em_teardrops

Beast Update

Mon, 10 Nov 2008 11:55:28 GMT

Yep, the monster is back on ff.net. A shorter chapter, actually just the part in the Town. It was SUPPOSED to be part of the whole of chapter 13. However the Town plays with the trio's heads timewise, and it was too confusing having it in with normal timed other Narnia. It was a dark chapter, but neccessary. I'm getting a lot of calls for suspian fluff... there's a bit that's fluffy on ch 14, but mostly political and actiony.

I've been wanting to bitch about this for awhile, but have been too polite to. However, I'm pretty tired of people felling like they are allowed to berate me for not updating on their own personally approved timelines. Hate to break it too you folks, but RL does happen. For everyone who was sweet and nice and patient, thanks. :)

*steps off soap box*
Anyway, the Town part wasn't fun to write and therefore I didn't write it until now. Think it was depressing to read? Imagine sitting there in that all day writing it. Yeck. But ch 14 is 60% done. My brains starting to get back in this fandom, so maybe I'll be able to get it out soon. Meh. Gotta go to work.

The plotbunnies need to leave me be. >.< arms shotgun

Sat, 02 Aug 2008 22:32:38 GMT

I think this is the last one that will distract me. It was actually written because of carla's wondering why Peter didn't just kill Jonah in the ship. She wanted Ed to give Peter Rhindon and let him go to town. lol. So I wrote this to make her happier. It is by FAR not my best work, and I think Jonah caves too quickly. But I didn't feel like dragging it out, so here it is.

Beast Insert Chapter follow-up

They didn’t have a dungeon at Cair Paravel.

At least, if you had asked the Queens Susan and Lucy and most of those that lived in the castle, there would say there was no dungeon. Cair Paravel was a place of warmth and friendship, of fairness and kindness. Any that needed rebuking were dealt with in such fashion that negated the necessity of a dungeon… At least, that was what everyone thought.

They didn’t have a dungeon but they did have some rooms, and if a person or Creature knew what was good for them, they avoided being sent to those rooms at all cost. One such person had not avoided it; in fact his behavior of a few days ago should have earned him an instant death. However, at the High King’s command the man named Jonah had been detained until the High King decided upon further action. It could be boring and uncomfortable in the rooms, and so while the High King took his time deciding, two men took their time in reminding the prisoner the consequences of his actions.

Jonah had not been having a very good few days.

“I think he passed out again,” a blonde man said, sounding a bit disappointed as he gripped the former soldier beneath the chin, turning his head this way and that to see if he was just faking.

“My hand is growing sore anyway,” King Edmund inspected his knuckles delicately, and then he winced as he popped his index finger back into place. “I must be out of practice.”

Logan was hunched down in front of the chair the prison was bound to, and he finally seemed convinced that Jonah was not faking. Edmund’s friend dropped Jonah’s face, letting his head loll forwards.

“Is this really the kind of practice that you want to be in?” Logan asked lightly, glancing over at Edmund curiously. The King had an unusual grimness to his eyes, despite his tone. Even after two days of this, Edmund had still not forgiven nor forgotten the events that nearly took both his brother and sister from him.

“You’re one to talk,” Ed returned flatly.

“I’m also not a King,” Logan said drolly. Then he grinned as he picked Jonah’s face up once more and gave him a tiny shake. “Aw, he’s kinda cute when he’s sleeping. Not at all like the lying, kidnapping, worthless piece of shit that he is.”

“Should I leave you two alone?” Edmund chuckled, leaning back against the cold stone wall, flexing his hands. They were both sore. He had not been gentle.

“He’s too whiny for my taste,” Logan joked, cracking his knuckles deliberately. “Despite his refusal to talk, he has not held up well so far. I like my prisoners much more resilient. Has your brother decided yet upon what he will do? This one will not last much longer, and we have gotten little out of him.”

“I’m about ready to decide for the High King,” Edmund growled, shaking his head. “Peter should have let me kill him on the ship. I almost did, despite what he said. Son of a bitch stole Lucy, nearly killed her too with that stuff he knocked her out with. She had a tiny seizure last night… Pete said that she had several bad ones when she was out before.”

This was news to Logan, and the smile slid from his face. “Is she okay?”

“The healers say that it takes a while for the full effects to wear off, but she should be mostly fine. She might have more, something I didn’t quite understand about being susceptible now. If she gets dosed again it could be very bad, though.”

“Then we will have to make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Logan said softly, his voice dropping dangerously. The bound man began to stir, groaning as he did. Logan glanced at Edmund, then stood and walked away as Edmund stepped forward. The King grabbed the other man by the hair and tipped his face upwards.

“Good morning,” he said with false merriment. “Did you have a nice rest? Is there anything of value that you finally wish to say?”

“Fuck you,” Jonah whispered harshly, peering at Edmund through one watery swollen eye and licking his torn lips. “A fuck your whore of a sister too.”

Edmund just smiled darkly at Jonah. Oh yes, Peter better decide quickly, because this boy would not last long.

----

Nearing late afternoon the third day, the High King finally stepped into the room they were keeping Jonah in. Edmund had been called away for state reasons and Logan had been left to play with the former suitor as he wished. Like the King before him, he hadn’t been kind. The battered bloody lump of a man that sat bound before him was not the same that had so arrogantly taken Peter prisoner.

“Have you tired of sending your apes to do your dirty work?”

Peter was surprised that Jonah could even speak, let alone breathe, but the young man was very tough. It had been what had attracted Lucy when they had met. Now it was only making life harder on him, not that Peter cared if this boy extended his pain for months. The water the guards had been ordered to give him had seemed to liven him up a bit.

