[ CLOSED ]

[revlon]

Who: Peggy Carter (revlon) & Edmund Pevensie (exonerated)
What: A spy and a king catch another spy.
When: Backdated to late-August, evening.
Where: Olympia.
Warning(s): N/A

[ So, about a week ago, Agent Carter was both recruited into the Royal Guard and given her first assignment from Ashti. She'd expected something mundane, more along the lines of her patrol route than anything else. She thought, even with serving under a woman, that she'd have to work her way up the ladder all over again. She hadn't disclosed her war record as an intelligence operative but she'd proven her excellent marksmanship and admitted to some combat experience. So to receive word that she was to capture (or kill) a Wyver spy responsible for an attack in one of the outlying colonies... Well.

"Pleased" doesn't begin to cover it.

The mission, as it happens, proved to be a little more difficult than she'd initially thought. She had some information to work off of, but not much. No photograph; more a rough sketch. But Peggy knew her target was lurking on the outskirts of the city — and she had no intention of letting the other woman get in. She'd asked around, followed leads on any suspicious or unusual activity, listened and waited. It wasn't long before her efforts yielded some results and she encountered the bomber outside a pub. She'd been warned that she would fight to the death to evade capture and that much proved true; Peggy had been jumped first (perhaps she'd been made or someone told on her, damn) and in the ensuing fistfight, the spy got away. But as she given chase, she'd — literally — run into Edmund Pevensie: at this point secrecy and discretion didn't much matter, and she'd asked for his help.

Long story short, they'd caught the woman just inside the city limits and brought her to the Royal Guard roughed up but alive. Better, in Peggy's opinion, for questioning.

It's terribly late when they're dismissed. By now, the hit Peggy took to the jaw has bloomed into an impressive bruise and, more importantly, she's ravenous. She adjusts the rifle strap over her shoulder as they walk the quiet Olympian streets and she glances at the young man alongside her. ]

Well, that was quite the adventure, [ Peggy finally says, voice warm and amused. ] Let me buy you dinner, as a thank you. It's the least I can do.

Comments

IM SO LATE

[exonerated]

[ As with many things that's happened in Edmund's life, his meeting with Peggy started as happenstance. While he usually patrols around the Institute, as is the instruction of the superiors in the Guard, sometimes they get days where they are asked to patrol outside of their usual zones — to change things up, or something like that. It was a routine patrol, at first, no real threat, if drunkards and lowly miscreants don't count — until two individuals literally bump into him. One of them happens to be Peggy.

Circumstances changed rather quickly after that.

The fight was a mess, so to speak, though no one but the spy was seriously injured — and even then, she would live, to be thoroughly questioned for her misdeeds. Edmund now suffers from bruised ribs and a slightly pained crotch from the time the spy had the bright idea to kick him where the sun doesn't shine (always the surefire way to stop a male pursuer in his tracks, to be fair) — though he'd argue that he's fine, now, and he's had worse before. ]

You certainly know how to make my life dubiously exciting. [ Edmund laughs, a little out of breath with how tired he is after just a long chase. ] Though I wouldn't say no to dinner.

I'M EVEN LATER

[revlon]

[ She laughs, an echo of his, and no less genuine for its brevity. It makes her ache somewhere when she does it, but she's no stranger to the protestations of her body after a mission. Especially one like what they just wrapped up. ]

"Dubiously exciting"? [ Peggy repeats, slanting her gaze askance. ] Everything we've done up until this point has been rather tame, don't you think?

[ Although her definition of "tame" may differ from his. All in all, she's done far more strenuous tasks, although the difficulty of navigating this assignment from the beginning was a touch frustrating. But she supposes the year-long chase for Dottie Underwood prepared her well for tracking an enemy spy here, foreign territory or not. Whatever the case, the cat's rather out of the bag with Edmund. Not that she was masquerading as something so mundane as a secretary for a telephone company, not in Olympia, but she had been keeping rather a low profile on what exactly she's capable of.

She's sure he has questions. But first, dinner. She means for him to pick the place. ]

[exonerated]

[ He voices it, too. ]

I get the feeling that your definition of 'tame' is different from mine, Ms Carter. [ He smiles at her, eyebrows raised. He did think that there was something more to her than meets the eye, and this situation that they've ended up does answer some questions that he hadn't thought to ask. However, it also brought out more inquiries that need some sort of resolution, though he's patient enough not to force the issue. He would also want to make it clear to Peggy, first of all, that she is free to decline answering anything she doesn't wish to tell him, and that's something that's easier to talk about in a quiet, intimate place like a restaurant filled with unassuming people minding their own business. ] Though before I question that, we should get going, perhaps. I have a place in mind.

[ Just a small, hole-in-the-wall type of restaurant that's homey, with a delicious menu. He hasn't gone there often, but he tried it once and loved it. A special occasion type of place. ]

[revlon]

Lead the way, Mr Pevensie. [ Teasingly, ] I'm just the money, after all.

[ She's sure their friendship means more than that now. It's nice, really, to be certain of something like that. She doesn't often make fast friends but many of them were thrown together by circumstances of the most dire sort; you're rather inclined to forge a bond after all that. Peggy follows the younger man through the quiet streets; with her rifle at her shoulder and her boots on the cobblestones, she's reminded of other cities, other countries. More rubble, the tang of smoke still in the air. This place is still so peaceful in comparison to the war-torn Europe she remembers, but she can't help but feel something else is brewing.

Countries in peacetime don't have spies with bomb plots sniffing at their doors, after all.

