Swords & Biceps

A/N Just a midnight occurrence… What do you think? Do review, please!

The silver sounded echoed through the armory. The sound of the whetstone against the iron was harmonious to my ears, despite that my arms were rather tired.

"You know, Pete? I have been thinking, and I think I do need names for my twin swords…"

Peter and I were in the armory, completing a great and grand task, assigned to us by our lovely swordmaster Oreius… we were sharpening swords. Yes, I know –simply fantastic! Apparently, we needed to know everything about swords and, therefore, we were assigned this brilliant task. At least this gave us some leisure time to chat:

Peter raised one eyebrow, "Oh, really? Were you reluctant to it before?"

I grinned, remembering some… thoughts that kept me smiling whenever I thought about naming my swords. "Yes, just a bit."

"How so?"

Again, that mischievous smile of mine threatened to appear. Of course, it would be embarrassing if any other than my family were to hear this… umm… comparison to the honorable ritual of naming swords. (By the Mane, it was more formal than a baptism!). "Pete, do you remember those things we used to see in the newspaper back in Spare Oom? Those illustrated histories, how were they called…?" I squeezed my memory trying to get the name.

Peter seemed uncertain to answer, but I would guess he did remembered the name. "Like… comic books? Something like that…"

"Comics, yes, that is! I think you were a devoted fan of them, weren't you, Pete?" I asked, half serious, half teasing.

"Yes, a bit I think." To his credit, my brother just blushed the teeniest, tiniest, most infinitesimal bit. But he did blushed. "They were American, right?" continued Peter.

"Yes" I paused, trying to battle the loss of memory we had had regarding everything before Narnia. "There was this comic about a – a sailor, super-strong man who loves to eat spinach, right?"

"OH, I remember that!" Said Peter, a wee bit too excited. Oh, this time he definitely blushed and then said, more soberly, "I think his name was Popeye."

Popeye. Popeye… the name got struck in my mind, Pop-eye Pop-eye, Pop-eye...

"Yes, yes, Pop-eye, that was his name… he had big muscles in his forearms, didn't he? They were tattooed with… anchors?"

Peter grinned, "You also remember a lot, don't you, Ed?"

I laughed blatantly. "I loved them as much as you, brother"

"What does this have to do with your swords?" Asked Peter in a curious, if not confused, voice.

"In one comic he named his biceps, right? Like, pain and spinach or something alike"

Peter's eyes began to open widely, and I mentally shot a photo right before realization downed on him and a huge laugh escaped him, "Oh, brother!"

Obviously, I had laughed enough with all the times thinking about that but, as it always happens, seeing someone laugh makes you want to laugh. Therefore, Peter and I laughed a lot, until we both had tears in our eyes. Our guards (two wolves and a cheetah) ran to us, thinking we were in danger, but after checking everything was well, they retreated giving us crazy looks…

Madness, as long as it doesn't lingers, is good even for kings, right?

"Brother, you have just compared the most honorable ritual of naming your sword with a crazy, muscled and tattooed Pop-eye!"

"I couldn't help it! Damned imagination…"

"And how would your biceps, I mean, your swords be named?" Asked Peter in a teasing tone, with a good-natured smile.

I chuckled, but then I head myself saying in a serious tone. "I like Klugheit (astuteness) and Solertia (sagacity). What do you think, brother?" I asked. After all, I needed good names to compete against Rhindon.

"Hmm… Klugheit and Solertia" Peter looked thoughtful. Then he tilted his head ever so slightly, "I think one should be named Spinach!"