“Only a coward allows others to inflict pain in his name,” Jonah continued to taunt the High King, watching through one eye as Peter moved slowly about the room, his hand lightly resting on Rhindon. Peter said nothing, merely watching Jonah twist to try and keep him in eyesight.

“You had plenty to say when I was feeling up your sister,” Jonah smirked, allowing his tone to be as suggestive as possible. “Does it bother you that your own flesh and blood is so easily deceived? She followed me around like a bitch in heat.”

Peter still said nothing but his eyes were darkening as he circled behind the prisoner.

“Would you like me to tell you what she felt like?” the young soldier asked, whispering conspiratorially. “How she moaned like a whore every time I touched her? Because I can talk about that all day long, considering how often she did…”

Jonah trailed off as the High King pulled a second chair to sit down directly in front of him, drawing his sword and holding it gently in the palms of his hands.

“If that is supposed to scare me, you’re wasting your breath. I will say nothing.”

Peter seemed to accept this, nodding silently. Then with quiet deliberateness, he leaned forward, gripped Jonah almost gently by the shoulder and ran him through.

The look in the young man’s eyes was complete shock, for he had expected some sort of demand for information. Then his expression turned to one of excruciating pain as he realized that he was not dead yet. Finally the High King spoke as he withdrew Rhindon, blood beginning to seep slowly from Jonah’s belly.

“I’ve been a King for nine years now,” Peter said quietly, calmly wiping the blade clean on a cloth. He placed the sword almost lovingly on his lap, leaning back in his chair and looking directly into the other man’s pained eyes.

“Nine years and I have learned many things that I am not sure I would have wished to know.” Peter sighed softly, almost regretfully. “I know that the wound I have given you will kill you without the use of Lucy’s cordial, although it will take you several hours to die. How ironic, that the one you hurt the most in all this is the only one that can save you.”

“Fuck you and her both!” Jonah cried, but Peter could tell the pain was already starting to get to him. He was trembling violently.

“She will help, you know,” Peter ignored Jonah’s cursing, continuing to speak quietly and calmly. “That’s the thing about Lucy. No matter how much you might have hurt her, she’ll forgive you and help you. She’ll never trust you again, or maybe any suitor for that matter, but out of her love for everything Aslan has made, she will help you.”

“I won’t tell you who sent me,” Jonah declared harshly, but as the crimson stain spread across his shirt, the fight was leaving him. His body was racked with pain as the poisons in his belly spread.

“She is the best of us all,” the High King stated, giving Jonah an almost gentle smile. “And she will continue to be that way, no matter what happens to her.”

Waiting, letting him feel the fingertips of death stroke the back of his neck warningly, and Jonah was beginning to have fear. He didn’t fear dying, but this agony was more than he could bear.

“She has already forgiven you, Jonah. She would save your life.”

Tears began to roll down the young man’s cheeks, and he realized that he was doing just as Peter said. He was dying ever so slowly, his whole body on fire from the inside out.

“Please,” Jonah heard himself say, shame falling beneath the pain. He was pure white as the life leaked from him. “Bring her and give me the cordial. I will tell you everything. I will tell you who sent me.”

Peter leaned over and using a small knife, he cut Jonah’s binds, allowing his arms to fall free. The young man wrapped his arms about his belly and bowled over, clutching himself. The High King gently eased him to the floor, smoothing a hand over the kidnapper’s brow.

“Please…” More tears. “I will tell you!” The name of his employer fell from the man’s lips and the High King shushed him soothingly.

“I already know,” Peter told him softly, and for the first time the prisoner heard the ice cold steel beneath the High King’s words. “I have known since the night we brought you here, your raspy voiced companion told us everything after we fished him out of the sea. Still so naïve, Jonah. When you run a man through, he never dies as fast as you’d think.”

Jonah was blubbering now, realizing that he had nothing to bargain with, and he fell upon the mercy of the Queen.

“You said she forgives me,” Jonah gasped, retching now between words as the pain had him nearly overcome. Oh god, it hurt so badly.

“She does.” The High King regained his chair calmly. “I do not. You took my baby sister’s innocence from her. I’m taking your life from you. It is not a fair trade for her, but it will have to do.”

“Please…”

As he sat there watching the man die, Peter nearly caved. He hated taking a life, and most certainly hated doing so in such a cruel way. Then the High King thought about this man, and how his cruelty would not have been stopped by simple pleas, and how his hate towards Lucy would never end. Should he be healed and ever get free, he would immediately seek revenge. That could never happen. Lu could never be allowed to come to harm. Never.

The High King steeled himself, against the evil that was this deed done to this evil man. Aslan forgive him when he was through. He would not let his sister down, not again.

Jonah’s heart lurched in his chest when he saw the way the High King’s eyes softened in sympathy, and how he withdrew a small vial from his belt. The King was weak, and could not take his life, and Jonah rejoiced. Already he thought of the ways he would make this King pay for his pain, and how he would enjoy every second of it.

“Drink, man,” Peter said quietly, tipping Jonah’s head back and letting him guzzle the contents of the vial greedily. “Drink. And go to whoever will have you now.”

Jonah was dead before he finished the last swallow.

----

Lucy looked beautiful tonight, nearly rivaling Susan. Still shaken from earlier events, it was as if all would be well if Lu just put on her finest things and smiled as best she could. It nearly broke Edmund’s heart, watching how hard she was trying. They were to begin supper in the Great Hall, and the long tables were bursting with hungry guests, but everyone was waiting for the one person that hadn’t shown up yet. A low murmur had begun to move about the room, for the High King was never late to a banquet. Finally, as Su and Ed shared a look and almost started without him, Peter’s blonde head appeared through the side door.

