TSG-verse, AU, Susan and Edmund's travels
Ruth said it would be good to have this all together in one post!
anastigmatfic had Peter, Eustace, Mary and Asim in the Everglades, and mentioned that Susan and Edmund were in Russia. Ruth wondered what they were doing there.
Edmund hadn't wanted to come to Russia in the first place. He had rather thought to leave Rat and Crow to Susan in England, but first she had dragged him into that code breaking business, and now she had insisted on him coming along to Russia, while she tried to retrieve a wayward spy or two.
And yes, his fluency in Russian matched hers, but surely she could have found another equally talented colleague to bring along. After two months in Moscow, living in a concrete box that passed for a flat, spending his days roaming the city, tracking down rumors and leads, while Susan arranged clandestine meetings with her contacts; and his nights translating memos and notes from Russian and then encrypting them, and arguing with Susan over whose turn it was to sleep in the single bed and who got the floor, Edmund found himself wishing he had joined Peter and Eustace on their Florida expedition.
He imagined Florida was much warmer. And much safer. And that Peter was considerably more sober than Edmund had been in two months.
Edmund tried to remember the last time he was completely sober, and found it harder than he would have thought. But in his own defense, Moscow in March had very little to offer besides vodka. And potatoes. And vodka. And cabbage. And vodka. And snow, sleet, and slush. Oh, and vodka.
However, judging by the expression on Susan's face as she dumped the contents of his current bottle down the drain, he didn't think she was all that concerned with his boredom.
"I wasn't finished with that."
"You're finished now." She left the bottle by the sink and pulled her suitcase out from under the bed. "Get ready, we're leaving."
Edmund blinked. Maybe he was drunker than he realized. "Leaving? Now? But you haven't convinced Burgess --"
"I know, but I've run out of time. Sidorov said my cover's about to be blown, probably by Burgess himself. We have to catch the next train out of here, while we still have the time." Susan frowned at the suitcase as she hastily stuffed items in it, as if trying to make it expand by the power of will. Then she glanced at him. "What are you waiting for? We have to hurry, Sidorov's waiting downstairs to take us to the train."
Edmund groaned and gestured to the doorway, where his suitcase was already standing. "I never unpacked, remember? You told me we'd probably be leaving in a hurry." He slid the papers he'd been translating into a battered leather file - they'd be leaving these with Sidorov, rather than risk being caught with them while they traveled. "But wait, Burgess is the one turning you in? I thought SIS sent you after him since he'd been moony-eyed over you all those years."
"Evidently I'm not worth being tried for treason," Susan said wryly. She snapped the suitcase shut and pulled on her coat, and tossed his coat to him. "I really never thought I'd convince him to return with us, but at least we uncovered some very sensitive and useful information while we've been here. It was a good start. They'll be pleased back at home."
"We also have a good start on a long term drinking problem."
"Speak for yourself." Susan snatched the leather file and swept past him out the door.
Edmund took both suitcases and shut the door behind them without a single glance back at the horrid flat. He followed Susan down several flights of stairs, thinking it would have been nice to finish the vodka before heading out into the cold night.
If they made it out of Russia without being caught, the first thing he intended to do was to join Peter and the others in Florida. Sun and relaxation and fresh fruit and no vodka and no danger and no KGB hot on their heels.
Well, maybe a little vodka with his orange juice.
So Edmund and Susan make it out of Russia and into the Ukraine, and eventually arrive in Odessa where they are met by Tebbitt, who has a cargo ship waiting to take them to Istanbul, and then on to Greece, and eventually home.
~~
Edmund picked morosely at the caviar and looked up at Vasily hopefully. "Any more vodka, by any chance?"
He tried to speak loudly to avoid hearing the rhythmic thumps coming from the forecabin. The lovemaking didn't affect Vasily one bit as the man was deaf.
But Edmund was nowhere near drunk enough to drown out that -- oh Aslan, no -- high pictched squeal that surely couldn't be Susan's.
It was obviously a sea gull. Or, a porpoise perhaps.
Edmund took a bite of caviar and wondered idly if there was any spare tubing on the boat with which he could devise a still and make vodka.
Because caviar wasn't helping. At all.
~~
"Good morning!"
He winced and cracked open an eye. "Sister." She was far too cheerful at such an early hour in the day.
"You look horrible this morning, Edmund."
He ignored her comment and slowly lifted his head from the table. His arm had made an uncomfortable pillow and he shook it from elbow to wrist, waiting for the numbness to dissipate.
