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Entry tags:
August [OPT23]
Title: That blessed arrangement
Fandom: Temeraire
Characters/Ship: Laurence/Tharkay, Granby/Little, Laurence & Temeraire & Tharkay
Word count: ~5k words
Summary: In a post-war AU where the crew didn't meet Tharkay during the war, Granby finds himself both a victim and a perpetrator of matchmaking. Little is very onboard with this.
Notes: The prompts for August: au of your choice | time travel | meet cute/blind date | “you’re the only one i could turn to for help” | storm | vampire/werewolf/dc vs vampires au. Title taken from Princess Bride.
"Listen," said Granby, setting down his fork and carefully balancing it against his plate, only to watch it slide off and clatter its way off the table. Granby and Tharkay both stared down at it. "I'll grab that in a moment," said Granby, rallying himself. "What I mean to say is, this was a mistake. See, the thing is, well…"
The thing was, for all his life, being in a relationship with another man was a crime. He could hardly tell his family about his preferences and implicate them, could he? Even in the coverts, he had to be careful. But now, after the war, dragons had the political leverage to make demands, and the old sodomy laws had been abolished. But he didn't find that out right away, did he? Mail tended to come in batches when stationed abroad, so the little newspaper clippings informing him of the new laws from friends in the Corps came to him wrapped in the same twine as the letter from him aunt, who wrote to tell him that (now that such things were legal) she had met such a charming young man—and rich!!!—who she thought would do very well for her little Johnny. Only, see, her little Johnny—er, Granby, that is, he was already in a relationship, you see, but he couldn't tell his aunt about that before the laws had changed. For her protection, right?
"Thank you for this interesting context," said Tharkay. "But I only agreed to this meeting in the hopes of meeting your dragon. I almost didn't let you in when I saw you came by carriage."
"Oh, thank god," gasped Granby over the sigh of their chaperone. And that was another thing—chaperones? What did they do? Granby knew they were supposed to be there in case an unmarried couple got frisky, but then what? Did they watch? "You're absolutely right, she's much more impressive than I am. I wasn't sure how you'd feel about her landing in your flower beds and eating all your cows and burning down all your trees, so I had her drop me off in the village."
"Is her control of her fire breath so uncertain?"
"Oh, no, not at all,” Granby laughed. “She just gets nervous sometimes. A bit shy, you know." He waved his hand dismissively.
"Ah."
"And when she's nervous, she gets angry."
Tharkay's eyebrows went up.
"And when she's angry, she then intentionally starts everything on fire."
"I see your predicament," said Tharkay thoughtfully. "If you are ready to pick up your fork, Mr Granby, perhaps you'd care for a tour of my least favourite gardens?"
Granby laughed. "Well, why not?"
Once Granby was reassured that he wouldn't find himself in a marriage trap, he found Tharkay to be a surprisingly amicable companion. He was quiet and reserved enough to be nearly rude, even if one were to discount his habit of speaking in rhetorical ironies, but if Granby could get accustomed to Laurence and his obsession with his neckcloth, he could get used to anything. And Tharkay was funny, and though he was not always perfectly polite, there was a kindness to him.
"And if you're so interested in dragons," said Granby carelessly as he was just about to leave, "why not come visit the covert?"
For a moment, it almost seemed that Tharkay would climb right into Granby's carriage with him, but the man only said, "I consider that an invitation, Granby, and it is one I shall accept with alacrity."
"How was he?" asked Iskierka on the flight home. "Was he even more awful than we expected?"
"No, I think I rather like him," said Granby, still surprised at this revelation.
"Will you add him to your harem?" asked Iskierka with a great deal of interest.
"No," said Granby firmly. Convincing Iskierka that he didn't want a harem was still a work in progress. "Actually, I was thinking of introducing him to Laurence." Even after years in the Corps, Laurence struggled with the different social expectations and interactions, but he was often unwelcome in polite society for having committed the crime of being captain to a dragon (and also the crime of treason). It would do him a great deal of good, Granby felt, to have a friend he could go be posh with.