“Sorry I am late,” Peter murmured, giving them all an apologetic smile as he sat down between Susan and Lucy. Lu had not quite gotten over nearly losing her brother, and she had started sitting next to him every chance she could. From her place, she gave him a worried little look.

“Is everything alright?” Lucy asked, but Peter took her hand in his and gave her knuckles a brief kiss.

“Yes, everything is fine now.” Except for the fact he had just murdered a murderer. What did that make him?

“Are you sure?” She knew him too well, but the High King only smiled and lifted his wine glass, drinking first and starting the meal.

“I promise, Lu. I’m sure.” That was good enough for her. Peter and his brother locked eyes, and Edmund nodded once, his understanding and his approval. Down at the end of the table Logan coughed lightly.

Unawares, the Queens ate their meal, content in knowing they were safe and sound in the golden halls of Cair Paravel, where no dungeons have ever been needed.

Drug or Dragged?

Thu, 31 Jul 2008 22:31:04 GMT

IT WILL BE "DRUG" UNTIL THE DAY I DIE.

lol. I just felt like saying that. Yeah yeah yeah, I know. It is technically dragged. But I can assure the good people of the world that this Midwesterm girl has never ever dragged anything across the yard. I have upon many occasions drug something across the yard. My husband drug a tree limb yesterday. No illegal activities were involved. It was not done against the tree limb's will.

After searching around on the web, I have found that using "drug" is common in the Midwest, and until everyone started mentioning it to me in reviews that I was wrong, I was positive that was how it was used. I have NEVER heard anyone say they "dragged" something. I do hear "umpto" and "y'all" everyday, so that very firmly proves that I am wrong in my word usage. But I don't care. It will be "drug" until the day I die. Then I can be dragged to my grave, unless of course I die here in Tennessee. Then I will be drug to my grave and they will mourn me with chitlins and burr.

Kitten!Caspian

Wed, 23 Jul 2008 18:27:58 GMT

Did y'all remember Caspian and the kitten? Well.... the other night I couldn't help myself. It's entirely retarded but made me giggle.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=veGVLebsr6M

Heh.

()_()............()_()...........()_()

Fri, 18 Jul 2008 00:29:27 GMT

Bunnies lurk in pairs of three.

That being said, I'm getting a quicker head start on Ch13 of Beast. About 2000 words in, and the feel of this chapter is already much different. It's not as dark and shifty, but it does get very political. Caspian and Susan have had their first fight, but since they made up last chapter, expect happier scenes between the two of them.

I was thinking about Susan, and it occurred to me that the whole "The Gentle" thing never came out in the movies. More like Susan the sarcastic in LWW and Susan the Hardass in PC. Where's the Gentle? But I also decided that I bet everyone completely catered to her and Lucy when they were Queens the first time. It's easy to be gentle when you don;t have to fight for your life every day. If Aslan called her gentle, then it is more in her nature to sit back and let things happen about her. She's kind, she's brave, but maybe... a little passive? Perhaps passive isn't the best word. But in Beast, the Telmarine politics have gotten pretty harsh, and I can see her realizing just how dfifferent that is from Golden Age Narnian politics. Since I don't see her as another Prunaprismia, I think our gentle queen is going to start hating the harshness. Question is, can she do anything about it? Will it make her look at Caspian differently? He is a Telmarine after all.

Anyways, back to the next chapter. I'm not sure if it will have Town stuff or not. Kinda depends on how hard it is for Ed and Co to figure out the Town. Anyone else think Malok was a FREAK? lol. *shudders* On a side note not in the story, Bleg the Giant is a direct descendant from the Giant that attempted to court Su in the Golden Age. His name was Blargh.

;)

Chapter 12 countdown... when will it ever end?!!!!???!!!

Mon, 14 Jul 2008 22:47:15 GMT

AAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!!

Okay, I just had to get that out. So, I have the non Edmund part of Ch 12 of Beast done. Yikes, it's thirty pages of text just by itself. That's longer than any chapter so far. Unfortunately that is ONLY the non Ed part, and I know everyone has been wanting more Ed stuff. So, I am throwing it out there. Should I post the chapter as is? Or should this be a mega chapter and post it in a couple days when I have the Ed part finished? Whatever you guys want, let me know. I'll just keep writing unless I hear otherwise. By the way, here's a clippet.

“Peter!” Lucy gasped, pointing over his shoulder. He turned and saw what she had seen, and another oath left his tongue. More hooded riders, only these were closer, their swords drawn as they galloped parallel to the High King. The foremost turned his mount, taking it straight for the monarchs.

“Hold on, Lu!” he cried, lifting Rhindon in a defensive position. There was the crash of steel and flesh as they went shoulder to shoulder, man and King, horse and Horse. Peter managed to gain advantage and struck the man in the face with the pommel of his sword, knocking him out of his saddle. The Horse aided him by thrusting against the other animal, making it stumble and sending the man headfirst into the dirt.

