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I bring you a list of awesome.

1.

capslock_merlin. When I talk about this show it's mostly in capslock anyway, so, perfect. If you don't care about being spoiled for Episode 11, please click here omg.

2.

reel_merlin. A list of suggested movies for claiming. Back to the Future AU? Hitchhiker's Guide AU? JURASSIC PARK AU? OCEAN'S 11 AU?!? OMFG. I DON'T KNOW WHICH TO FLAIL ABOUT MORE AND THEY HAVEN'T BEEN WRITTEN YETfalskdf';slgk;dfk'g';dal;sfdlk

2a. Ages ago I fiddled with the idea of a Boondock Saints AU where Peter and Edmund destroy shit and kill people in the name of god ~~andthentheyhavesex~~. It's not like they'd be completely out of their element. Aslan is totally Il Duce, but damned if I know who Smecker would be. Caspian is Greenly.

3. Speaking of Boondock Saints, In God's Country is greenapple's drabble-remix of my Boondock Saints fic Big Sky Country and it (the remix) is AMAZING. AMAZING. Connor/Murphy (warning: incest etc), rated R. Big ups to her for condensing 5000 words down to 400. Oh my gosh you guys, BOONDOCK SAINTS. GOOD TIMES. (Also, what is it about a canon with religious themes that makes it so prone to incest?)

4.

amory_vain remixed my Y Tu Mama Tambien fic here, and it is HOT. I, um... didn't do my drabble remix because I never got my assignment, and then I forgot about it. I FAIL REMIXTHEDRABBLE. But I talked to the mods and they say I can get in on it anyway, late as I am. If I do, I'll apparently be drabbling Heroes!

5. I like to go on TV Tropes' Merlin page and see new stuff get added to it after every episode. Is it just me or are the examples for HoYay/FoeYay extremely skimpy. It is not just me. Camelot is totally crawling with STDs. ETA: Was it one of you guys that added that last bit to Hoyay??

BACK TO THESIS.

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he looses lucy somewhere in the crowd. caspian turns to look for her, but he can't see her, so the only thing he can do is keep moving onwards. then he sees the gift shop, a thin glow of light from within, and three figures. he knows them all, and finds himself reaching for the gun in the back of his slacks.

"drop the gun," he says, and morgana feels the cold metal of the gun at the back of her neck and snarls a curse before obeying. she turns in a whirl of dark hair, her mouth dropping open in surprise as she recognizes him.

"caspian?" she bursts out, stark with surprise.

peter's moving to caspian's side. "do you know everyone?" he demands.

"who was in this level of society six years ago?" caspian says. "yes."

"my sisters," peter continues. "where are they? did they get out? do you know?"

"susan got out," caspian says. "she's got the --" he glances at arthur and morgana and amends, "the thing. lucy and i were together, but we got separated."

"caspian!" morgana exclaims. "what the hell do you think you're doing? where have you been, anyway?" she glares at him suspiciously, and caspian sighs.

-
-

lucy shoves her way through the crowd, looking around a little frantically for peter. then someone grabs her arm.

"lucy!" corin says -- no, not corin, cor; cor has that scar by his eye.

she doesn't even stop to ask what he's doing here. "we have to find peter!" she shouts in his ear.

"corin and aravis," cor says vaguely, waving one hand, and no, no she really doesn't want to know, but peter will.

caspian still has the keys to the car, so susan hails a cab and tells the driver to head for their hotel. if only they had more people, she thinks grimly, they could have the on-call getaway driver. if only they had more time to organize more people. if only peter never got involved with the mafia, et cetera. there was 46 carats of bad juju in her purse and she hated each of them.

"did you just come from that?" asks the driver, looking at the nest of bedlam that is the museum, squad cars beginning to pull up.

"god no," says susan. "i can't stand those high society bitches."

gwen's cellphone rings as the cab drops her off in front of camelot suites, and the caller ID says arthur, so she answers it and runs to the elevator at the same time.

at first she thinks the museum alarms must still be going on, but then she realizes it's just morgana, screaming and screaming, and gwen divides her willpower in two. one half is dedicated to talking morgana down, and the other half is staring down the elevator numbers and willing it to come down faster.

"morgana," says gwen desperately, "slow down, i can't understand you--"

"don't go up into his penthouse," morgana pleads. "gwen, get as far away as you can from camelot--"

"what--"

and then there is a loud rumble, and the building shakes.

the last thing lucy wants when the alarms finally die and the lights come back on is arthur's personal assistant jumping out from behind a pillar yelling I GOT YOU YOU THIEVING BITCH and tackling her to the floor. but it's what she gets anyway. life is tough that way.