"To Laurence?" asked Iskierka dubiously. But she didn't ask any further questions, instead turning the topic to a detailed, second-by-second depiction of what her day had looked like without him, and so it never occurred to Granby to wonder what, precisely, she had taken from that comment.
The day Tharkay was due to arrive to visit the Loch Laggan covert was cold and dreary, with all signs pointing to a long night of storms ahead.
This was unfortunate not only because it might delay Tharkay’s visit, but also because Granby had written to Laurence to come visit from where he was lounging around in his family home, and Laurence and Temeraire might not be able to fly through the storm, either.
Iskierka snorted at these concerns, causing some of the long grasses surrounding the new covert pavilion to burst aflame despite the damp. “Perhaps Temeraire will find it hard to fly in these winds, but I certainly wouldn’t. It would be just like him to use this as an excuse to avoid seeing me. And after I added such an important message to him in your letter.”
Iskierka had, indeed, dictated an addendum to his letter, though he hadn’t the faintest idea what it was supposed to mean. He had assumed it was something related to their typical competitive heckling, though he wouldn’t personally term that as an “important message.”
“Absolutely dreadful of him,” he agreed vaguely, stroking her forearm soothingly.
And really, it hardly mattered if one of both of his friends were late—even if their visits didn’t end up aligning at all, he would still be able to see them both. He had been looking forward to introducing them, though, as the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to him that each was exactly the sort of friend the other most needed.
He went through the motions of his day, and when no visitors arrived by air or carriage, he sighed and went to bed early. Both parties had probably found a place to stop along the way to avoid the worst of the storms, so it was unfortunately likely that they’d roll in an hour past dawn, as fresh as daisies.
He needn’t have bothered.
Yanking on a uniform coat over his sleepwear, racing out into a raging tempest to join in a search and rescue attempt—all part of a night’s work for an aviator.
Three separate bridges had collapsed in the winds, but that would be a matter to deal with on the morrow. Of more immediate concern, they had reports of flooding all along the River Spean, and with the rain still pounding down, they were desperately needed to help with the evacuation.
Hours later, Granby was covered in mud and wading through the mainstreet of another small village when he ran into some familiar faces.
Too many familiar faces. A strange number of familiar faces that were not supposed to be combined together.
“John,” said Little, smiling through his exhaustion as he drew closer to Granby. Tharkay followed behind him at a sedate pace, mud-streaked and soaking but somehow giving off the impression of taking a casual stroll about the village green. Laurence was on Little’s other side, wearing that concerning, solemn expression that tended to be accompanied by poorly planned acts of self-sacrifice. “There you are. We’ve issued the all-clear, and Iskierka’s about to burn the whole place down if you don’t get back to her.”
Granby blinked at him, disorientated. “You’re not supposed to be here. You’re supposed to be in—whatsit. Istanbul or Paris or something.”
Tharkay raised his eyebrows. “I understand your confusion,” he said. “They’re very similar places. Practically indistinguishable from one another.”
Laurence shot Tharkay an irritated look—what, no, no, they’re supposed to be friends!—but Granby ignored both Laurence and Tharkay, focussed for the moment on more pressing concerns. “No, you can’t be here,” he said to Little. “I’ve got it all planned out. When you show up, I’m going to be all dressed up and starched, and you’ll be all impressed and awed and suchlike at my elegance and commanding—er—prowess, I suppose, and you’ll decide that I’m not a lazy uncouth arse after all and—”
“What?” demanded Laurence, fury painting his cheeks pale. “Who said that about you?”
“Well,” said Tharkay dubiously, “You’re not all that lazy, anyway. Probably.”
Laurence scowled at him.
“—You’ll want to whisk me away immediately and marry me, because now that it’s legal, you’ve realised that I’m husband material,” Granby finished, still looking at what had better be an exhaustion-induced hallucination of Little, or else he might just die of embarrassment when lucidity reminds him how to feel shame.
The hallucination of Little was smiling at him, anyway, all soft and lovely the way he sometimes did deep in the night, when they were wrapped in each other’s arms. “I look forward to it,” he said. “Though I think you look pretty good as you are right now, honestly.”