“Your Majesty! Watch out!” someone yelled behind him, and Peter turned to his other side just in time to see a blade coming Lu’s way. It was too late to avoid it. Even though Peter grabbed the man’s wrist and caught the weight of the blow when the hilt struck his forearm, bending back protectively over Lucy, the blade still sliced across his torso. However Peter had chosen to wear a thick leather jerkin of Telmarine make and it protected him from the worst of the blow, leaving a dramatic looking but not serious cut. A Cat screamed furiously and leapt at the High King’s assailant, snarling and clawing as it drug the man from the saddle. Peter could have sworn the Mouse on the Cat’s back grinned at him before they disappeared in a pile of rider and horse and Animal. Forgetting himself, Peter dug his heels into the Horse’s sides, spurring it on. The Horse plunged ahead, using every ounce of speed that it had available.

“Should we fight?” Lucy called up to him, but Peter shook his head.

“Keep running!” he yelled back. “They’re too good for this lot to fight! Those of us with weapons will hold them off at the Ford.”

“But what about you?” she worried, clutching his clothes as the Horse ducked and darted out of the way of another rider. These riders were fast but the forest bred Animals were faster. “There’s too many!”

Peter didn’t have an answer, because at that moment the Horse had broken out of the trees. But instead of darting across the reconstructed ford, the Horse dropped its hindquarters and slid to a stop, its front end rearing from the momentum. The white of its eyes showed as it snorted in astonishment. The ford had been destroyed.

New oneshot

Sat, 12 Jul 2008 18:19:01 GMT

I've got this posted at the susancaspian community, but figured I'd put it here as well since I don't really feel it is polished enough to go up on ff.net. Rated G.

On Being Content

Steel shrieked across steel.

“You know, I don’t know why Caspian always allows Edmund to draw him into things like this,” Susan remarked to Lucy, sighing the sigh of one long suffering. “We all have to be at that Ball in under an hour and just look at them.”

The littlest Queen followed her big sister’s line of sight, to where the two figures fought back and forth across the garden. Shirtless and sweaty, both refused to give the other an inch, arms straining as they crossed blades. Edmund was not as strong as Caspian, and Caspian not as fast as Edmund, so the pair was almost equal as they shifted from lightning quick swordplay to full body wrestling with blades.

“Ha!” Edmund cried, a grunt more than a laugh as he broke free of Caspian’s hold and kicked the King in the stomach, knocking him back a step. Before Caspian could recover, Edmund had followed through, catching the older boy, man really, a sharp backhand across the face. Bloody lips mean little to one that has fought for hours with much graver wounds, so Caspian shook his head to regain his senses and flung himself forward, each furious sword stroke driving Edmund backwards this time.

“They are rather sweaty, aren’t they?” Lucy murmured, seeing Su’s frustration. Both Queens had spent the better part of the day getting ready for the event, but Su had paid the price to look the way she did. She had slept on rollers last night, ignoring her sister’s giggles, and now her hair spilled artfully down her back in large spiraling curls. The curls about her brow had been woven into a diamond studded net, an hour and a half worth of work alone. She had barely touched her food for a week so that, with the help of an extremely tight corset, she could fit into a dress with the tiniest waist imaginable. Lucy had watched the pulling and the wincing, and she still couldn’t believe that Mrs. Badger had made it fit. As pretty as she herself felt tonight, Lucy kept staring at Su, wishing that one day she would look like her even though she had proof that she would not. The older Queen was positively gorgeous, royal, regal… and understandably irritated. For Caspian was her escort, and he was bruised and bleeding and drenched in sweat, seeming to have lost track of time completely.

“Perhaps you should stop them,” Lucy suggested. Susan shook her head.

“No, it’s not my place,” she said dryly. “And as much as I wish he was ready, I refuse to babysit him.”

Clashing of swords made the passing servants pause to take notice, as now Edmund drove a spinning Caspian sideways, the pair heading straight for where the two Queens stood.

“You’re getting good,” Edmund said, ducking a blow that would have taken his head should it have landed. “Almost as good as me.” Caspian’s eyes were bright and a smile split his face at the words. In his opinion, the younger King was phenomenal.

“Are you sure I am not better?” Caspian teased as he almost sliced the other King’s stomach, cutting instead the fabric of his tunic. Edmund laughed and launched into a flurry of moves that instantly had Caspian’s sword knocked from his hand and the tip of Edmund’s at his throat, abruptly ending the match.

“Not better,” Ed chuckled as he advanced a step, enjoying watching Caspian have to shift down to his knees and bend back slightly to not catch himself on the blade. “But still, very good,”

“I take that as compliment,” Caspian replied, relaxing as Edmund dropped the stance. The Telmarine flicked his wet hair out of his eyes and stood, muscles rippling as he stretched.

“That was a good match,” Edmund acknowledged, looking up and noticing the Queens for the first time.

“Aye, although I still think that I…” Caspian’s words drifted off as he followed Edmund’s line of sight. Upon catching view of Susan, his eyes widened slightly. Edmund watched the older King flush, then let out an almost imperceptible sigh as he bowed politely to the pair.

“You two look smart,” Ed called jovially, taking a half step in front of Caspian to cover how obvious he was staring at Su. “What’s the celebration?”

“Oh Edmund, you haven’t forgotten have you?” Lucy looked distressed and stamped her little foot on the ground. Simultaneously a deep ringing filled the air as the tower bells signaled the approach of dinner.

“Oh, that bloody ball,” Edmund groaned and tried to share a look with Caspian. Caspian however seemed only to be able to share a look with Susan right now. “And I promised I’d take you, didn’t I Lu?”

Lucy might have seemed disappointed but Susan’s face had taken that slightly icy look it got when she was mad but trying hard not to be.

“Perhaps we should meet you two there?” Susan offered, and Caspian winced. He headed directly for her, grabbing up his sword from the ground and sheathing it as he did.