But that's for later musing. They've arrived at the restaurant and it's lovely and quiet, which is just the sort of thing she prefers. Peggy selects a table in the back and, as always, takes the chair with its back to the wall and facing the door. As she peruses the menu, she thinks back to his earlier words and asks in a mild voice, ]

Should I be worried? [ She peers over the top of the menu, her eyes almost smiling. ] You said you were going to question my thoughts on the word "tame."

[exonerated]

Should you? [ He teases her, as he pours the steeped tea they initially ordered the moment they were seated. ] If I ask, will you answer at all?

[ The truth is, she doesn't need to be worried, not really. Edmund prides himself now on being a good judge of character now, and she'd been nothing but a friend. Vague at times, but they all have their secrets that they don't wish to share, and Edmund remembers far better the moments when she shared something about herself than the times when she did not.

Still, Edmund has dealt with spies. Narnia has had no real need for one since the defeat of the Witch, but he always listens to a good chatter if it comes his way. And counties have their men, loyal to their country, bound to secrecy and subtlety even in peacetime. ]

[revlon]

It can be argued that not answering is still an answer.

[ Silence can be just as telling, if it's read right. There's the trick of leaving a pen on the interrogation table to see what the other person will do with it — to sign a confession or a deal, to use it as a weapon, or to not use it at all. Peggy's gaze lingers on the roast beef on the menu, thinking of the appetite she's worked up in today's chase, and knows that Edmund is being quite diplomatic about this whole thing. The mission they completed together surely ties into what he already knows of her history with the war.

He's a clever man and she saw that right off the bat. She won't do him the disservice of ignoring that. ]

But seeing as we're colleagues as well as friends, I think you deserve a little more than that.

[exonerated]

[ He'd skimmed the menu quickly, but shuts it quietly after she's spoken. He has a favorite already — steak, of course — and never really needed the menu to begin with. ]

What I deserve to hear from you is not up to me. Everyone holds their fair share of secrets, I suppose some more than others. [ An acknowledgement — and a hint, vague enough that he glosses past it casually and move on to the next. Edmund tries not to dwell on his own secrets too much — it's not as glamorous as being a spy. After all, traitors my mend, but they are still considered traitors one way or another — Edmund is humble and shamed enough to accept that. ] I try not to do others the disservice of making them feel as though they should have held my feelings into more account than their own. Especially not someone that I've known only for a short while.

[ Being so self-absorbed is past his style now, honestly. ]

You can tell me anything you wish to, Ms Carter, and I will listen. [ Edmund smiles, sunny and sincere with it. He is touched that she would even consider to tell him anything, when she'd been cagey over a lot of things to begin with (as is the norm when meeting a stranger). ] Though I will say, that whoever taught you how to fight taught you well, and you learned well.

[revlon]

[ He's not much younger than her but the way he speaks rings of someone older and wiser. She's noticed it before but it stands out even more now — the diplomacy, the sincerity. A man who inspires confidence and confidants, it seems, and trust above all. She smiles quietly at the compliment, inclining her head, but there are other things weighing on her mind now. ]

Thank you. I had an older brother, you'll recall, and he taught me a trick or two. We were competitive children.

[ And the profession she dove into during the war even more so. Failure was not an option, only because failure so often meant death — not only for yourself as an operative in enemy territory, but the soldiers you let down. ]

The thing is, Edmund, [ she continues after a sip of tea, ] I don't know if there's much to tell. I know you worked out most of it when we first met: you had asked me if I helped soldiers during the war and you weren't wrong. I did my bit — and I certainly wasn't the first or only woman to do so in Britain. So that isn't too much of a mystery; but do you know what is?

[ She sets her drink aside, studying him quietly. ]

I don't actually know what you did before waking up here.

she fucking had to ask!!!

[exonerated]

[ Edmund draws himself up from a half-hearted slouch, almost reflexively. He folds his hands together on the table, a faint smile on his face visible if looked on closely.

It has never occurred to Edmund to lie. From the moment he'd woken up from his pod, he'd spoken to other nothing but the truth about his origins, two worlds colliding to a third in a way thay might become confusing to others who haven't wrapped their head around the concept of several universes existing simultaneously. But he hasn't been as forthcoming, and she is right to point it out -- he'd assessed his situation and decided to reveal more of himself slowly, to different people. His stories are disjointed, almost lole he's speaking about two different things, but it all connects. Someone just has to have all the pieces of the story.

He doesn't lie. Peggy asks, Edmund answers -- ] I'm King Edmund of Narnia, so called the Just. Duke of the Lanterne Waste. Count of the Western March. Knight of the Order of the Table. I am the lord judge of Narnian laws and trusted advisor of my brother, the High King Peter.

[ He raises his eyebrows. And, as luck would have it, their server has just arrived. ]

YES SHE DID

[revlon]

[ Never in a million years would she have guessed that. She might have guessed he came from some well to-do family, maybe nobility, but that isn't so unusual in England. But she wouldn't have thought a king and somehow that's more of a surprise to her than what he's told her about Narnia so far, if only because the thought of portals being ripped through time and space isn't so unusual to her. (She's got her work to thank for that.) Peggy straightens the second he starts speaking, her usually composed expression slipping into open surprise; her lips part like she might say something, but then —

But then someone turns up to take their order and she's left utterly taken aback for the second time in as many seconds. She blinks, shakes her head, quickly places her order (roast beef after all, loads of potatoes; she doesn't pay much attention to it) and turns her attention back to Edmund. She drops her voice, leaning in across the table. ]

I knew there was something about you, I just couldn't place what. [ She smiles, helpless, incredulous. ] Why didn't you tell me?