"Did you not sleep at all? The currents could not have been that bad. Vasily said we had made a smooth sailing overnight." She let out a yawn and quickly covered her mouth with her slim fingers. "That's odd. I don't feel sleepy, but it seems my body is telling me otherwise."
He looked up and after a quick glance at her, reached for the glass on the table. He tipped it over and frowned. Not even a single drop left.
"Brother, do say something. Your silence concerns me."
With a sigh, he licked his lips and his eyes brightened a little bit. There was a lingering taste of alcohol still there. Turning his attention to her, he finally said, "I'm surprised you slept at all, Susan. One could hardly do anything but stay awake given how much noise came from your cabin."
She blushed. "Well, I--that is--"
"I will assume you were well attended by our Lord Peridan," he commented dryly. He wondered if it was too late to follow up on that threat made years ago, when he and Peter read through her letters and discussed holding the man down and running a sword through him.
~~
Edmund was approaching sobriety faster than they were approaching Greece. It was a pitiful state of affairs. He slumped in a pile of lines and nets in the stern of the boat. Here, with the stench of petrol and the roar of the engines, he was at least out of the way of the very persistent and noisy reunion in the bow cabin.
One of the parties responsible for his misery sauntered up, scrubbed, shaved, and obviously well sated.
"Feeling a little low, Edmund?" Tebbitt asked.
"Go away, or I will kill you," Edmund replied. There were spears and hooks on the boat for handling the big fish. He would happily impale Tebbitt. No jury would convict him.
Instead, Tebbitt pulled up a coil of rope and sat. "Did you ever hear the story of what your sister did to keep me sober in the summer of '42?"
Edmund opened an eye.
"She bribed the bartenders and wait staff at embassies and restaurants. They watered my drinks, cut me off at one glass, and eventually just stopped serving me altogether. I couldn't get a drink if I'd been dying of thirst. Which, I was."
Edmund felt a stirring of solidarity and camaraderie. "I had a bottle of perfectly fine vodka. She poured it down the drain right before we left." Such a sad, sad loss. Why was all the vodka gone?
"Since that time, I have taken a page from Susan's book and learned to plan for every contingency."
Edmund opened the other eye.
From his pea coat, Tebbitt removed a large flask. "Assuming you don't mind a change from home distilled vodka to aged Kentucky bourbon?"
Edmund sat up and looked at the silver rectangular container in Tebbitt's hand. He thought he could hear the liquid inside sloshing around as the other man waved the flask in front of him.
Perhaps he will not run Peridan through after all. And he will not have to give Susan a reason to toss him overboard.
Tebbitt twisted the cap off and handed the metal container to him. Edmund brought it to nose and sniffed. It certainly smelled of liquor. He raised the flask in mock salute and took a swig. He swished the liquid in his mouth, savoring the burning sensation before he swallowed.
"Good stuff," he said, warmed by the alcohol flowing through his body. He lowered the flask and examined the dents and scuff marks that marred the silver. "Dare I ask?" he said, rubbing his fingers into the shallow depressions in the metal.
"Better not to," answered the other man. "I may have to kill you if you knew."
Edmund briefly entertained the idea of a duel with the man. He wondered which of them would win. Tebbitt knew how to use a gun and fly a plane, but Edmund had learned how to fight with blades and his hands. He shook his head and dismissed the thought (for now). With a shrug, he reluctantly returned the flask to its owner. "It makes the vodka taste like water."
Tebbitt snorted. "From what I've heard, you were drinking it like water." He took a deep draught from it and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.
"It was stronger than I expected it to be."
"Finest compliment you can pay to any Gentleman's good taste," Tebbitt recited. At Edmund's querying glance, he elaborated. "It's an Old Forester from the early '40s. I've hoarded a few bottles while working at the Embassy in Washington."
"Ah." He wasn't of drinking age back then. At least, not in this world. "And you're sure my sister knows nothing of your contraband?"
"As I said, contingency plans. Otherwise, I'm sure she would have tipped it into the Black Sea by now."
"I highly doubt that."
"Oh?"
"Susan is to aged bourbon as Peter is to tequila."
~~
Eventually they arrive in Greece, and end up on the island of Santorini, where Edmund finally gets lucky...
In Santorini, Edmund meets a girl who is as different from Morgan as it is possible to be and still remain female. She has very big eyes and a sweet smile and she charms him with her dancing and a bottle of ouzo, and it's very easy for him to continue being charmed all the way to her bed.
And that night, in her white-washed bedroom below a blue dome, Edmund dreams not of lions, but of the bulls of the Minoans, and the lost city he wanders in is not Cair Paravel, but Atlantis.
