FIC: Tidings of Glitter and Joy
Nov. 17th, 2011 06:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zaubraFinally, I've managed to write that last fic for my 50-fic party that I've been putting off for weeks. (You can tell just how long by the fact that it was for my 50-fic party, but I'm up to 85 now.) I'm SO sorry, whoever asked for this. I kept meaning to write it, but my muse just wouldn't cooperate! But now here it is, and I hope you enjoy it. <33
Fandom: UK Politics
Title: Tidings of Glitter and Joy
Ship(s): Ed Balls/Ed Miliband
Word Count: 1,051
Rating: PG
Summary: Ed Balls and his Edward, in the aftermath of defeating the evil wizard Peter Bone. A coda to In Another Life. For my 50-fic party at the meme.
Disclaimer: This is a creative work of fiction, composed of fictional characters inspired by the public personas of living people. No injury or disrespect is intended to the persons named. If you've found this by googling yourself or someone you know, stop playing on the Internet and go run the country.
Tidings of Glitter and Joy
Ed would have expected an exploded magician to leave gobbets of magical protoplasm behind.
[If, that is, he’d bothered to think too much about exploding magicians. Generally Ed tried to keep his mind on the more pressing enemies (and their whimpering lapdogs) facing him across the Chamber on a daily basis, rather than the inchoate threat of magicians. Although it was true that lately he’d had to unwillingly divert some of his attention from the sacred task of making George Osborne look like a twat (which admittedly was a task that hardly demanded his full attention to complete) and refocus it on the efforts to keep his Leader from disappearing into other worlds all the time. Yvette’s frequent absences were starting to seriously interfere with Ed’s Five Point Plan To Make George Osborne Bawl Like A Baby.]
Instead of magical protoplasm, exploding magicians apparently turned into a shower of glitter. A shower of dark, sullen, glowering glitter – Ed wasn’t sure how the small pile at his feet was managing to glare at him quite so evilly – but glitter nonetheless.
Ed pushed at the pile of glitter with his foot, trying to make it stop staring at him. Around him, the room was alive with shocked, exultant chatter, as the group of MPs who’d followed Ed’s lead and stormed the Chamber to bring down the evil magicians now faced the aftermath of their defeat.
[Above them, up in the Government backbenches, Philip Davies was swearing, quite creatively and at length, apparently held in some sort of paralysing freeze-ray. Peter Mandelson sat nearby, looking far too pleased with himself, languidly brushing flecks of glitter off his trousers. A few braver souls had begun to approach, although some of them seemed not entirely sure which of the two they should be apprehending.]
Someone put a hand on Ed’s elbow, and he turned. His Edward was blinking at him, looking rather funny. But then, exploding magicians would cause many people to look rather funny, Ed allowed, generously.
Edward had glitter in his hair, and glitter straggling down his face, the dark sparkle of it lighting up his eyes. Ed swallowed. If he didn’t think too closely about the fact that it was Peter Bone glitter, and just thought about it as, well, glitter, the effect was quite striking. The urge to put a hand on Edward’s face and lean in for a kiss built, and Ed had to squash it down quite firmly. The House of Commons Chamber was hardly the place to indulge one’s romantic inclinations. Yvette would have a fit. (Their Yvette, not the one who was lying in a faint on the government frontbench next to a limp Bercow, the both of them being seen to by Liam Fox, of all people.)
[Near Yvette’s head, Chris Bryant hovered worriedly, the Mace slung over his shoulder. Despite being smashed over Bone’s head, the Mace didn’t seem to have the slightest dent. Ed gave it a wary side-eyed glance. Magic still gave him the shivers.]
“Ed.”
Ed emerged from his thoughts, shaking himself slightly. He found himself still holding a table leg, and handed it to Nick Clegg, who had collapsed on the Lib Dem bench (looking much more comfortable there than he ever had in the rarefied air of the Government frontbench). “What?”
[Edward’s throat, swallowing; Edward’s tongue, darting out to touch his lips; Edward’s eyelashes, fluttering down and up again.]
Edward’s smile was nervous. He always had been a bit higher-strung than Ed was himself; the exploding magician had probably nearly given him a heart attack. Ed regarded him with concern.
Edward swallowed again. “You were amazing.”
“Well,” Ed said modestly. “Someone had to rescue Yvette and save Parliament. Oi, watch it!”