“You look lovely, my queen,” Caspian told her quietly, eyes drinking her in and making Susan shift beneath his gaze. “You should have an escort tonight.”

“I’m sure Peter would not mind, if you two would rather continue your games,” Susan said pointedly, still a bit miffed and Caspian once more flinched. He gave her an apologetic smile, along with the sad brown eyes that always made Susan cave. Lucy wondered if the King was doing it on purpose or if he was that naturally able to soften other’s displeasure. Perhaps years of living under Miraz’s harsh rule had honed Caspian’s social survival instincts. Whatever the case, by the time he had taken Su’s hand and kissed her knuckles, he had already won, whether he knew they were in competition or not.

“Five minutes, my lady,” he promised. “And I shall be presentable enough to be shown on any arm less lovely than your own.”

“Less than mine?” Susan’s eyebrow rose.

“Aye, for to do you justice would take more lifetimes than I have to prepare,” Caspian watched her intently and despite herself Susan sighed resignedly.

“He’s good,” Lucy muttered to her brother, who had joined her in watching the pair.

“Naw, Su’s just a sucker,” Edmund said loudly enough for them to hear. Susan turned and like the regal Queen she was, stuck her tongue out at him. Over her shoulder, Caspian grinned brightly at Edmund before smoothing his face back into a solemnly contrite expression as Susan faced him once more.

“Hurry then, Caspian,” she begged and he nodded acquiescence. Edmund had grabbed their shirts and tossed Caspian’s at him over Susan’s head. She ducked to protect her coifed curls, shooting an evil look at her brother as Caspian caught it one handed. Caspian grinned once more at Ed and Lucy as Susan practically drug him away from the gardens. As the pair disappeared into the castle, Lucy shook her head at her brother.

“You know he’s her suitor now, Edmund,” Lucy admonished. “You shouldn’t make him play with you so much.”

Edmund just shrugged and sheathed his own sword on his hip.

“I don’t make him play with me Lu, he does it because he wants to, and aren’t we a bit too old to call it playing?”

“It’s playing,” she decided with a smirk. “And if you’re going to be as smelly as this, then perhaps I should go ask Peter if he’d be my escort too.”

“And abandon me to the wiles of the court ladies? Why Lu, that’s simply cruel!” Edmund pressed his hand across his breast dramatically. Lucy leaned in and sniffed him delicately before wrinkling her nose.

“So is that.” At her words he chuckled and wrapped one sweaty arm around her neck, tugging her to his side playfully. Lucy made a gagging noise which he ignored.

“I thought you liked swordplay and didn’t mind the aftereffects,” Edmund grinned as he reminded her of her Old ways. Then he gave himself a whiff, and winced. “Ahh, but I do believe you’re right, sister dear. Perhaps I should follow in Caspian’s footsteps.”

Giggling at his dramatics, Lucy slipped her hand into his. Smelly or not, she wouldn’t miss him being her escort for the world.

------

“You could’ve stopped that in there.”

Edmund was angry with Caspian, and he didn’t have a single problem making that known. The two Kings had just emerged from council with Peter, and while Edmund had been glaring at Caspian for the last half hour straight, he had held his tongue until the two entered the relative privacy of the castle corridors.

“The High King had his mind made up,” Caspian shrugged, looking unconcerned as he walked. He was headed to the Queen’s chambers, having promised Lucy he would take her for a ride when they were done. Edmund followed, looking irate as he challenged Caspian’s logic.

“And had you spoken up, his mind might have been changed! I know you didn’t agree with him either,” Edmund accused. The older King gave him a sideways look.

“You seemed to be speaking up enough for both of us, and it did little but extend the meeting an extra hour. In the end the High King’s decision stands.”

“We’re Kings too, Caspian. Just because Pete outranks us doesn’t mean we have to keep out mouths shut. And he was wrong, we both know it.”

At that Caspian finally stopped and rounded on Edmund.

“Respectfully, brother, I ask that you refrain from such comments,” Caspian said firmly. “Because I for one am not sure he was wrong.”

“What? But we’ve talked about this before, your views--” Edmund was cut off by his friend’s raised hand.

“Are my own. And we will see soon enough if the High King is correct or not, so I am content to let it lie.” Caspian resumed walking, and Edmund fell in step, shaking his head in aggravation.

“You don’t have to always give in to him, you know,” Edmund told Caspian flatly. “I don’t know if it is because his rank or because of Su, but you’re not required to concede as often as you do.”

Once more Caspian stopped, sighing softly. “Do you really want to know why I concede to the High King?”

“Obviously.”

“It is because I respect him, Edmund,” Caspian said quietly. “It is not because I fear to speak my mind, for you have seen the High King and I disagree often. But I have thought long on the events that transpired prior to my reign, and I am not convinced that it was not my fault that we did not claim the castle that night. Just because I feel something is right in my heart at the time does not mean that it is right. One day I may have to send men to live or die by my gut instincts, but for now I have the opportunity to learn from someone who has ruled successfully for a lifetime. Peter is fallible, but as are you and as am I. I will watch him, and I will not always agree, but unless it is something that I feel must be said, I will have faith in him.”

Edmund said nothing for a moment, and then cursed as he threw his hands up in the air.

“Could you maybe be a little more selfish?” the young man complained. “Just to make the rest of us feel better?”

Caspian tipped his head to the side. “I do not understand,” he admitted.

“No,” Edmund rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t.”

Caspian just shrugged as if it was no matter.

-----

The Queen yelped loudly.

