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rthstewart) wrote2010-02-22 10:40 am
AND THEN THE WORLD BLEW UP
Me:
I am hoping Kate and Andi do involving the Edmund/Ramses/Laurie King triple x over
And ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif){kind=small}
andi_horton
Flattered, Madam, though we do profess ourselves by your faith in us, my esteemed colleague and I both confess that our desire to bear witness to the existence of such a literary epic is greatly -- perhaps even mercifully -- tempered by our collective doubt in our ability to do it anything even resembling justice.
With sincere regrets we remain,
your humble servants
And intrikate88 : You have read my brain; namely that Russell and Holmes met up with Ramses and yes, later in life, they are mentoring Edmund. AND THEN THE WORLD BLEW UP.
See, if I knew Ramses better, I would attempt this myself, just, a few lines you know. A paragraph. The one I cannot get out of my head is Ramses and Edmund taunting Holmes at the dinner party in O Jerusalem. Something along the lines of the following (understanding that i am completely winging it insofar as Ramses is concerned).
***
It was, as it always was, Emerson's doing. He'd heard some Victorian poker-faced chap in Arab dress was skulking about Jerusalem looking for a women's dinner gown. Emerson had finessed the acquisition of the gown and based upon the measurements provided, deduced that the young lady in question was no matron. Emerson had seen to the gown's delivery to a hostel owned by one of "his" chaps, a safehouse for Allbenby's boys, to to be sure, but not the sort of spot appropriate for any respectable young woman. Which meant, logically, the women was not respectable. Now, Emerson would not leave off until he'd seen the woman, in the gown, which probably looked utterly staid until it was on and then appear exotic and vaguely sensual in an understated, Oriental sort of way.
As Edmund saw it, there was a scheme afoot and they had best steer clear lest something really dire happen -- and disasters tended to follow Emerson like biblical plagues. With Emerson's imagination afire, Edmund had finally determined that it best to obtain the proper dinner invitation and then they might both go. At least he could hold Emerson's leash or bring along the dustpan to sweep up the inevitable carnage. Finagling social engagements being Edmund's department, he had run by the hostess that afternoon, flattered her, and secured the invitations Emerson coveted.
The cocktails were superb and one look at the parties involved told him all he needed to know for a bit of needling fun.
"I say, old man! You've been introduced to Miss Russell then? Smashing in that gown, isn't she? Cuts quite the figure in it." Edmund thought of slapping the impostor on the back but the hard look he was getting made him think he might break a hand in the process.
Emerson raised a glass in salute to his handiwork. "Best damn looking woman in Jerusalem, wouldn't you say, Pevensie?"
“Single too,” Pevensie replied, with another appreciative look that lingered. “A keen mind as well.” He wondered if the faculties already displayed so cuttingly in Miss Russell might extend to maths.
“And interested in archeology; quite the passion for languages, native tongues and all that." Emerson waggled his own and Allenby's masquerading guest looked ready to cut it from his mouth. Knowing full well the murderous effect he was causing, Emerson blithely went on, "Wouldn't mind showing Miss Russell around a few dusty caves myself. See what she's made of in the dark!"
"Brilliant idea, Emerson. I'll line up the caravan, see to the logistics."
"Go find your own, Pevensie. You can't come along for all that you have that way with camels. I spotted her first."
Allenby's guest -- by Jove he was grim sort and no more a military man than he or Emerson was -- began coughing on his drink.
"I say old man, you all right there? Is the heat fatiguing you? General Allenby, sir, your dinner guest seems to be flushing alarmingly! Waiter! A seltzer for this old chap, what!"
And then Mary shows up, links arms with Pevensie and Emerson and waltzes into dinner with a swish of her hip and a, "I believe that is the dinner bell, boys!"
Yes, modified again, because I can't stop tinkering. Which I will do. Stop. That is.
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Write write write!!
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Ohmygod. I nearly just spit stew all over my work computer. I mean, that scene was already beyond priceless anyway, but to have all of them deliberately exacerbating it... *LOVES* ALSO THE CAMEL COMMENT LOL LOL LOL.
Then after they go into dinner:
If someone was going to spy on Allenby's dinner, Ramses Emerson thought, then it was relevant enough to his own purposes for him to take an interest. Not that he was there on official business, but the older man and the young Miss Russell were... curious. Especially as Miss Russell seemed to have become an ever increasingly sensitive spot with the not-a-military-gentleman. "Interested in hands-on archaeology, Miss Russell? See, I'm not the old-fashioned type that thinks women can't enjoy getting out of their fancy dresses and poking about the dark."
The masquerading guest, he thought, really was impressive in the way he was steadily draining a full glass of red wine without pause. He wasn't even blinking, in fact.
