The Prompts Game, Round Two

[gmtaslash]

Trojie and Bridget encourage each other to write shameless PWP once again. ansela_jonla betas in an attempt to take her mind off a buggered back.

Title: The Art of Negotiation
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia, sometime during the Golden Age
Author: Trojie
Pairing: Edmund/OC
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: "Speaking of blatant porn, can I have Edmund, ahem, "streamlining" some diplomatic deal or other?"
Disclaimer: I'm almost 100% certain that Lewis never envisioned this sort of political situation in Narnia. Or rather, that he never envisioned this method of sorting it out. Blame Bridget and the fact that apparently I'm incapable of refusing her orders prompts.



Edmund pushed his sweat-matted hair out of his eyes and looked down. 'You know,' he said conversationally, as if he wasn't half-naked in bed with the Galmian ambassador for trade relations, 'I've often thought that there was a ... friendlier way to conduct negotiations.'

The ambassador's eyes widened. 'My lord,' he said, in astonishment. 'This is anything but business to me-'

Edmund laughed. 'It is nothing but business,' he said, stroking the ambassador's shoulderblades gently. 'Nothing is ever aught but business, my friend, whether it be your wife tossing my brother's sheets or the spirited attempt by your King's third son to seduce our Lucy. Which failed, I may as well tell you.' He reached for the ties in the other man's breeches as he spoke. 'And so here you are, in the best position-' he shifted slightly, to bring vital things into interesting conjuctions '-to bend my ear to your plans. So tell me, my lord. What can Narnia do for you?' Edmund slid his hand into the ambassador's breeches, savouring the contact, the little noises, the heat and the sweat and most of all, the power.

Your Majesty is cruel,' the ambassador gasped. 'How poorly you must have been -unh- treated in the past, to think that-'

'To think that you might want me for myself and naught else?'

'Truly, your Majesty, I have no other thoughts than thee at this moment!'

Edmund's hand sped up, his teeth found a tender spot to worry at the ambassador's neck, ensuring that no, the man could have no other thoughts. 'I'm sure you do not,' said Edmund. 'But that is not why I am here.'

There was no answer but a strained moan. Edmund judged the moment right, and let go.

He sat up, still wearing his own breeches, only the slightest sheen of sweat to mark his latest activity, and looked down at the man spread out over his sheets, panting as if he'd run a mile.

'And here we are,' he said, as if they were in the council chambers, as if he hadn't brought the man to the very edge of orgasm and then denied him. 'I happen to know that you have a ship out to sea, filled with antisocial men with edged weapons, and a pressing need to feed your general populace, who suffered greatly during the winter, what with crop failure and some rather unwise taxes. And I would like you to know that High King Peter takes a dim view of your martial ambitions.'

He leaned down, brushing soft fingers over the man's hot, heaving chest, and whispered, cool and delicate, into his ear. 'I don't have to tell him. Just tell me what you want.' Edmund's fingers ghosted closer and closer to the ambassador's thighs. 'We can lend you the supplies, at a suitable rate of interest, of course-' His fingers trace the ambassador's navel. 'We can even sell you bags of seed so that you can restore your failing fields. You'll find that Narnia can be very accommodating,' His hand hovered over a shivering, overheated thigh, and then across, tracing patterns on skin wet with salt and sweat and ... other things. The ambassador whimpered. 'Just tell me. What. You want.'

His hand closed, The Galmian Ambassador for Trade Relations let out a strangled yelp. 'Whatever you say, your Majesty,' he panted, squirming, moaning, pushing against Edmund's hand for not even the length of one more stroke before his release reached him.

He was sobbing as it rolled through his body. 'Excellent,' said Edmund, rolling off the bed and reaching for something on the bedside cabinet. 'So you won't mind signing this, then?'



Title: Opportunity Knocks
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
Author: Bridget
Pairing: Edmund/Caspian
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: "I want you to tell me a story about what happened in Narrowhaven after they retook it. There's nearly a week of unexplained time in the books. Just tell me the story of one moment, or something."
Disclaimer: Trojie owns the prompt. I own my complete inability to write orgasms. C S Lewis owns the rest.



'It's been six days,' Eustace whined. 'Why hasn't anyone found me a British Consul yet?'

'Because there aren't any,' Edmund sighed, kicking his heels against his chair leg and staring out of the window at the activity in the harbour below.

'Then why don't we go somewhere that has one? This is kidnapping, you know. Harold and Alberta will be furious.'

Edmund turned to face his cousin. 'Haven't you been paying any attention? Time moves differently here. They won't even notice you've gone.'

'Oh, yes, like I'm supposed to believe that silly fairy story you and Lucy are always banging on about.'

Edmund raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. If his cousin wanted to deny the patently obvious, that was his own affair.

'What are we waiting for, anyway? Caspian too busy lording it up to remember we're supposed to be on a mission, I suppose. Although I don't think much to it. Rescuing lost lords? Honestly, it's like something out of a kids' story.'

'Eustace, do me a favour?'

'What?' Eustace asked petulantly.

'Shut up.'

Luy came in then, smiling happily, although a glance at Eustace's furious face tempered her joy somewhat. Edmund took advantage of her arrival, and slipped out of the door just as Eustace started berating her for his terrible mistreatment.

Outside, the sky was bright and the clouds still. Edmund ambled downhill, enjoying the smell of the sea and the blessed escape from his cousin.

'King Edmund!' Caspian cried jovially as he reached the docks. The young king grabbed Edmund's arm, and pulled him forward to see the bustling activity aboard the Dawn Treader. 'She's just about ready to sail. They're loading up provisions now. Drinian says we just have to wait for a fair wind, although when that will be, who can say?'