Fortunately after she was done she squealed and jumped up and down, clapping her hands. Susan winced at the noise, grateful it was muffled as Lucy threw her arms about Caspian’s waist. He had covered her eyes as he had led her out into a far corner of the extensive gardens, where he had insisted she stay away from for the last fortnight. When Caspian had uncovered her eyes, Lucy had seen the most beautifully made little garden. Everything was sized perfectly for her, small stepping stones leading to a petite waterfall, complete with a tiny pond that just begged for her to place her feet in. The flowers had been chosen carefully for their ability to attract butterflies and Butterflies, so that nearly every petal had gently flapping wings. Their movements made the flowers look like they were dancing, and the light reflecting off the waterfall made the whole place shimmer.

More than the beauty, it held meaning for it had been recreated to match a larger garden that had once been designed just for her by her oldest and dearest friend Tumnus. Caspian had only her fond descriptions to go on, but it seemed that had been sufficient. She immediately had recognized it for what it was. Happy tears sprang into her eyes as Lucy clung to Caspian.

“You like it then, little Lu?” he teased her, picking the youngest Queen up and spinning her about.

“It’s perfect!” she declared, covering his face with kisses before he set her back down.

“There is one more thing. Go look at the bench, I have left something there for you.” With a huge grin on her face the Queen dashed off, leaving Susan standing next to Caspian with her arms crossed.

“You spoil her dreadfully, Caspian,” Susan remarked. He merely smiled, watching Lucy find the small package tucked beneath the bench amongst the clover. The little girl opened it quickly, then immediately fell very still. It was a pipe, of Faun making. It was worn smooth, as it should be for one that had survived 1300 years. Lucy looked up at him, eyes older than the rest of her.

“Is this--?” she seemed unable to get the words out. Caspian nodded solemnly.

“Trufflehunter and Trumpkin found it amongst the relics at Cair Paravel,” Susan told her sister. “He would have wanted you to have it.”

Lucy smiled, but they could see her lip quivering as she held the pipe to her tightly.

“Thank you, thank you both,” she said, her words heartfelt. Su shook her head.

“Don’t thank me, it was all Caspian.”

It was obvious that the littlest Queen was overcome, so the royal couple took their leave of her, walking away from what would be called Lucy’s Garden for the rest of their days.

“You spoil her,” Susan repeated, resting her hand on Caspian’s arm.

“You disapprove?” he asked her softly.

“With three of you doting on her like you do, it will be a wonder if she grows up as sensible as she did the first time,” Susan worried, pausing her steps. Caspian took her hands, tugging her forward just a step so that he could set his chin on the top of her head.

“I would rather Lucy grow up rotten and ungrateful than ever know what it was like to grow up wanting,” Caspian murmured. “Of her not knowing such things as kindness and generosity and love in her life.”

There was a catch to his voice, and Susan pulled away enough to be able to look up into his dark eyes.

“You don’t want her to grow up the way you did,” Susan supplied gently. Caspian was silent, but he rested his forehead against hers, his strong hands encircling her waist as they stood close together. Finally he exhaled softly.

“Nay, lady. I do not.”

It was as close as he would come to admitting the roughness of his upbringing, and even those few words were hard on him. So Susan took his face in her hands and leant up on her tiptoes, kissing him as carefully and lovingly as she could. Then she held him tightly, much as her sister had, although her arms were not those of a little girl but those of a woman.

“You are a good man, to freely give that which you were never given.”

Caspian never told her that it was the kindest thing anyone had ever said to him, nor that anything had ever meant as much. It was not his way.

----

“Just give up, Caspian,” Peter called up to his friend, looking extremely amused. “It’s never going to work.”

The other monarch just gave him a look that said he didn’t find the same humor in the situation that the High King did.

“She wants the apple,” Caspian growled. “I will get her the bloody apple.” Caspian was currently scaling the topmost branches of the furthest most tree in the orchard. Unfortunately this particular tree stood right at the edge of the gorge the castle was built in, so the climbing was not nearly as worrisome as the falling could be. A ways down the orchard, they could hear Susan and Lucy’s laughter as they played amongst the tress.

“There’s other fruit back at the castle,” Peter reminded him. “The apple season is over.”

“Except for this one,” Caspian grunted as he lifted himself up one more branch and tried to grab the apple. It dangled just out of his reach.

“You could’ve just shot it with an arrow or thrown a rock and knocked it down,” Peter suggested pleasantly, resting comfortably on the safety of the ground.

“And have to admit that it fell off the cliff?” Caspian shot back, toeing along the branch beneath him carefully. “That I am King of Narnia but I cannot capture a simple piece of fruit for my lady?”

“Your lady,” the High King said drolly, “asked this of you on purpose.”

“What do you mean?” Caspian had a pretty good idea, but sometimes it’s better to hear the truth straight out.

“In the Old times, you would have been trying to scale that thing with ten others attempting to beat you to it,” Peter chuckled. “Then you would have had to present it to her on a silver platter and sang a sonnet at the same time. Oh, and maybe fought a battle to the death for the privilege. All Su has now is you, since no one else is brave enough to try to court her against you, so she’s making the best of it.”

“Why do you tell me these things?” Caspian asked plaintively, as he finally managed to secure said elusive apple. “I make enough of a fool of myself for her, do I not?”

“For the record, friend, you can just tell her no.”

Caspian dropped to the ground with a thump and pulled out his kerchief.

“Hmmm?” he asked, distracted by his efforts to shine the slightly withered fruit back to its former glory. Peter grinned and folded his arms behind his head.

“I said, you can just tell her no.”