[Gove grinned at them and waved his ancient sword around in what he most likely thought was an ancient salute. It came far too close to Edward’s ear for Ed’s comfort. On another day – a day on which they hadn’t just exploded a magician together – he might have suspected Gove of doing it on purpose. Even today, he narrowed his eyes until Gove shrugged and sauntered off, sword swinging dangerously in his hand.]
Ed returned his focus to Edward. “And you helped,” he added, belatedly.
A bit of Edward’s nerves seemed to disappear, and his mouth twitched. “I did indeed.”
[Philip was dragged past them, apparently still magically paralysed. Peter sauntered after him, tossing them a jaunty little salute as he went. Armed police waited outside the doors; Ed thought he saw a glimpse of Nick Robinson as well. Ah well, let Peter have his moment.]
“Ed.”
“Yes, Edward?” Ed asked. Somehow his now table-leg-less hand reached itself out and tangled with Edward’s.
Edward looked at him, eyes sparkling inscrutably amidst the glitter.
[Stella spun by them, whirling Caroline Lucas around in an impromptu dance, Caroline’s broom discarded on one of the benches, both women laughing.]
Amidst all the madness and chaos and joy, Edward looked at him, and smiled.
“Yes, Edward?” Ed asked again, raising an eyebrow.
Edward’s fingers twisted around his, and his smile grew. “Marry me?” he said simply.
Ed’s breath caught. Too much glitter in the air. He knew it.
“I’d go down on one knee,” Edward said, his mouth quirking helplessly, “but I’d be kneeling in bits of Bone.”
Ed swallowed.
Edward bit his lip. “If you don’t want to, just say...I mean, we don’t have to...”
Ed cut him off with his mouth.
[In front of them, Fox straightened from his inspection of Yvette and Bercow with a smile on his face, and Chris let out a whoop and pulled Fox into a hug, before hurriedly letting him go again.
Next to them, David Laws sunk down onto the Lib Dem bench next to Nick Clegg – still numbly holding Ed’s table leg – and pulled out his phone.
Behind them, Peter tucked something into Nick Robinson’s pocket surreptitiously, then went back to beaming beneficently at Davies, who was now unparalysed and struggling in the arms of the police.]
Ed had his Edward in his arms, and his Edward’s mouth under his, and they were alive, standing in the glitter of an exploded magician, and all was right with the world.
Inadvisability of public demonstrations of affection be damned.
[After all, Yvette wasn’t back yet.]
~//~
Fandom: UK Politics
Title: Tidings of Glitter and Joy
Ship(s): Ed Balls/Ed Miliband
Word Count: 1,051
Rating: PG
Summary: Ed Balls and his Edward, in the aftermath of defeating the evil wizard Peter Bone. A coda to In Another Life. For my 50-fic party at the meme.
Disclaimer: This is a creative work of fiction, composed of fictional characters inspired by the public personas of living people. No injury or disrespect is intended to the persons named. If you've found this by googling yourself or someone you know, stop playing on the Internet and go run the country.
Tidings of Glitter and Joy
Ed would have expected an exploded magician to leave gobbets of magical protoplasm behind.
[If, that is, he’d bothered to think too much about exploding magicians. Generally Ed tried to keep his mind on the more pressing enemies (and their whimpering lapdogs) facing him across the Chamber on a daily basis, rather than the inchoate threat of magicians. Although it was true that lately he’d had to unwillingly divert some of his attention from the sacred task of making George Osborne look like a twat (which admittedly was a task that hardly demanded his full attention to complete) and refocus it on the efforts to keep his Leader from disappearing into other worlds all the time. Yvette’s frequent absences were starting to seriously interfere with Ed’s Five Point Plan To Make George Osborne Bawl Like A Baby.]
Instead of magical protoplasm, exploding magicians apparently turned into a shower of glitter. A shower of dark, sullen, glowering glitter – Ed wasn’t sure how the small pile at his feet was managing to glare at him quite so evilly – but glitter nonetheless.
Ed pushed at the pile of glitter with his foot, trying to make it stop staring at him. Around him, the room was alive with shocked, exultant chatter, as the group of MPs who’d followed Ed’s lead and stormed the Chamber to bring down the evil magicians now faced the aftermath of their defeat.
[Above them, up in the Government backbenches, Philip Davies was swearing, quite creatively and at length, apparently held in some sort of paralysing freeze-ray. Peter Mandelson sat nearby, looking far too pleased with himself, languidly brushing flecks of glitter off his trousers. A few braver souls had begun to approach, although some of them seemed not entirely sure which of the two they should be apprehending.]