"she's not picking up," morgana sobbed, after the third try calling back after her call with gwen was dropped. "oh god, she's not picking up. if she's dead i'm going to take your fucking balls off," she threatens.

caspian raises his hands. "hey, we didn't want any of this to happen, okay?"

"you shut up!" morgana snaps. "i can't believe you! who the fuck do you think you are, just strutting in here like this after years of i don't even know!?"

"maybe she didn't hear the ring," says peter, shrugging. "you gotta figure, with a bomb going off, it's probably chaos over ther--"

"quiet, you," says arthur.

"morgana," says caspian pleadingly, and "morgana," says arthur firmly, and peter stays the hell out of it. if they can just talk morgana down and convince her to go along with the whole thing, they can talk their way out of here easy as pie.

"pete!" someone hisses behind him, and he whirls around. to his relief it's lucy, her makeup smudged and her skirt a little torn, but she looks well enough. "you all right?"

"i am so wonderful right now, thanks for asking."

she ignores him, and goes to tap arthur on the shoulder. "arthur."

"not now," arthur snaps.

"arthur, we've got your personal assistant tied up and unconscious in the janitor's closet," says lucy. "you should see him before he wakes up and tries to fight us again. explain to him the situation."

morgana raises her eyebrows. "the situation, is it?"

"who's 'us'?" caspian asks suspiciously.

"cor," shrugs lucy.

"cor?" peter echoes in disbelief.

"merlin," arthur groans, covering his face with his hands.

"you're not going to be able to see your friend," someone says, and peter turns around to see abruzzi and three of his thugs. abruzzi has a gun in his hand, pointed straight at peter's head. one of his thugs has cor -- no, corin; if edmund is responsible for this somehow peter doesn't know if he wants to punch his brother or kiss him -- in a headlock, a gun in his free hand. the other one has a distinctly bedraggled looking merlin.

"i thought you said he was unconscious," caspian mutters to lucy.

"he was," she protests.

"you!" merlin spits at peter. "this is all your fault!"

peter ignores him, raising his empty hands. "come on, marco," he says. "they got nothing to do with it. let them go."

"why would we do that?"

"because if you hurt him," peter says, tilting his head at corin, "his dad will have your balls cut off and roasted, and make you eat them before he cuts your head off with a butter knife. and i'm sure arthur here could think of something given proper provocation."

"oh, something all right," arthur mutters, then louder, "who are you and what are you doing here?"

marco doesn't answer, just wiggles his gun at the space between peter's eyes. "patriso or no patriso," he says, "you're going to be dead, pevensie. your brother already is."

-
-

"m-morgana?" gwen coughs as she opens his eyes, seeing a blur of dark hair above her.

"not remotely," a male voice says. "hold still, you've got some shrapnel -- this is going to hurt," he warns, and gwen closes her eyes again and hisses out through her teeth as he pulls a chunk of rock or a shard of metal or something out of her arm.

she opens her eyes as he presses a bandage over the spot, keeping his fingers there. dark hair, blue eyes, sharp face -- she doesn't know him. he's not wearing emt gear either.

"who are you?" she asks, then looks around. the lobby of camelot is covered in rock dust; part of the ceiling has caved in and there's an alarm going off belatedly, shrieking over and over.

the stranger grins at her. "i'm edmund pevensie," he says.

lucy screams and curses, but the thugs still have a gun to corin's head and merlin's position isn't that much better. peter reaches out and tugs lucy to him, she struggles nominally but then is slack in his arms, her back against his chest, body slumped forward as she sounds like she's trying not to cry.

"then," peter hears himself saying, "i guess you won't be getting your end of the deal."

"oh, i think we will," says marco.

"we?" peter repeats slowly. everything seems vaguely unreal. he's aware of things in the corners of his vision -- morgana's gun on the floor by a barrel of posters, arthur moving incremental centimeter by centimeter in front of her, caspian with his gun hidden under his jacket. "don patriso and i had a deal!"

"the don's not going to be able to deliver," marco says. "actually, the don's not going to be able to do much of anything." he looks at caspian. "so long as i deliver my end of the bargain."

"miraz," caspian says in a low snarl. "that double-crossing bastard."

"a bullet in your brains and i get the patrisos," marco says. "and then i'll kill you slow, pevensie. real slow. they won't be able to recognize you after i'm done with you. they'll have to identify your what's left of your body from dna."

lucy makes a sharp sobbing sound as peter moves to push her behind him. "oh, yeah?" he says. "are you so sure miraz isn't just going to leave you out to hang? this place is swarming with cops, marco. what are you going to do, kill all of us? kill him and you've got lune on your tail -- and trust me, you don't want to piss him off. kill them and i'm sure uther pendragon will make the rest of your very short life extremely miserable. kill him and it's still murder in the first. kill us -- well, i have contingency plans for that."