Caspian just shook his head, a touch of a wry smile curving his lips. “Nay, that I cannot.”

“Why? It would be good for her,” Peter encouraged, but Caspian held his ground and his apple proudly.

“The Queen deserves everything she could have had and should have had,” Caspian declared. Peter shrugged his apathy. His friend might be in love, but to the High King, Su was just a sister. Then a sly grin spread across Peter’s face.

“Everything, huh?”

“Everything,” Caspian stated firmly, but then he began to grow suspicious as Peter stood up and began to stroll off towards the Queens.

“I’ll tell her to get ready then,” Peter chuckled, enjoying the dread spreading over his friend’s face.

“Ready for what?” Caspian demanded. “Peter! Ready for what?”

“For the sonnets. Start practicing!”

Caspian gave his back a sick look. Off in the distance, Susan laughed.

-----

It had become common knowledge to the Pevensies that Caspian’s sweet good natured personality had a dark undercurrent to it. Perhaps he had spent too much time alone, growing up with only the company of his thoughts. As huge as his heart was, as kind as he treated those he cared about and those he ruled, Caspian did not do the same to himself. He would berate himself for small mistakes, punishing himself to the point that not even Susan knew what to do. It was as if perfection had been drilled so deeply into him that Caspian would settle for nothing less. And in the event that he could not achieve it, the young King would sink into the silence of his own mind, brooding unhappily.

He had been following such habit for nearly three days straight, growing grouchier and more solitary by the minute, when a knock came to his door. Caspian had insisted that they leave him be and so far they had done as he asked. He had spent the better part of the evening in the arm chair nearest the fire, lost in thought. Therefore it was an irritable King that grudgingly opened his door when a second and third knock came. Lucy smiled a huge toothy grin up at him. The little girl had her kitten (or perhaps Kitten) in her arms, although the thing was growing fast enough that it was harder for her to carry around as much.

“Hallo Caspian!” she said brightly, stepping forward and giving him a one armed hug. The other arm tried to balance the kitten as she did.

“Hello, Lucy,” Caspian replied, trying to keep the annoyance from his face as he resignedly gave her a hug back. “Did you need something?”

“Hmmm? Oh, I just wanted to see you,” she admitted, the kitten wiggling around in her arms.

As nicely as he could, Caspian said, “That is very kind of you, Lu. However I was in the midst of something… perhaps we can speak another time?”

“Opps! Oh dear, I’ve lost my kitten!” Lucy cried, as the thing seemed to magically slip out of her arms and dash through the open door, past the King. “Sorry, Caspian.”

Caspian watched the little Queen dash after the kitten, the pair running circles about his chaise lounge, and he sighed inwardly. Truly he had just wanted to be left to his own thoughts this evening.

“Lu, when you grab her, if you do not mind--”

“Oh, I’m sure she doesn’t, chap,” a male voice said jovially from the doorway. Caspian turned and saw Edmund swagger into his chambers, not bothering to ask permission before flopping himself down in Caspian’s armchair. “But it’ll take her forever to catch that thing. Fastest kitten alive. I know, I had to snag it yesterday.”

“You guys are approaching it all wrong,” Susan replied, stepping in after Edmund. She paused briefly to give the surprised Caspian a chaste kiss on the cheek before moving to sit on the chaise. “Just offer her some catnip.”

“You can’t give a Cat catnip, Su,” Edmund argued, ignoring the crash as kitten and Lucy knocked into a particularly nice end table. “Do you know how much trouble they get in? It like getting a Dwarf drunk and shoving him into a room with a bunch of randy old ladies. It never ends pretty.”

“You say that like you’ve seen it happen, Ed,” Lucy giggled, making her brother grin devilishly.

“I don’t want to know,” Susan declared. “Plus we don’t know if it’s a Cat or a cat, so what’s the harm?”

“That’s what the Dwarf said,” Edmund waggled his eyebrows and despite herself Susan began laughing. Caspian looked at the three a bit bemusedly, still fighting his irritation and desire to ask them to leave. However that would not be polite, not when the High King himself had just strode in, looking as if he had won a particularly hard battle.

“I found it!” Peter declared triumphantly, brandishing a red leather bound book. “Although it took me a bloody week to do it. Hallo, Caspian.” He gave Caspian a friendly clap on his shoulder as he passed by and settled himself on the floor near Edmund. Unable to do anything else, and having run out of Pevensies, Caspian chose to quietly close the door.

“Peter, watch your language around Lu,” Susan couldn’t help but say, knowing it wasn’t ever going to do much good.

“Oh, she’s heard much worse,” Edmund defended his brother faithfully. “You should have heard what Caspian said in front of her last week.”

“Really?” Susan raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at Edmund, and then turned it her suitor’s way. Caspian, knowing the truth of the statement, had the grace to blush.

“I did not know she was behind me,” Caspian admitted, glaring at Ed for ratting him out. The other two kings just grinned in matching expressions of ‘up to no good’-ness. “And it was nothing compared to the High King’s comments about the Duchess of Anvard.” Ha! Two could play at that game. Peter reddened slightly, glancing guiltily at Lucy, who was much more interested in her kitten than their conversation.

“She didn’t even know what it meant,” Peter muttered, but he did cough in embarrassment, and Caspian found himself smirking. He walked over to the chaise and sat down on it near Susan. She gave him a sweet smile and took his hand.

“Okay, you guys ready?” Peter asked, opening the book and looking at it intently.

“Ready for what?” Caspian wondered. Perhaps this book was the reason why all four of the monarchs would have intruded upon his seclusion.

