While I do inevitably join Larm in most things, I have been a Tebbitt stan ever since I read TQSIT a decade ago! In fact...in honor of your birthday, here is a little unfinished rth!verse snippet I dug up from my files that's literally dated 2012. And manages to be all about Tebbitt without his ever actually making an appearance.
- “So, brother, do we make our stand here or stage a tactical retreat to a back room?”
“Oh, I think we'll be just fine here,” Peter said, and something dangerously smug in his voice caught Lucy's ear. Dragging herself from the depths of pie-making (she'd abandoned the recipe twenty minutes ago, when its restraints had become intolerable, and was now slightly regretting it, as she suspected pie crust wasn't meant to be that color), she stuck her head through the kitchen doorway to see Edmund lounging in his favorite overstuffed leather chair while Peter stood at the window, lacking only a sword at his hip to go with his I-am-the-High-King-and-see-that-you-don’t-forget-it posture.
“What's the trouble?” she asked. “Eustace isn't on his way with more slides, is he? Reptiles are lovely, really, but they might be better appreciated in smaller quantities.”
“No,” said Edmund, as one of the bedroom doors shut and the click of Susan's heels sounded in the hallway. “Himself is on the way over, that's all.”
Susan swept into the room on a hint of perfume and the swish of silk. “He has a name, you know-”
“Several, as I recall,” Edmund muttered.
“And there's no good reason at all why you two should act like such children about him.” Only the arch of Susan's brows gave away that she'd taken any notice at all of the interruption.
“Of course there is,” Peter said, turning slightly from his post at the window. “We simply don't like him.”
Watching Ed grin, Lucy couldn't suppress a giggle, which led to Susan turning a disappointed gaze on her. “I suppose you don't care for him either, Lucy.”
“I think he's an utter rogue,” Lucy admitted cheerfully, wrapping her arms around Susan in a brief squeeze, hoping rather belatedly that she hadn't left behind cherry handprints. “But you like him, and that's what's important.”
“Since when is that what matters?”
“Since we live in a world where the pair of you are allowed to love without diplomatic constraints,” Lucy said, glaring in Peter's direction.
“Oh please, let's not start that again.”
*
“I must say, I'm very interested to meet him; anyone who arouses such ire in Peter is well worth knowing, in my opinion. Is he interested in lizards?” Mary asked, weaving her way through knee-deep piles of books, searching the library shelves. Susan was privately betting it wouldn't take five minutes before at least one pile had been knocked over.
“Tebbitt? I shouldn't think so.”
“Hmm. How about hips, then?”
“Oh yes,” said Susan, the smile curving across her face only partly having to do with the precarious teetering of the tallest stack, “I don't think there's any doubt of his interest there.”
no subject
-
“So, brother, do we make our stand here or stage a tactical retreat to a back room?”
“Oh, I think we'll be just fine here,” Peter said, and something dangerously smug in his voice caught Lucy's ear. Dragging herself from the depths of pie-making (she'd abandoned the recipe twenty minutes ago, when its restraints had become intolerable, and was now slightly regretting it, as she suspected pie crust wasn't meant to be that color), she stuck her head through the kitchen doorway to see Edmund lounging in his favorite overstuffed leather chair while Peter stood at the window, lacking only a sword at his hip to go with his I-am-the-High-King-and-see-that-you-don’t-forget-it posture.
“What's the trouble?” she asked. “Eustace isn't on his way with more slides, is he? Reptiles are lovely, really, but they might be better appreciated in smaller quantities.”
“No,” said Edmund, as one of the bedroom doors shut and the click of Susan's heels sounded in the hallway. “Himself is on the way over, that's all.”
Susan swept into the room on a hint of perfume and the swish of silk. “He has a name, you know-”
“Several, as I recall,” Edmund muttered.
“And there's no good reason at all why you two should act like such children about him.” Only the arch of Susan's brows gave away that she'd taken any notice at all of the interruption.
“Of course there is,” Peter said, turning slightly from his post at the window. “We simply don't like him.”
Watching Ed grin, Lucy couldn't suppress a giggle, which led to Susan turning a disappointed gaze on her. “I suppose you don't care for him either, Lucy.”
“I think he's an utter rogue,” Lucy admitted cheerfully, wrapping her arms around Susan in a brief squeeze, hoping rather belatedly that she hadn't left behind cherry handprints. “But you like him, and that's what's important.”
“Since when is that what matters?”
“Since we live in a world where the pair of you are allowed to love without diplomatic constraints,” Lucy said, glaring in Peter's direction.
“Oh please, let's not start that again.”
*
“I must say, I'm very interested to meet him; anyone who arouses such ire in Peter is well worth knowing, in my opinion. Is he interested in lizards?” Mary asked, weaving her way through knee-deep piles of books, searching the library shelves. Susan was privately betting it wouldn't take five minutes before at least one pile had been knocked over.
“Tebbitt? I shouldn't think so.”
“Hmm. How about hips, then?”
“Oh yes,” said Susan, the smile curving across her face only partly having to do with the precarious teetering of the tallest stack, “I don't think there's any doubt of his interest there.”