"i'll deal with that after i've got the patrisos," marco says, and switches his aim to caspian. as soon as he does, peter throws himself at him, tackling marco to the ground. he doesn't bother going for the gun in his hand, but he and the abruzzis had been -- if not friends -- acquaintances in prison once, and there are certain things he knows.

he'll apologize to lucy later -- she's screaming, over and over again, the sound lost amidst the alarms, peter no no no peter -- but marco drops him onto the floor a minute later, blood streaming down his face from a broken nose. marco doesn't have a hell of a lot of style, but damn if he doesn't know how to put someone down and fast.

"death sentence, pevensie," marco says. "which of them dies first?"

"you," peter says, and shoots him with the spare gun he lifted from marco's ankle-holster while they were fighting. the alarms go off just before the gunshot does.

peter gets to his feet and shoots him twice more for good measure, marco staring at him blankly as the bullets rip through his chest. "bongo," he says, lifting a hand to his chest, and peter shoots him between the eyes.

"let them go," morgana says, her gun back in her hands, and caspian has his piece trained on the other one of marco's thugs. one of them drops merlin on the floor. the other one lets go of corin, slowly, and corin turns around and punches him in the face. "that's for having really bad fucking taste in cologne," he says, then punches him again. "that's for putting a gun to my head. peter, jesus, i'm so sorry," he says in the same breath.

lucy is breathing raggedly, unmoving as morgana and caspian and, belatedly, merlin, go to tie up the three thugs. peter looks down at marco's body and raises the gun again, then lowers it. there's no point.

"edmund," he says. "edmund."

absurdly, morgana's phone rings. she stops what she's doing and stares at it, then gets up and picks it up. "gwen?" she says. "oh, thank god. thank god, thank -- what?" she pulls the phone away from her ear, stares at it like she's never seen anything quite like it before, and holds it out towards peter. "it's for you."

he takes it from her. "hello?" he says.

"don't be mad, pete," is the first thing edmund says.

"i'm going to kill you," peter says. "you fucking bastard, i'm going to kill you."

"that...seems a little counter-productive," edmund says, sounding surprised.

"you fucking bastard --"

lucy comes out of her stupor to snatch the phone from him. "listen here, you asshole," she begins, then pauses. then she bursts into tears and drops the phone. edmund's voice comes from the floor, tinny, "what? what?"

OH MAN YEAH. probably somewhere expensive, and they talk in VEILED THREATS delivered in a polite and casual tone. it's all "the courvoisier here is excellent, i quite recommend it," and lune is like, "i heard about that debacle at your charity function, what a shame."

and uther is like, "yes, it was unfortunate but nothing we couldn't handle." he smiles an unctuous smile and continues, "we can handle quite a lot, as you know."

and then lune lets his voice go ice cold and adds, "oh, yes, my sons did say the police did get there very quickly to dispose of those mobsters that somehow found their way in. why, if cor and corin hadn't been there, i don't know what would have happened."

"good lads, your boys," says uther. "it's the straight and narrow for them, is it? i did hear rumors that they fell were involved in a sordid business involving the patrisos and some conmen from out of state, but i thought heavens no, not lune's boys."

"i raised my boys right, uther, you know me."

"yes," says uther. "i rather do."

everyone knows about lune archenland. mining fortune in south america, wife dead in childbirth, attempted kidnapping of both his infant sons by political opponents.

attempted kidnapping of both. actual kidnapping of one.

there are a lot of things lune's involved in, but he gave up mining and picked up charity, and that's probably the reason. but everyone says that even he never expected to see cor again. his son corin was a coddled child, spoiled rotten -- and who wouldn't be, given the circumstances? -- but trained within an inch of his life in self-defense.

lune, instead of retiring quietly as a lot of people expected, put himself in the spotlight. for a while there, you couldn't open a newspaper or turn on a tv without hearing something about lune or his company or one of its subsidiaries. he went head to head with some of the greats in business: uther pendragon, lionel luthor, warren worthington, caspian and then miraz telmar, and walked away every time. not always successfully, but he never gave in, never lost his company, and his money grew and grew and grew. corin's going to inherit a hell of a lot, people said, if lune doesn't lose it all somewhere.

and then the calormen consortium started sniffing around.

do you want to get in on this (http://bedlamsbard.livejournal.com/417948.html?thread=3536284#t3536284)? because i'm nervous about touching the archenland lot.

They're scouting.

This is the part of the job that they usually don't do; Peter and Susan are better at looking elegant and at home in this sort of thing, but they're fighting again, and so Peter and Susan are scouting in the club Edmund and Lucy would usually be at. It's punishment for Susan: they're at a strip club. (Given Peter's tastes, it's probably not all that much fun for him, either, except to watch Susan's reactions. Unless he's actually got her dolled up like a stripper, and wow, that's somewhere Edmund's not going right now.)

