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[temeraire fic] Put to Mind
Title: Put to Mind
Rating: PG
Characters: Chenery, Little
Notes: Just a warm-up ficlet, exploring some character bits. Implied spoilers for Crucible of Gold and takes place during His Majesty's Dragon.
“Well, how about the new fellow with the Imperial?” Chenery asked, peering over his cards with what he likely thought was a sly expression. The subtle waggle of his eyebrows did little to hide his curiosity – or teasing, since Little had known him for far too long to do nothing but lift his eyes heavenward.
“I have told you, it does not work like that,” Little replied, laying down his hand of cards. “Would you pounce on every woman you set your eyes on? I should hope not.”
Chenery let out a laugh, lifting one shoulder in a careless shrug. “Well,” he drawled, considering for a moment, but shook his head. “I am only asking if you find his features handsome. I could tell you as much, in my own opinion, and I am not like you.”
They were sitting in the officer’s club, their conversation lost in the general buzz of the room in the late evening. Even so, habit made Little’s gaze flicker past Chenery before answering. “When you put it as such, then I suppose I will have to agree,” he said, his words coming to an abrupt stop when the man in question entered the room and, after a curious exchange with the lieutenant Granby, went to sit with Rankin at the chess table.
“Ah, that’s a shame,” Chenery said, echoing Little’s thoughts; neither of them held Rankin in high regard. “No wonder Granby acts something terrible around him.”
“Strange. Granby is usually the friendly sort,” Little commented, not meaning anything by it other than innocent observation, but Chenery visibly perked in his seat. Years of friendship had taught the other captain to pick up even the slightest hint of interest in Little’s normally reserved voice. Little almost cringed, meeting Chenery’s gleeful smile with an inaudible yet exasperated sigh. “Chen-“
“No, no, you do not have to explain to me,” Chenery said, and blatantly looked over his shoulder to stare at Granby.
Thankfully, the lieutenant was busy throwing glares in Captain Laurence’s direction to notice, and Chenery was not the only one who was staring; Granby’s acts of insolence was already a spreading piece of gossip among the other officers.
“Well, I would certainly call it a catch, my dear,” Chenery concluded with a nod of approval.
Years of friendship had also immuned Little to Chenery’s constant ribbing. On most occasions Little had found himself wryly playing along, his mood and situation willing, but this particular case hit a little too close to the mark.
“I hardly know the man,” Little said.
“Perhaps you would like to amend that,” Chenery suggested, brazen as usual, but not without the crinkle at the corner of his eyes to show that he meant it in jest. “But is he—?”
Little shrugged; he had no idea. Men like him were not difficult to find, knowing the right places, but actual officers of the same affliction were harder to parse, given that it meant to ruin of their career, if not death already. He was blessed enough to be in Chenery’s confidence, though Chenery was not — not like him at all.
“And even if he were, he hasn’t a dragon either,” Little finished, meaning Granby. The statement put an end to any future speculating, as being a captain offered a certain degree of protection from the law, though the same could not be said for a man’s reputation, which aviators had little besides. He did not like the idea of needlessly endangering a subordinate when there were a few captains that would make the situation on more equal ground.
(Captain Anders, for instance, Little could not help but think back with faint regret. Their last tryst had been weeks ago, but the man and his dragon were recently reassigned to Falmouth, and so that had been the end of that. Perhaps, Little realized, it was why Chenery had been so lately adamant on his behalf, fearing him to be lovelorn.)
“Did Immortalis put you up to this?” Little asked abruptly.
Chenery’s brow rose. “And now why would I need anyone to ‘put me up to it’?”
Little stared, and finally Chenery relented.
“Well, I didn’t need any more encouragement, is what I’m saying,” he said. “But Immortalis may have had a private word with me while you were sulking away that first week.”
Chenery looked so unrepentant that Little could only shake his head, a small smile flitting to the corner of his mouth.
“I apologize; I will try my best to no longer sulk,” he said.
“Oh!” Chenery said, gathering the cards to shuffle and deal them fresh. “That’s nice. Though it seems you have ceased sulking weeks ago. I’ve only been having some fun with you since then, you know.”
And if Little’s foot connected too hard with Chenery’s shin just then, at least both could silently agree that it was wholly deserved.