“I’m going to wretch,” said Tharkay.
“You’re so sweet,” said Granby, falling into Little’s arms. He felt very solid and very not-imagined.
“Congratulations,” said Laurence awkwardly. When Granby turned his forehead further into Little’s neck and peered over at Laurence, he was staring determinedly at a point just past them, standing at full attention like the twat he was. “Perhaps we should head back to the rendezvous point?”
“If we must,” said Tharkay. “I was personally looking forward to the promised inferno.”
“Bugger,” said Granby. He pushed away from Little with a sigh. “Let’s go find our dragons, then.”
“Granby!” Iskierka was calling. “Granby!”
Granby felt a twinge of guilt. As irritating as Iskierka’s clinginess could be, the distress in her voice now was genuine, and it was hardly uncalled for given the disaster of the night.
“I’m here!” he croaked out, but it was enough for Iskierka’s massive head to turn, and she came barrelling over to him, ignoring the other humans surrounding him.
“Granby, Granby,” she crooned, winding her coils around him.
Little gave Granby a little wave as he dodged out of the way and trotted over to Immortalis.
Laurence stayed near, and it took a moment for Granby to realise that this was because Temeraire had followed along behind Iskierka and was now piling on to inspect the health of his own captain.
Granby had nearly forgotten about the last member of their party when Temeraire said in startled tone, “Is that you, Tharkay? Whatever are you doing here?”
“Hello, Temeraire,” said Tharkay softly.
“Have you met?” asked Granby. “How did that happen? When?”
Tharkay didn’t even look at him when he answered. “During the French occupation. I happened upon Temeraire and his group of captainless dragons.”
“Of course he’s here!” said Iskierka imperiously. “My Granby invited him for your captain. Didn’t you read my message?”
Irritation rippled down Temeraire’s body in a flex of muscles. “You certainly could have been more specific. I thought you had chosen some awful nobleman who would be unreasonable about perfectly normal things, like pavilions and cows.” He settled himself and nodded to Tharkay graciously. “But of course, if it’s Tharkay, it’s alright.”
Tharkay gave Temeraire a little bow. “I’m delighted to meet with your approbation,” he said, somehow managing to convey both sincerity and sarcasm simultaneously. “But, if I may be so bold as to ask, what have I been volunteered for?”
“You will be in Laurence’s harem,” said Iskierka.
Laurence choked.
“There is no harem!” said Granby automatically. And then, “Wait, what?”
“Granby was going to introduce you properly, but then you were both very late, so you have only yourselves to blame for the lack of gold braid,” Iskierka continued sternly.
Temeraire sighed. “It’s very unfortunate,” he agreed. “We shall simply have to make a better go of it tomorrow.”
“My dear,” said Laurence, flushed red. “I’m not—that is to say—”
“You needn’t be nervous, Laurence,” said Temeraire kindly. “We’ll get it all worked out later.” He turned to Iskierka, speaking over the humans’ heads. “We had better get them back to the covert before they take ill. Tharkay, you shall ride with me.”
There seemed little to do but agree.
Laurence and Tharkay were already in the baths when Granby arrived, seated silently with the water nearly up to their chins and looking anywhere but at one another.
“For the record,” said Granby as he joined them. “I had just been planning to introduce you two so that you could go be weird posh friends. I wasn’t going to publish your names in the banns or anything.”
Tharkay hummed noncommittally. “Truly a missed opportunity.”
Laurence finally looked at Tharkay, but it was only to shoot him a genteel sort of glare. “Do you respect nothing? Do you take nothing seriously?” he asked.
Tharkay smiled humourlessly. “I take everything seriously.”
“That is most obviously a lie, sir,” said Laurence coldly.
“Is it?” Tharkay turned to face Laurence, and—
—And Granby was fully committed to Little, but watching two very handsome, naked men staring each other down, their faces flushed, beads of sweat clinging to their foreheads and dripping down their necks… It was a little, well… He was starting to lose track of what the conversation was about, that’s all.