'At this time of year?' Edmund said, noting the hand still grasping his arm. 'Bearing in mind our latitude, and currents coming up from the south ... I have no idea.' He grinned. 'Never was a great sailor. Did I ever tell you about the time we went down to see the Tisroc? His son was after Susan's hand. Took me the entire journey just to get the hang of what to call the pointy end.'

Caspian turned from the ship then, and began leading Edmund through the narrow streets surrounding the harbour. 'Fortunately,' he said with a wry smile, 'there's plenty to keep me occupied while I'm here.'

'Oh?'

'Legal disputes, mostly.' The king pulled a face. 'I'm sure I didn't sign up for all this when I accepted the crown, you know.'

'You sound like Peter,' Edmund chastised. 'He was forever running off to make merry and throw tournaments, leaving me to deal with the politics.'

'Politics is boring,' Caspian declared emphatically as they reached the Governer's house. 'There are far better ways to occupy oneself.'

'Such as?' Edmund asked.

'I'm sure we'll think of something.' Caspian grinned wickedly.

'Indeed. I can't help noticing -' Edmund's voice dropped to a whisper, and Caspian leaned closer to hear - 'we appear to be heading for your room?'

'Of course. Unless you'd prefer to be ravished in the courtyard?'

Edmund chuckled. 'I think the residents of Narrowhaven have had enough surprises for now, don't you?' They had reached Caspian's temporary room now, and the king reached for the door handle. Pulling Edmund inside, he closed the door, and turned the key in the lock. The quiet snick as the outside world was cut off sent a shiver of anticipation down Edmund's spine.

The next thing he knew, he was on his back on the bed, and Caspian's tongue was doing something terribly naughty to his neck. He also appeared to have hands everywhere.

'Are you sure this is wise?' Edmund asked, taking full advantage of the last opportunity for rational thought he was likely to have for some time.

'Can you think of any better way to spend an afternoon?' Caspian asked, his voice slightly muffled.

'No, but the Lord Bern probably can. You have a meeting with him in twenty minutes, in case you'd forgotten.'

'I have? Damn.' Caspian rolled over onto his back and sighed. Edmund gave him a sideways look.

'Best be quick then,' he said, reaching for the King's belt and dispensing with the buckle with alacrity.

They were silent for a few moments, intent on revealing as much skin as possible as quickly as they could. When Edmund had been divested of all clothing, Caspian sat back on his heels and considered him.

'We haven't got time for sightseeing,' Edmund reminded him gently, before getting up himself and sliding a hand round Caspian's head, and pulling him close for a kiss. His other hand slid down over Caspian's chest, before coming to rest where it was most wanted.

Caspian made a small noise in the back of his throat, and reached out for Edmund. Unfortunately, his haste unbalanced them, and they toppled back onto the bed in a tangle of limbs.

'I had hoped for more time,' Edmund admitted, his face pressing into Caspian's shoulder, 'to do this properly.'

'Since we finally have some privacy,' Caspian agreed.

'Bloody Eustace,' Edmund muttered.

Caspian's face wrinkled in distaste. 'Let's leave him out of this.' Edmund let it drop, and the king resumed acquainting himself with every inch of Edmund's chest.

It was when Edmund had flipped Caspian over, and was admiring the curve of the king's lips as he cried out and his back arched, that there was a knock on the door. They both ignored it, too intent on the friction between them for the sound to really register.

The knocking came again, louder this time. Edmund paused, and Caspian looked up at him through eyes heavy with lust. He squeezed Edmund's buttock gently. 'Ignore it.'

'It's probably someone to collect you for your meeting.'

'Bern can wait. This is more important.'

'We really have to work on your priorities,' Edmund murmured, but he obediently leant down to capture Caspian's lips in another kiss, and thrust his hips forward again, revelling inthe delicious heat and friction.

The kissing had the handy bonus of muffling their moans as they clutched at one another. Caspian's hands struggled for purchase on Edmund's sweat-slicked skin as they moved together, and he was moaning into the king's neck, nibbling gently on the soft skin there when, without warning, the door burst open.

Caspian was amazed. He hadn't realised humans could move so fast. One minute Edmund was atop him, babbling incoherently into his neck as they neared completion, and the next he was alone on the bed in a most undignified state, breathless and on the edge.

There was a muffled thump as of a body hitting the floor, and Caspian felt the sheet under him tugged sideways, and then Drinian was backing out of the room, apologising profusely, eyes screwed tightly shut. Caspian grabbed a pillow and put it to excellent use in the name of modesty.

'Your Highness, excuse me, I - didn't realise ... the ship is provisioned, sire, and the winds are - are good, and -' There was another thump as Drinian, unable to see, walked into the doorframe. 'I'll, er, wait for you outside, sire.'

The door closed behind him, and Caspian, red-faced, slumped back on the bed and sighed.

'Is he gone?' came a hiss from beside the bed.

'He's gone,' Caspian confirmed, covering his face with both hands.

'Do you think he saw me?' Edmund asked, his head poking cautiously up over the edge of the bed. Caspian rolled over to look at him.

'I doubt even an eagle would have seen you. You move faster than a Mouse at times of great need.' He reached out to brush a stray strand of Edmund's hair from his eyes.

'Alas, great need is foiled once again,' Edmund said ruefully, standing up and reaching for his tunic. 'And might I suggest the next time we land somewhere civilised, we ensure the doors have bolts?'

'A capital idea,' Caspian agreed, before sighing and standing himself, and heading for the door. 'Duty calls, I suppose.'

'Clothes first,' Edmund reminded him.