"That's the fifth drink he's had tonight," Lucy murmurs to Edmund, taking small, carefully-spaced out sips of her own martini. "Do you think -- maybe we're making this too complicated, if we just do a little pickpocketing in the elevator --"

Edmund chews on his lip. Plan says just to do recon tonight and get the keycard later, but if he is drinking like this right now, it'll speed things up to get the keycard now, and the mark will be drunk enough not to realize he's been robbed of his keycard rather than just losing it somewhere.

"Let's try that," he says.

Three drinks later, the mark is on his way into the elevator; Edmund and Lucy leave a minute or so after he does and play the part of a mostly-drunk couple, laughing and a little too handsy, crowding into the elevator at the last moment and forcing the mark into the corner. Lucy's fingers slip into his pocket and out again before he knows it and she goes back to kissing Edmund's neck and playing with the buttons on his shirt.

They get out on the third floor, stumbling and nearly tripping, and the mark grins and says, "Y'all have a good night now," and Lucy says, "Oh, we will," and pulls Edmund down into a kiss.

They step away from each other as soon as the doors close and take the stairs down to the ground floor and out, back to their own hotel.

"That went well!" Lucy says brightly. "Now let's get sushi, I'm starving."

i totally want to. god i miss this 'verse.

dooooo iiiiiitttt.

Corin asks, "Do you want to play Street Fighter?"

"No," says Aravis, so Cor shakes his head too.

"Do you want to go swimming?"

"No," Aravis says again.

Corin turns to his brother. (A brother. Geez, that's weird.) "Cor?"

But Cor says no too, of course.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" Corin asks. "We have tons of movies."

"Which movies?" Cor asks, but Aravis glares at him until he says, "Um." So Corin figures that is probably another no.

There's only so much that Corin can do. His father had told him, "Take care of your new brother and sister for me, son. Be good to them." And far be it from Corin to disobey his father (except when he wants to), but Corin can't take care of them if they don't want to be taken care of. Right? Besides, he wants to play Street Fighter, then after that he's going to go swimming in their huge pool, and after that he's going to make Lita cook him some food so he can eat it while he watches Ace Ventura.

"I guess you can just call Lita if you want anything," Corin says.

"We'll be fine," Aravis says, sounding like she has a stick up her butt. Whatever. Maybe she'll be funner later.

Cor reaches out and takes Aravis's hand, and Corin almost makes a face and almost says, "Is she your girlfriend or something?" But he remembers his father's orders. He'll be good today.

"See ya," Corin says, and leaves.

After all, General Bison waits for no man.

+

Lune's house is big, like a castle. All the houses in Dasmarinas are like castles, and the streets are wide and clean. He feels like a jerk when he misses Mindanao -- because who can miss the middle of nowhere when you've got servants and a mansion in the capital city? -- but he can't help it sometimes: the bluer sky, the sea, the winding mountain roads, the muezzin singing the adzan five times a day, and the simple life he thought he'd inherit one day. He knows those things. He knows nothing in Manila, nothing but Aravis.

"Do you think my father is a good man?" Cor asks her one time. They are in her bedroom, which is approximately the size of his old shack. She's reading on her bed, and he's sitting by the window, watching his brother splash around in the pool below.

"Yeah," Aravis replies, turning the page. "He's letting us live in his house, and he bought us new clothes, and we can do whatever we want until summer ends and school starts. And I don't have to have that arranged marriage anymore. He's pretty good." She looks up at him. "Why?"

Cor shifts uncomfortably. "It's just.. I don't know. I heard him talking on the phone? I think he's a thief. Or he knows thieves, or something."

"That doesn't mean anything, except that you're a snoop."

"But-"

"It doesn't mean that he's not a good guy," Aravis says, "even if he is a thief."

"Thieves are bad guys," he says, but he is less sure now. His life had been completely flipped around these past few months, so uncertainty is familiar territory by now. He's gained more than he's lost, sure, but sometimes he feels like a little bag being filled with too many things. "Do you ever miss your home?" asks Cor.

Aravis shrugs. The sadness crosses her face just for a flicker of a second, just for a moment, but Cor has wised up to her pride games. He gets up from the window-seat and crawls onto the bed. Aravis moves to make room for him, and he lies next to her, watching her eyes flicker across the page as she reads. Cor doesn't know what to say, so he says something stupid like, "Well, at least we're good guys," which makes Aravis smile and call him an idiot, so that's good enough for him.

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just trascribing comments

so. backstory.

consolidating fic

Re: consolidating fic

Re: consolidating fic

more consolidation: CorAravisCorin backstory