In his dreams he sees the wonders and glories of Atlantis, before the Cataclysm. He visits the greats harbors and marvels at the fleet of ships traveling in and out. He sees the elephants in the fields and wanders through the grand buildings and the farms and finally to the top of the mountain, in the center of the island. And there, he hears voices that he thinks he recognizes.
When he wakes the next morning, he slips out and watches the sunrise over the Caldera, and both Narnia and Atlantis weigh heavy in his mind.
Edmund stays in Santorini, looking for Atlantis.
Edmund finds many ways to pass the time in Santorini. Susan is busy with reports and cables and encrypted files, and equally as important, with Tebbitt. So Edmund spends his evenings with Eleni, dancing and drinking ouzo, and the vinsanto from her family's vineyards. Nights are spent in her bed, beneath the blue dome, and his dreams are always of Atlantis: the ring islands and the inner and outer harbors; the fields of sun-drenched gold, the magnificent structures of the main city, the music and the food and the people, greeting him like an old friend; and always, the volcano at the heart of Atlantis, towering over it all .
His days are spent exploring the island - visiting the vineyards with Eleni; practicing his Greek in the markets of Fira and Oia; driving from farm to farm, sampling local bounty; and hours in the harbor, watching the boats come and go, gliding smoothly over the deep blue of the Caldera. The days are warm and sundrenched, and Edmund goes from sunburnt to a deep tan, and soon feels at home on the island, connected in a way he hasn't felt in years.
He tries to match his dreams to the land he walks by day, and it's not hard to find a little of Atlantis in every corner of Santorini. In the local libraries, he reads about the history and legends of Santorini. He wonders about his new fluency in Greek, then remembers that he speaks it in his dreams.
When Susan is ready to leave Santorini, Edmund insists on staying. Atlantis calls to him in his dreams and while he doesn't know what exactly she wants, he knows he needs to stay until he understands. Susan is dubious, but Edmund assures her he'll be fine. He has his passport (several, in fact, thanks to her) and he has money, and he promises to be back in England when Peter and the others return. So Susan and Tebbitt depart, and Edmund waves to them from the docks, as their boat leaves harbor.
The next morning, Edmund hires a boat of his own, and sails out to find the Atlanteans.
anastigmatfic had Peter, Eustace, Mary and Asim in the Everglades, and mentioned that Susan and Edmund were in Russia. Ruth wondered what they were doing there.
Edmund hadn't wanted to come to Russia in the first place. He had rather thought to leave Rat and Crow to Susan in England, but first she had dragged him into that code breaking business, and now she had insisted on him coming along to Russia, while she tried to retrieve a wayward spy or two.
And yes, his fluency in Russian matched hers, but surely she could have found another equally talented colleague to bring along. After two months in Moscow, living in a concrete box that passed for a flat, spending his days roaming the city, tracking down rumors and leads, while Susan arranged clandestine meetings with her contacts; and his nights translating memos and notes from Russian and then encrypting them, and arguing with Susan over whose turn it was to sleep in the single bed and who got the floor, Edmund found himself wishing he had joined Peter and Eustace on their Florida expedition.
He imagined Florida was much warmer. And much safer. And that Peter was considerably more sober than Edmund had been in two months.
Edmund tried to remember the last time he was completely sober, and found it harder than he would have thought. But in his own defense, Moscow in March had very little to offer besides vodka. And potatoes. And vodka. And cabbage. And vodka. And snow, sleet, and slush. Oh, and vodka.
However, judging by the expression on Susan's face as she dumped the contents of his current bottle down the drain, he didn't think she was all that concerned with his boredom.
"I wasn't finished with that."
"You're finished now." She left the bottle by the sink and pulled her suitcase out from under the bed. "Get ready, we're leaving."
Edmund blinked. Maybe he was drunker than he realized. "Leaving? Now? But you haven't convinced Burgess --"
"I know, but I've run out of time. Sidorov said my cover's about to be blown, probably by Burgess himself. We have to catch the next train out of here, while we still have the time." Susan frowned at the suitcase as she hastily stuffed items in it, as if trying to make it expand by the power of will. Then she glanced at him. "What are you waiting for? We have to hurry, Sidorov's waiting downstairs to take us to the train."
Edmund groaned and gestured to the doorway, where his suitcase was already standing. "I never unpacked, remember? You told me we'd probably be leaving in a hurry." He slid the papers he'd been translating into a battered leather file - they'd be leaving these with Sidorov, rather than risk being caught with them while they traveled. "But wait, Burgess is the one turning you in? I thought SIS sent you after him since he'd been moony-eyed over you all those years."