"A refreshing attitude, Mr. Emerson," Miss Russell answered, smiling sparklingly at him. But he noticed her short, filed-but-still-rough nails, and the remnants of skin dye lingering in the folds of the knuckle on her thumb, and a line of broken hair along her hairline that could easily show where a wrapping had rubbed for two long. Yes, these were curious guests indeed.
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"Apart from the overpowering eau de cologne on Miss Russell, no." Really, the scent has been the only off putting thing about her.
"Donkey," Pevense said with the authority of one whose nose knows such things. "Horse, goat, and camel."
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Something had been concerning him, even more than the odd scents, the strange tensions, and the way Miss Russell seemed to be directing the conversation to a particular end and the remnants of her native disguise Emerson had deduced. It was not their business to be sure, though knowing that what her business was would help him keep Emerson out of it.
This was becoming more difficult as Emerson was becoming more openly admiring, if for no other reason than because it was so infuriating the Lieutenant Colonel. General Allenby was, dare he say it, near deferential to the man. Again, Edmund had the sense of some piece of elemental piece of data missing from the puzzle.
He nudged Emerson who was fiddling with a lamp and experimenting with how far he could unscrew the base before it collapsed. "You really intend to sweep Miss Russell off on an expedition with naught but a native guide and two camels?"
"She is game. And languages, Pevensie! I tripped her up right before dinner broke up. She slipped into Arabic when I asked her if she had yet toured the Temple Mount. She knows Hebrew, Greek and Latin as well. I wonder if she’s studied Sumerian?"
"Have you considered what your mother might say to such an excursion?"
"Pot meet kettle, mum?"
The look crossing Emerson's face warned Edmund that Nefret was not to be mentioned even as potential deterrent to the mad scheme. He wondered what colossal misunderstanding it was this time.
"I think Lieutenant Colonel William Gillette is the greatest obstacle to my plan and that may be overcome."
"A knife in the back would, yes," Edmund agreed. "Gillette is it?" he asked, taking another sip of the excellent... Oh By The Lion…
Reaching over, he grabbed Emerson by the arm. "You will this moment cease any overtures to Miss Russell."
Emerson's eyes narrowed dangerously. "That's high handed of you, Pevensie!"
Edmund gave him a shake and passed an urgent hand signal. Emerson’s anger was replaced with a disturbing curiosity. "Oh? Care to share your theory?"
Setting his glass down, Edmund rose from his seat. He wanted a clear head for this memorable encounter. "It is a capital mistake to theorize before you have all the evidence!"
"Care to explain why you are quoting Conan Doyle?"
"Elementary my dear Emerson."
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Please do not say things like that. *gets out a mallet and bashes the plotbunnies back into their cages*
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I have a huge love for minor gods in Narnia (coughBacchuscough), and, well, the lioness/lioness-headed goddess who protects the pharaoh? I see lots of possibilities. Maybe Lucy and Edmund meet her in Calormen. *scurries over to commentfic post*
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Edmund took some small delight at the horror briefly flickering over the other man's face, normally impassive as the monuments after which he was named. "What do you think they're doing here?"
Emerson's eyebrows quirked. "The game's afoot?"
"Some game, anyway."
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"the game's afoot?"
"some game, anyway."
love it! my girls are looking at me like i've gone crazy because of my laughing, but oh, priceless! and it all fits in so well with edmund's fondness for detective novels, as mentioned in "dawn treader."
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You're right! I had forgotten about that, it's very fitting. :P
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Edmund is going to be informing Ramses' next of kin that he was murdered with a fish fork by Sherlock Holmes at a dinner party in Jerusalem.
I revised the first bit, for the last time. Really.
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I am so so so excited to see Mary Russell + Holmes. Eeee!
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Lovely, lovely start. Though I confess I had to give my brain a good whack at the beginning to make it understand "Emerson" as Ramses rather than, well, Emerson. Of course Edmund's going to think of him that way, just took a second.
... Nefret meeting Miss Russell?
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Nefret AND Mary Russell meeting Lucy and Susan?
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Oh, this is too good, really. I must dig the King books out from wherever they're hiding in the stacks and re-read them. But now, of course, Edmund will be sneaking in...
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(Oh, and not sure if you saw this on the forum, rth, but I know you'll be pleased: Guess who got the Irregulars from the library and is halfway through chapter one already?)
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Ha! then you will see precisely where I got the ideas from and just how far I departed from "the reality" -- which itself is open to question as spies are notoriously poor sources. The accomplishments of Canadian William Stephenson and the BSC were certainly important to the War!
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And yes, I suppose it would be rather hard to trust the word of a spy!
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You should read He Shall Thunder in the Sky, which is older Ramses set on preventing the Turks from starting a revolt in Cairo to distract the British from an attack on the Canal. It pieces in with Jerusalem frighteningly well.
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