“You may be an amalgamation of ever bigoted, well-bred bully I ever suffered in school or after,” Tharkay was saying, “but I think I could put up with even you if it meant I got Temeraire in the deal. How he puts up with you, I shan’t speculate.”
“Damn,” whispered Little into Granby’s ear as he came up behind him.
“Yeah,” agreed Granby, pecking a kiss to Little’s temple and turning back to the show.
“However undeserving I may be of Temeraire, he chose me,” snapped Laurence.
Tharkay’s smirk was all challenge, and Granby shivered as Little exhaled sharply. “He chose you, yes. And if he chooses me as well? What will you do then, Captain?”
“Of course I would never interfere with Temeraire’s friendships!” said Laurence, clearly offended. Tharkay seemed surprised at this statement as only those who had never met Laurence and his intricate honour-code ever could be. “But I expect some basic attempt at decorum nevertheless.”
“To what end? You would have me treat you as an English gentleman even while you sneer at my mother—”
“If I have so offended your mother, I dearly apologise, though I’m quite certain I’ve never met nor spoken of her,” said Laurence, rearing back.
“I think he means because she’s from Nepal, and a lot of Britons get pissy at that,” interjected Granby helpfully.
Little tsked in his ear. “What are you doing,” he whispered. “They might have startled wrestling.”
Laurence pulled himself together with great effort and said stiffly, “I am sorry that she had to suffer that.”
“So am I,” said Tharkay, and they were silent until they all departed for bed.
Morning dawned, and Granby rolled over in Little’s arms and determinedly ignored it. When he finally lurched out of bed—now cold and empty—and down to the mess hall for the midday meal, he was feeling very nearly human.
Little was already there, and he stood up when he saw Granby come in. “I am so impressed and in awe of your elegant starchiness,” he said very earnestly, and Granby gave him a shove, face red.
Little laughed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, following him as he gathered a tray and food and headed for Little’s table. Little’s own tray was already nearly empty, but he stayed with Granby, their thighs pressing together on the bench, and they began the long process of catching up on all they’d missed while away on their separate assignments.
Tharkay joined them soon after, with Laurence following along at his side. “Good afternoon,” he greeted. To Little, he asked, “Have you realised that he’s husband material yet?”
Granby scowled, but Little grinned. “Oh, I always knew that,” he said, smiling over at Granby, who blushed. “What about you two? You’ve been off with Temeraire all morning, haven’t you? How far has he gotten with the wedding plans?”
“Distressingly far,” sighed Laurence.
Tharkay glanced at Laurence sidelong. “I think my suggestion that we incorporate a mix of traditions from all our different heritages will cause him some delay. Not in the least because he’ll have trouble finding anything on Nepal in any bookstore here.”
Laurence was nodding along with some appreciation at this resourcefulness when Tharkay added, faux thoughtfully, “Unless, of course, he manages to draw my mother onto his side.”
Laurence deflated. “I don’t suppose your mother has any fear of dragons?”
Tharkay smirked at him. “Not in the least.”
“She’ll love him,” said Laurence mournfully.
“Yes,” said Tharkay. “She certainly will.”
The table was quiet for a moment, with Laurence processing this information, and Little and Granby not wanting to interrupt the entertainment.
Finally, Laurence cleared his throat. “She’ll love Temeraire,” he repeated. “But what sort of spouse did she imagine for you?”
Tharkay raised his eyebrows. “I’ve no idea at all,” he said. “But I suspect what you’re really asking is what she’ll think of you.”
Laurence did not disagree, and Little and Granby watched in delight as Tharkay studied Laurence’s face thoughtfully. “I am growing increasingly concerned,” said Tharkay at last, “that she might love you, too.”
Little cheered, and Granby elbowed him.
Laurence turned a little pink. “I believe that I am glad to hear that,” he said softly.