"Evidently I'm not worth being tried for treason," Susan said wryly. She snapped the suitcase shut and pulled on her coat, and tossed his coat to him. "I really never thought I'd convince him to return with us, but at least we uncovered some very sensitive and useful information while we've been here. It was a good start. They'll be pleased back at home."
"We also have a good start on a long term drinking problem."
"Speak for yourself." Susan snatched the leather file and swept past him out the door.
Edmund took both suitcases and shut the door behind them without a single glance back at the horrid flat. He followed Susan down several flights of stairs, thinking it would have been nice to finish the vodka before heading out into the cold night.
If they made it out of Russia without being caught, the first thing he intended to do was to join Peter and the others in Florida. Sun and relaxation and fresh fruit and no vodka and no danger and no KGB hot on their heels.
Well, maybe a little vodka with his orange juice.
So Edmund and Susan make it out of Russia and into the Ukraine, and eventually arrive in Odessa where they are met by Tebbitt, who has a cargo ship waiting to take them to Istanbul, and then on to Greece, and eventually home.
~~
Edmund picked morosely at the caviar and looked up at Vasily hopefully. "Any more vodka, by any chance?"
He tried to speak loudly to avoid hearing the rhythmic thumps coming from the forecabin. The lovemaking didn't affect Vasily one bit as the man was deaf.
But Edmund was nowhere near drunk enough to drown out that -- oh Aslan, no -- high pictched squeal that surely couldn't be Susan's.
It was obviously a sea gull. Or, a porpoise perhaps.
Edmund took a bite of caviar and wondered idly if there was any spare tubing on the boat with which he could devise a still and make vodka.
Because caviar wasn't helping. At all.
~~
"Good morning!"
He winced and cracked open an eye. "Sister." She was far too cheerful at such an early hour in the day.
"You look horrible this morning, Edmund."
He ignored her comment and slowly lifted his head from the table. His arm had made an uncomfortable pillow and he shook it from elbow to wrist, waiting for the numbness to dissipate.
"Did you not sleep at all? The currents could not have been that bad. Vasily said we had made a smooth sailing overnight." She let out a yawn and quickly covered her mouth with her slim fingers. "That's odd. I don't feel sleepy, but it seems my body is telling me otherwise."
He looked up and after a quick glance at her, reached for the glass on the table. He tipped it over and frowned. Not even a single drop left.
"Brother, do say something. Your silence concerns me."
With a sigh, he licked his lips and his eyes brightened a little bit. There was a lingering taste of alcohol still there. Turning his attention to her, he finally said, "I'm surprised you slept at all, Susan. One could hardly do anything but stay awake given how much noise came from your cabin."
She blushed. "Well, I--that is--"
"I will assume you were well attended by our Lord Peridan," he commented dryly. He wondered if it was too late to follow up on that threat made years ago, when he and Peter read through her letters and discussed holding the man down and running a sword through him.
~~
Edmund was approaching sobriety faster than they were approaching Greece. It was a pitiful state of affairs. He slumped in a pile of lines and nets in the stern of the boat. Here, with the stench of petrol and the roar of the engines, he was at least out of the way of the very persistent and noisy reunion in the bow cabin.
One of the parties responsible for his misery sauntered up, scrubbed, shaved, and obviously well sated.
"Feeling a little low, Edmund?" Tebbitt asked.
"Go away, or I will kill you," Edmund replied. There were spears and hooks on the boat for handling the big fish. He would happily impale Tebbitt. No jury would convict him.
Instead, Tebbitt pulled up a coil of rope and sat. "Did you ever hear the story of what your sister did to keep me sober in the summer of '42?"
Edmund opened an eye.
"She bribed the bartenders and wait staff at embassies and restaurants. They watered my drinks, cut me off at one glass, and eventually just stopped serving me altogether. I couldn't get a drink if I'd been dying of thirst. Which, I was."
Edmund felt a stirring of solidarity and camaraderie. "I had a bottle of perfectly fine vodka. She poured it down the drain right before we left." Such a sad, sad loss. Why was all the vodka gone?
"Since that time, I have taken a page from Susan's book and learned to plan for every contingency."
Edmund opened the other eye.
From his pea coat, Tebbitt removed a large flask. "Assuming you don't mind a change from home distilled vodka to aged Kentucky bourbon?"
