'
Arthur and Merlin exchanged one swift look and burst out laughing in unison. Arthur tightened one arm around Merlin's shoulders, and made a flourish with the other.
'My manservant, Merlin.'
'Well, at least he's not wearing a crown.' Peter reached over the table and flicked a fingernail against Arthur's headgear, which went ping. A moment later, Edmund had Peter's hands pinned to the table, while Arthur had given Merlin a sharp dig in the ribs for attempting to do the same. Arthur glared at Peter and Peter glared at Arthur.
'Let go of me, Ed,' Peter snapped.
'Are you going to play nicely?'
'Yes, Susan.'
Edmund narrowed his eyes at Arthur. 'You too?'
Arthur gave him a slow grin in return, which he supposed was the best he was going to get. Edmund released Peter's hands, for which he was rewarded with Peter's best scowl. Deciding his Susan voice was working, Edmund continued: 'It never occured to you that it might be a bit odd, King Arthur, lurking around in a London pub some time in the 20th century?'
Arthur shrugged. 'Oh, is that when we are?'
'I told you that,' Merlin muttered.
'Anyway,' Arthur beamed. 'We're in fancy dress. Like David and Jonathan over there.'
Edmund turned his head, and, well, apparently this was that sort of pub. He wondered if Peter had known that when he chose it, and, on reflection, he probably had.
'The way this evening's going,' Peter cocked his head at Arthur, 'are you sure they're not David and Jonathan?'
Merlin shook his head. 'Not a word of Hebrew. I tried.'
Arthur stared at his manservant. 'You know Hebrew?'
'Oh, you never know when it might come in handy,' Merlin said, airily.
'Right. What happened to that drink you were getting me?' Arthur swept the coins off the table, picked Uterius Rex out of Edmund's fingers, and elbowed Merlin out of the booth, all in one swift move. Edmund grinned at Merlin, who was sporting a hangdog expression.
'This round's on me,' Edmund said, getting up. 'Although you'd better come along and help me carry them.' Edmund could carry five glasses at once - and still draw his dagger in an emergency - but he wanted to speak to this Merlin person for a moment.