Auntie, Granby wrote. I met your Tharkay fellow, and while he’s very nice, I’m afraid he’s been quite snatched up by some bloke (who I hear is a prince in China!). But there is someone else that I’d love for you to meet—
Fandom: Temeraire
Characters/Ship: Laurence/Tharkay, Granby/Little, Laurence & Temeraire & Tharkay
Word count: ~5k words
Summary: In a post-war AU where the crew didn't meet Tharkay during the war, Granby finds himself both a victim and a perpetrator of matchmaking. Little is very onboard with this.
Notes: The prompts for August: au of your choice | time travel | meet cute/blind date | “you’re the only one i could turn to for help” | storm | vampire/werewolf/dc vs vampires au. Title taken from Princess Bride.
"Listen," said Granby, setting down his fork and carefully balancing it against his plate, only to watch it slide off and clatter its way off the table. Granby and Tharkay both stared down at it. "I'll grab that in a moment," said Granby, rallying himself. "What I mean to say is, this was a mistake. See, the thing is, well…"
The thing was, for all his life, being in a relationship with another man was a crime. He could hardly tell his family about his preferences and implicate them, could he? Even in the coverts, he had to be careful. But now, after the war, dragons had the political leverage to make demands, and the old sodomy laws had been abolished. But he didn't find that out right away, did he? Mail tended to come in batches when stationed abroad, so the little newspaper clippings informing him of the new laws from friends in the Corps came to him wrapped in the same twine as the letter from him aunt, who wrote to tell him that (now that such things were legal) she had met such a charming young man—and rich!!!—who she thought would do very well for her little Johnny. Only, see, her little Johnny—er, Granby, that is, he was already in a relationship, you see, but he couldn't tell his aunt about that before the laws had changed. For her protection, right?
"Thank you for this interesting context," said Tharkay. "But I only agreed to this meeting in the hopes of meeting your dragon. I almost didn't let you in when I saw you came by carriage."
"Oh, thank god," gasped Granby over the sigh of their chaperone. And that was another thing—chaperones? What did they do? Granby knew they were supposed to be there in case an unmarried couple got frisky, but then what? Did they watch? "You're absolutely right, she's much more impressive than I am. I wasn't sure how you'd feel about her landing in your flower beds and eating all your cows and burning down all your trees, so I had her drop me off in the village."
"Is her control of her fire breath so uncertain?"
"Oh, no, not at all,” Granby laughed. “She just gets nervous sometimes. A bit shy, you know." He waved his hand dismissively.
"Ah."
"And when she's nervous, she gets angry."
Tharkay's eyebrows went up.
"And when she's angry, she then intentionally starts everything on fire."
"I see your predicament," said Tharkay thoughtfully. "If you are ready to pick up your fork, Mr Granby, perhaps you'd care for a tour of my least favourite gardens?"
Granby laughed. "Well, why not?"
Once Granby was reassured that he wouldn't find himself in a marriage trap, he found Tharkay to be a surprisingly amicable companion. He was quiet and reserved enough to be nearly rude, even if one were to discount his habit of speaking in rhetorical ironies, but if Granby could get accustomed to Laurence and his obsession with his neckcloth, he could get used to anything. And Tharkay was funny, and though he was not always perfectly polite, there was a kindness to him.
"And if you're so interested in dragons," said Granby carelessly as he was just about to leave, "why not come visit the covert?"
For a moment, it almost seemed that Tharkay would climb right into Granby's carriage with him, but the man only said, "I consider that an invitation, Granby, and it is one I shall accept with alacrity."
"How was he?" asked Iskierka on the flight home. "Was he even more awful than we expected?"
"No, I think I rather like him," said Granby, still surprised at this revelation.
"Will you add him to your harem?" asked Iskierka with a great deal of interest.
"No," said Granby firmly. Convincing Iskierka that he didn't want a harem was still a work in progress. "Actually, I was thinking of introducing him to Laurence." Even after years in the Corps, Laurence struggled with the different social expectations and interactions, but he was often unwelcome in polite society for having committed the crime of being captain to a dragon (and also the crime of treason). It would do him a great deal of good, Granby felt, to have a friend he could go be posh with.