Someone put a hand on Ed’s elbow, and he turned. His Edward was blinking at him, looking rather funny. But then, exploding magicians would cause many people to look rather funny, Ed allowed, generously.
Edward had glitter in his hair, and glitter straggling down his face, the dark sparkle of it lighting up his eyes. Ed swallowed. If he didn’t think too closely about the fact that it was Peter Bone glitter, and just thought about it as, well, glitter, the effect was quite striking. The urge to put a hand on Edward’s face and lean in for a kiss built, and Ed had to squash it down quite firmly. The House of Commons Chamber was hardly the place to indulge one’s romantic inclinations. Yvette would have a fit. (Their Yvette, not the one who was lying in a faint on the government frontbench next to a limp Bercow, the both of them being seen to by Liam Fox, of all people.)
[Near Yvette’s head, Chris Bryant hovered worriedly, the Mace slung over his shoulder. Despite being smashed over Bone’s head, the Mace didn’t seem to have the slightest dent. Ed gave it a wary side-eyed glance. Magic still gave him the shivers.]
“Ed.”
Ed emerged from his thoughts, shaking himself slightly. He found himself still holding a table leg, and handed it to Nick Clegg, who had collapsed on the Lib Dem bench (looking much more comfortable there than he ever had in the rarefied air of the Government frontbench). “What?”
[Edward’s throat, swallowing; Edward’s tongue, darting out to touch his lips; Edward’s eyelashes, fluttering down and up again.]
Edward’s smile was nervous. He always had been a bit higher-strung than Ed was himself; the exploding magician had probably nearly given him a heart attack. Ed regarded him with concern.
Edward swallowed again. “You were amazing.”
“Well,” Ed said modestly. “Someone had to rescue Yvette and save Parliament. Oi, watch it!”
[Gove grinned at them and waved his ancient sword around in what he most likely thought was an ancient salute. It came far too close to Edward’s ear for Ed’s comfort. On another day – a day on which they hadn’t just exploded a magician together – he might have suspected Gove of doing it on purpose. Even today, he narrowed his eyes until Gove shrugged and sauntered off, sword swinging dangerously in his hand.]
Ed returned his focus to Edward. “And you helped,” he added, belatedly.
A bit of Edward’s nerves seemed to disappear, and his mouth twitched. “I did indeed.”
[Philip was dragged past them, apparently still magically paralysed. Peter sauntered after him, tossing them a jaunty little salute as he went. Armed police waited outside the doors; Ed thought he saw a glimpse of Nick Robinson as well. Ah well, let Peter have his moment.]
“Ed.”
“Yes, Edward?” Ed asked. Somehow his now table-leg-less hand reached itself out and tangled with Edward’s.
Edward looked at him, eyes sparkling inscrutably amidst the glitter.
[Stella spun by them, whirling Caroline Lucas around in an impromptu dance, Caroline’s broom discarded on one of the benches, both women laughing.]
Amidst all the madness and chaos and joy, Edward looked at him, and smiled.
“Yes, Edward?” Ed asked again, raising an eyebrow.
Edward’s fingers twisted around his, and his smile grew. “Marry me?” he said simply.
Ed’s breath caught. Too much glitter in the air. He knew it.
“I’d go down on one knee,” Edward said, his mouth quirking helplessly, “but I’d be kneeling in bits of Bone.”
Ed swallowed.
Edward bit his lip. “If you don’t want to, just say...I mean, we don’t have to...”
Ed cut him off with his mouth.
[In front of them, Fox straightened from his inspection of Yvette and Bercow with a smile on his face, and Chris let out a whoop and pulled Fox into a hug, before hurriedly letting him go again.
Next to them, David Laws sunk down onto the Lib Dem bench next to Nick Clegg – still numbly holding Ed’s table leg – and pulled out his phone.
Behind them, Peter tucked something into Nick Robinson’s pocket surreptitiously, then went back to beaming beneficently at Davies, who was now unparalysed and struggling in the arms of the police.]
Ed had his Edward in his arms, and his Edward’s mouth under his, and they were alive, standing in the glitter of an exploded magician, and all was right with the world.
Inadvisability of public demonstrations of affection be damned.
[After all, Yvette wasn’t back yet.]
~//~