Rating: PG
Characters: Chenery, Little
Notes: Just a warm-up ficlet, exploring some character bits. Implied spoilers for Crucible of Gold and takes place during His Majesty's Dragon.
“Well, how about the new fellow with the Imperial?” Chenery asked, peering over his cards with what he likely thought was a sly expression. The subtle waggle of his eyebrows did little to hide his curiosity – or teasing, since Little had known him for far too long to do nothing but lift his eyes heavenward.
“I have told you, it does not work like that,” Little replied, laying down his hand of cards. “Would you pounce on every woman you set your eyes on? I should hope not.”
Chenery let out a laugh, lifting one shoulder in a careless shrug. “Well,” he drawled, considering for a moment, but shook his head. “I am only asking if you find his features handsome. I could tell you as much, in my own opinion, and I am not like you.”
They were sitting in the officer’s club, their conversation lost in the general buzz of the room in the late evening. Even so, habit made Little’s gaze flicker past Chenery before answering. “When you put it as such, then I suppose I will have to agree,” he said, his words coming to an abrupt stop when the man in question entered the room and, after a curious exchange with the lieutenant Granby, went to sit with Rankin at the chess table.
“Ah, that’s a shame,” Chenery said, echoing Little’s thoughts; neither of them held Rankin in high regard. “No wonder Granby acts something terrible around him.”
“Strange. Granby is usually the friendly sort,” Little commented, not meaning anything by it other than innocent observation, but Chenery visibly perked in his seat. Years of friendship had taught the other captain to pick up even the slightest hint of interest in Little’s normally reserved voice. Little almost cringed, meeting Chenery’s gleeful smile with an inaudible yet exasperated sigh. “Chen-“
“No, no, you do not have to explain to me,” Chenery said, and blatantly looked over his shoulder to stare at Granby.
Thankfully, the lieutenant was busy throwing glares in Captain Laurence’s direction to notice, and Chenery was not the only one who was staring; Granby’s acts of insolence was already a spreading piece of gossip among the other officers.
“Well, I would certainly call it a catch, my dear,” Chenery concluded with a nod of approval.
Years of friendship had also immuned Little to Chenery’s constant ribbing. On most occasions Little had found himself wryly playing along, his mood and situation willing, but this particular case hit a little too close to the mark.
“I hardly know the man,” Little said.
“Perhaps you would like to amend that,” Chenery suggested, brazen as usual, but not without the crinkle at the corner of his eyes to show that he meant it in jest. “But is he—?”
Little shrugged; he had no idea. Men like him were not difficult to find, knowing the right places, but actual officers of the same affliction were harder to parse, given that it meant to ruin of their career, if not death already. He was blessed enough to be in Chenery’s confidence, though Chenery was not — not like him at all.
“And even if he were, he hasn’t a dragon either,” Little finished, meaning Granby. The statement put an end to any future speculating, as being a captain offered a certain degree of protection from the law, though the same could not be said for a man’s reputation, which aviators had little besides. He did not like the idea of needlessly endangering a subordinate when there were a few captains that would make the situation on more equal ground.
(Captain Anders, for instance, Little could not help but think back with faint regret. Their last tryst had been weeks ago, but the man and his dragon were recently reassigned to Falmouth, and so that had been the end of that. Perhaps, Little realized, it was why Chenery had been so lately adamant on his behalf, fearing him to be lovelorn.)
“Did Immortalis put you up to this?” Little asked abruptly.
Chenery’s brow rose. “And now why would I need anyone to ‘put me up to it’?”
Little stared, and finally Chenery relented.
“Well, I didn’t need any more encouragement, is what I’m saying,” he said. “But Immortalis may have had a private word with me while you were sulking away that first week.”
Chenery looked so unrepentant that Little could only shake his head, a small smile flitting to the corner of his mouth.
“I apologize; I will try my best to no longer sulk,” he said.
“Oh!” Chenery said, gathering the cards to shuffle and deal them fresh. “That’s nice. Though it seems you have ceased sulking weeks ago. I’ve only been having some fun with you since then, you know.”
And if Little’s foot connected too hard with Chenery’s shin just then, at least both could silently agree that it was wholly deserved.
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I enjoyed this story! :)