"To Laurence?" asked Iskierka dubiously. But she didn't ask any further questions, instead turning the topic to a detailed, second-by-second depiction of what her day had looked like without him, and so it never occurred to Granby to wonder what, precisely, she had taken from that comment.
The day Tharkay was due to arrive to visit the Loch Laggan covert was cold and dreary, with all signs pointing to a long night of storms ahead.
This was unfortunate not only because it might delay Tharkay’s visit, but also because Granby had written to Laurence to come visit from where he was lounging around in his family home, and Laurence and Temeraire might not be able to fly through the storm, either.
Iskierka snorted at these concerns, causing some of the long grasses surrounding the new covert pavilion to burst aflame despite the damp. “Perhaps Temeraire will find it hard to fly in these winds, but I certainly wouldn’t. It would be just like him to use this as an excuse to avoid seeing me. And after I added such an important message to him in your letter.”
Iskierka had, indeed, dictated an addendum to his letter, though he hadn’t the faintest idea what it was supposed to mean. He had assumed it was something related to their typical competitive heckling, though he wouldn’t personally term that as an “important message.”
“Absolutely dreadful of him,” he agreed vaguely, stroking her forearm soothingly.
And really, it hardly mattered if one of both of his friends were late—even if their visits didn’t end up aligning at all, he would still be able to see them both. He had been looking forward to introducing them, though, as the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to him that each was exactly the sort of friend the other most needed.
He went through the motions of his day, and when no visitors arrived by air or carriage, he sighed and went to bed early. Both parties had probably found a place to stop along the way to avoid the worst of the storms, so it was unfortunately likely that they’d roll in an hour past dawn, as fresh as daisies.
He needn’t have bothered.
Yanking on a uniform coat over his sleepwear, racing out into a raging tempest to join in a search and rescue attempt—all part of a night’s work for an aviator.
Three separate bridges had collapsed in the winds, but that would be a matter to deal with on the morrow. Of more immediate concern, they had reports of flooding all along the River Spean, and with the rain still pounding down, they were desperately needed to help with the evacuation.
Hours later, Granby was covered in mud and wading through the mainstreet of another small village when he ran into some familiar faces.
Too many familiar faces. A strange number of familiar faces that were not supposed to be combined together.
“John,” said Little, smiling through his exhaustion as he drew closer to Granby. Tharkay followed behind him at a sedate pace, mud-streaked and soaking but somehow giving off the impression of taking a casual stroll about the village green. Laurence was on Little’s other side, wearing that concerning, solemn expression that tended to be accompanied by poorly planned acts of self-sacrifice. “There you are. We’ve issued the all-clear, and Iskierka’s about to burn the whole place down if you don’t get back to her.”
Granby blinked at him, disorientated. “You’re not supposed to be here. You’re supposed to be in—whatsit. Istanbul or Paris or something.”
Tharkay raised his eyebrows. “I understand your confusion,” he said. “They’re very similar places. Practically indistinguishable from one another.”
Laurence shot Tharkay an irritated look—what, no, no, they’re supposed to be friends!—but Granby ignored both Laurence and Tharkay, focussed for the moment on more pressing concerns. “No, you can’t be here,” he said to Little. “I’ve got it all planned out. When you show up, I’m going to be all dressed up and starched, and you’ll be all impressed and awed and suchlike at my elegance and commanding—er—prowess, I suppose, and you’ll decide that I’m not a lazy uncouth arse after all and—”
“What?” demanded Laurence, fury painting his cheeks pale. “Who said that about you?”
“Well,” said Tharkay dubiously, “You’re not all that lazy, anyway. Probably.”
Laurence scowled at him.
“—You’ll want to whisk me away immediately and marry me, because now that it’s legal, you’ve realised that I’m husband material,” Granby finished, still looking at what had better be an exhaustion-induced hallucination of Little, or else he might just die of embarrassment when lucidity reminds him how to feel shame.
The hallucination of Little was smiling at him, anyway, all soft and lovely the way he sometimes did deep in the night, when they were wrapped in each other’s arms. “I look forward to it,” he said. “Though I think you look pretty good as you are right now, honestly.”