Edmund sat up and looked at the silver rectangular container in Tebbitt's hand. He thought he could hear the liquid inside sloshing around as the other man waved the flask in front of him.
Perhaps he will not run Peridan through after all. And he will not have to give Susan a reason to toss him overboard.
Tebbitt twisted the cap off and handed the metal container to him. Edmund brought it to nose and sniffed. It certainly smelled of liquor. He raised the flask in mock salute and took a swig. He swished the liquid in his mouth, savoring the burning sensation before he swallowed.
"Good stuff," he said, warmed by the alcohol flowing through his body. He lowered the flask and examined the dents and scuff marks that marred the silver. "Dare I ask?" he said, rubbing his fingers into the shallow depressions in the metal.
"Better not to," answered the other man. "I may have to kill you if you knew."
Edmund briefly entertained the idea of a duel with the man. He wondered which of them would win. Tebbitt knew how to use a gun and fly a plane, but Edmund had learned how to fight with blades and his hands. He shook his head and dismissed the thought (for now). With a shrug, he reluctantly returned the flask to its owner. "It makes the vodka taste like water."
Tebbitt snorted. "From what I've heard, you were drinking it like water." He took a deep draught from it and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.
"It was stronger than I expected it to be."
"Finest compliment you can pay to any Gentleman's good taste," Tebbitt recited. At Edmund's querying glance, he elaborated. "It's an Old Forester from the early '40s. I've hoarded a few bottles while working at the Embassy in Washington."
"Ah." He wasn't of drinking age back then. At least, not in this world. "And you're sure my sister knows nothing of your contraband?"
"As I said, contingency plans. Otherwise, I'm sure she would have tipped it into the Black Sea by now."
"I highly doubt that."
"Oh?"
"Susan is to aged bourbon as Peter is to tequila."
~~
Eventually they arrive in Greece, and end up on the island of Santorini, where Edmund finally gets lucky...
In Santorini, Edmund meets a girl who is as different from Morgan as it is possible to be and still remain female. She has very big eyes and a sweet smile and she charms him with her dancing and a bottle of ouzo, and it's very easy for him to continue being charmed all the way to her bed.
And that night, in her white-washed bedroom below a blue dome, Edmund dreams not of lions, but of the bulls of the Minoans, and the lost city he wanders in is not Cair Paravel, but Atlantis.
In his dreams he sees the wonders and glories of Atlantis, before the Cataclysm. He visits the greats harbors and marvels at the fleet of ships traveling in and out. He sees the elephants in the fields and wanders through the grand buildings and the farms and finally to the top of the mountain, in the center of the island. And there, he hears voices that he thinks he recognizes.
When he wakes the next morning, he slips out and watches the sunrise over the Caldera, and both Narnia and Atlantis weigh heavy in his mind.
Edmund stays in Santorini, looking for Atlantis.
Edmund finds many ways to pass the time in Santorini. Susan is busy with reports and cables and encrypted files, and equally as important, with Tebbitt. So Edmund spends his evenings with Eleni, dancing and drinking ouzo, and the vinsanto from her family's vineyards. Nights are spent in her bed, beneath the blue dome, and his dreams are always of Atlantis: the ring islands and the inner and outer harbors; the fields of sun-drenched gold, the magnificent structures of the main city, the music and the food and the people, greeting him like an old friend; and always, the volcano at the heart of Atlantis, towering over it all .
His days are spent exploring the island - visiting the vineyards with Eleni; practicing his Greek in the markets of Fira and Oia; driving from farm to farm, sampling local bounty; and hours in the harbor, watching the boats come and go, gliding smoothly over the deep blue of the Caldera. The days are warm and sundrenched, and Edmund goes from sunburnt to a deep tan, and soon feels at home on the island, connected in a way he hasn't felt in years.
He tries to match his dreams to the land he walks by day, and it's not hard to find a little of Atlantis in every corner of Santorini. In the local libraries, he reads about the history and legends of Santorini. He wonders about his new fluency in Greek, then remembers that he speaks it in his dreams.
When Susan is ready to leave Santorini, Edmund insists on staying. Atlantis calls to him in his dreams and while he doesn't know what exactly she wants, he knows he needs to stay until he understands. Susan is dubious, but Edmund assures her he'll be fine. He has his passport (several, in fact, thanks to her) and he has money, and he promises to be back in England when Peter and the others return. So Susan and Tebbitt depart, and Edmund waves to them from the docks, as their boat leaves harbor.
The next morning, Edmund hires a boat of his own, and sails out to find the Atlanteans.