“I’m going to wretch,” said Tharkay.
“You’re so sweet,” said Granby, falling into Little’s arms. He felt very solid and very not-imagined.
“Congratulations,” said Laurence awkwardly. When Granby turned his forehead further into Little’s neck and peered over at Laurence, he was staring determinedly at a point just past them, standing at full attention like the twat he was. “Perhaps we should head back to the rendezvous point?”
“If we must,” said Tharkay. “I was personally looking forward to the promised inferno.”
“Bugger,” said Granby. He pushed away from Little with a sigh. “Let’s go find our dragons, then.”
“Granby!” Iskierka was calling. “Granby!”
Granby felt a twinge of guilt. As irritating as Iskierka’s clinginess could be, the distress in her voice now was genuine, and it was hardly uncalled for given the disaster of the night.
“I’m here!” he croaked out, but it was enough for Iskierka’s massive head to turn, and she came barrelling over to him, ignoring the other humans surrounding him.
“Granby, Granby,” she crooned, winding her coils around him.
Little gave Granby a little wave as he dodged out of the way and trotted over to Immortalis.
Laurence stayed near, and it took a moment for Granby to realise that this was because Temeraire had followed along behind Iskierka and was now piling on to inspect the health of his own captain.
Granby had nearly forgotten about the last member of their party when Temeraire said in startled tone, “Is that you, Tharkay? Whatever are you doing here?”
“Hello, Temeraire,” said Tharkay softly.
“Have you met?” asked Granby. “How did that happen? When?”
Tharkay didn’t even look at him when he answered. “During the French occupation. I happened upon Temeraire and his group of captainless dragons.”
“Of course he’s here!” said Iskierka imperiously. “My Granby invited him for your captain. Didn’t you read my message?”
Irritation rippled down Temeraire’s body in a flex of muscles. “You certainly could have been more specific. I thought you had chosen some awful nobleman who would be unreasonable about perfectly normal things, like pavilions and cows.” He settled himself and nodded to Tharkay graciously. “But of course, if it’s Tharkay, it’s alright.”
Tharkay gave Temeraire a little bow. “I’m delighted to meet with your approbation,” he said, somehow managing to convey both sincerity and sarcasm simultaneously. “But, if I may be so bold as to ask, what have I been volunteered for?”
“You will be in Laurence’s harem,” said Iskierka.
Laurence choked.
“There is no harem!” said Granby automatically. And then, “Wait, what?”
“Granby was going to introduce you properly, but then you were both very late, so you have only yourselves to blame for the lack of gold braid,” Iskierka continued sternly.
Temeraire sighed. “It’s very unfortunate,” he agreed. “We shall simply have to make a better go of it tomorrow.”
“My dear,” said Laurence, flushed red. “I’m not—that is to say—”
“You needn’t be nervous, Laurence,” said Temeraire kindly. “We’ll get it all worked out later.” He turned to Iskierka, speaking over the humans’ heads. “We had better get them back to the covert before they take ill. Tharkay, you shall ride with me.”
There seemed little to do but agree.
Laurence and Tharkay were already in the baths when Granby arrived, seated silently with the water nearly up to their chins and looking anywhere but at one another.
“For the record,” said Granby as he joined them. “I had just been planning to introduce you two so that you could go be weird posh friends. I wasn’t going to publish your names in the banns or anything.”
Tharkay hummed noncommittally. “Truly a missed opportunity.”
Laurence finally looked at Tharkay, but it was only to shoot him a genteel sort of glare. “Do you respect nothing? Do you take nothing seriously?” he asked.
Tharkay smiled humourlessly. “I take everything seriously.”
“That is most obviously a lie, sir,” said Laurence coldly.
“Is it?” Tharkay turned to face Laurence, and—
—And Granby was fully committed to Little, but watching two very handsome, naked men staring each other down, their faces flushed, beads of sweat clinging to their foreheads and dripping down their necks… It was a little, well… He was starting to lose track of what the conversation was about, that’s all.
“You may be an amalgamation of ever bigoted, well-bred bully I ever suffered in school or after,” Tharkay was saying, “but I think I could put up with even you if it meant I got Temeraire in the deal. How he puts up with you, I shan’t speculate.”
“Damn,” whispered Little into Granby’s ear as he came up behind him.
“Yeah,” agreed Granby, pecking a kiss to Little’s temple and turning back to the show.
“However undeserving I may be of Temeraire, he chose me,” snapped Laurence.
Tharkay’s smirk was all challenge, and Granby shivered as Little exhaled sharply. “He chose you, yes. And if he chooses me as well? What will you do then, Captain?”
“Of course I would never interfere with Temeraire’s friendships!” said Laurence, clearly offended. Tharkay seemed surprised at this statement as only those who had never met Laurence and his intricate honour-code ever could be. “But I expect some basic attempt at decorum nevertheless.”
“To what end? You would have me treat you as an English gentleman even while you sneer at my mother—”
“If I have so offended your mother, I dearly apologise, though I’m quite certain I’ve never met nor spoken of her,” said Laurence, rearing back.
“I think he means because she’s from Nepal, and a lot of Britons get pissy at that,” interjected Granby helpfully.
Little tsked in his ear. “What are you doing,” he whispered. “They might have startled wrestling.”
Laurence pulled himself together with great effort and said stiffly, “I am sorry that she had to suffer that.”
“So am I,” said Tharkay, and they were silent until they all departed for bed.
Morning dawned, and Granby rolled over in Little’s arms and determinedly ignored it. When he finally lurched out of bed—now cold and empty—and down to the mess hall for the midday meal, he was feeling very nearly human.
Little was already there, and he stood up when he saw Granby come in. “I am so impressed and in awe of your elegant starchiness,” he said very earnestly, and Granby gave him a shove, face red.
Little laughed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, following him as he gathered a tray and food and headed for Little’s table. Little’s own tray was already nearly empty, but he stayed with Granby, their thighs pressing together on the bench, and they began the long process of catching up on all they’d missed while away on their separate assignments.
Tharkay joined them soon after, with Laurence following along at his side. “Good afternoon,” he greeted. To Little, he asked, “Have you realised that he’s husband material yet?”
Granby scowled, but Little grinned. “Oh, I always knew that,” he said, smiling over at Granby, who blushed. “What about you two? You’ve been off with Temeraire all morning, haven’t you? How far has he gotten with the wedding plans?”
“Distressingly far,” sighed Laurence.
Tharkay glanced at Laurence sidelong. “I think my suggestion that we incorporate a mix of traditions from all our different heritages will cause him some delay. Not in the least because he’ll have trouble finding anything on Nepal in any bookstore here.”
Laurence was nodding along with some appreciation at this resourcefulness when Tharkay added, faux thoughtfully, “Unless, of course, he manages to draw my mother onto his side.”
Laurence deflated. “I don’t suppose your mother has any fear of dragons?”
Tharkay smirked at him. “Not in the least.”
“She’ll love him,” said Laurence mournfully.
“Yes,” said Tharkay. “She certainly will.”
The table was quiet for a moment, with Laurence processing this information, and Little and Granby not wanting to interrupt the entertainment.
Finally, Laurence cleared his throat. “She’ll love Temeraire,” he repeated. “But what sort of spouse did she imagine for you?”
Tharkay raised his eyebrows. “I’ve no idea at all,” he said. “But I suspect what you’re really asking is what she’ll think of you.”
Laurence did not disagree, and Little and Granby watched in delight as Tharkay studied Laurence’s face thoughtfully. “I am growing increasingly concerned,” said Tharkay at last, “that she might love you, too.”
Little cheered, and Granby elbowed him.
Laurence turned a little pink. “I believe that I am glad to hear that,” he said softly.
Auntie, Granby wrote. I met your Tharkay fellow, and while he’s very nice, I’m afraid he’s been quite snatched up by some bloke (who I hear is a prince in China!). But there is someone else that I’d love for you to meet—