“Okay, everyone, Ghoul.”

“Huh? That’s an easy one, Peter, pick something else,” Susan insisted.

“No, I bet it’s not easy for Caspian. He’s brand new to Narnian things,” Edmund countered, causing a short disagreement between the two that Lucy finally broke up.

“Why don’t you just ask him if he knows what it is?” Lucy suggested, seeing the complete confusion on the Telmarine’s face.

“What is this that we are doing?” Caspian asked, and Peter gave him a grin.

“Best… game… ever.”

“Oh shuddup, Peter!” Susan cried, and the Pevensies fell to laughing, much to Caspian’s astonishment. But their laughter was infectious, and despite how much he had felt he needed to be alone that night, Caspian found his inner turmoil easing as he sat quietly within the tight knit group.

Nearly an hour later, Caspian found himself reclining on the chaise, his head cradled on Susan’s lap as he listened quietly to the conversations going on around him. Caspian had not joined in the game, being content to merely be there. His eyes were closed as Susan’s fingers ran through his hair soothingly, stopping only as she had to think particularly hard. On the floor next to him, Lucy had curled up and was blinking sleepily. Her kitten rested on the chaise between Caspian’s ribs and Lucy’s hand. It was making deep purring noises as both the King and the Queens randomly reached over to scratch it behind its ears. Peter and Edmund were in an argument about some sort of illness called gastrovascular, and his solitude had been completely ruined.

Caspian smiled to himself, wondering how it was that his new family always knew exactly how to keep him content.

I've put it off long enough.

Wed, 09 Jul 2008 19:35:54 GMT

Yup. I'm working on the next chapter of Beast. I've got ~4000 words so far, not that that much will make a scratch in this chapter. :P I've been dragging my heels about working on it, simply because this is going to be the darkest chapter so far (and possibly the darkest in the story). For those of you that felt that the Town wasn't nearly as bad as it was supposed to be... well, last chapter was just the intro. This is so dark in fact that I kind of haven't wanted to write it, so I wouldn't have to put myself through the process. Does anyone else out there write from their gut and feel emptied out after the writing is done? That's how I am. I rarely plan what I write, and so when the happy scenes are done, I feel happy, and the sad scenes leave me sad. This chapter... personally I just didn't want to go where I'm going. But since it is integral to the story, it must be done. *takes a deep breath*

That probably makes no sense does it? But yeah, I am working on it. I promise.

It's a smutty day in the neighborhood...a smutty day for a neighbor

Sat, 05 Jul 2008 14:21:42 GMT

Would Caspian be mine? Would Caspian be mine? I have always to have a Caspian, just like you. I have always wanted to live in a day of smut with you. So let's make the most of this smutiful day, since he's a hottie, I might as well say, would you be mine, would you be mine, oh won't you be my Caspian?

Ha! Get THAT out of your head. ;)

Here's some smut.

Title: Reckoning- a settlement of an account, retribution
Summary: Smutty smut smut
Rating: M, almost NC17
Response to the weekly drabble #5 prompt at susancaspian- Reckoning

Reckoning- A settlement of an account, retribution

Someone had spit on Susan.

Having experienced this once before in her life, when she was a young girl in her first year at boarding school, she did not overreact. In a crowd this size, there was no way of knowing who it had been, and she had already decided to brush it off even before she had wiped the spittle from her brow. Thankfully the King had not seen at the time or there would have been bloodshed in the square. As it was, when a sympathetic Lucy let it slip when they were on their way back at the castle, Caspian was instantly enraged, despite how hard Susan tried to calm him down. He had half a mind to go back and soundly thump every man and woman that had been present there. Susan did not agree. An hour later, as he paced around Susan’s sitting room, he had not let it go.

“Caspian, you have got to stop being so touchy when it comes to me,” Susan sighed. “It doesn’t matter, truly. Not everyone is going to love us being here. It was a single event of no consequence.”

“You take insult as if it is nothing,” he growled in response.

“And you take it as if it is everything,” she came back. “What would you have me say? That it offends me? Of course it does! But sometimes there is nothing you can do.”

“I will do something,” he would not be budged.

“What? Have everyone in that square questioned forcibly until someone breaks? That is not the kind of man you are. That is not the kind of king you are.”

“How do you know the kind of king I am?” he retorted. “Because even I do not know. All I know is that no matter how quiet and controlled I am in every other aspect of my life, when I am with you everything changes. A man insults me and I will take it. A man insults you and I want his head on a stake, and want to use all my power to accomplish it.”

“Caspian…”

“I will have them questioned,” he decided forcefully. “I will have Lord Tenneth start immediately.”

“No. You will not.” There was a tone to her voice that she had never used with him, and it caused him to look up at her. “It is my account to be settled, not yours, and I do not seek retribution.”

“Pardon me?”

“You will not question them, King Caspian,” Susan said firmly. “That is not a request.”

“Your Majesty pulls rank on me?”

“If I have to, to save yourself from embarrassment and cruelty, than yes. I will do that.”

Caspian looked pissed, but he managed to speak civilly. “If your Majesty commands.”

“My Majesty does. Now sit down on the chaise,” she ordered. Furious, he did what she said, because if there had been anything ingrained in the young King, it was how to accept authority. To rule one must be able to be ruled. Susan stood before him, looking as regal as ever. He glared at her, having never been this angry with her.

“Now take off your jerkin.”

Caspian angry expression turned to one of suspicion.

“Why?”

“Because I commanded it of you,” she said in an icy voice. He did as she said, watching her carefully. “Now your tunic.”

Caspian’s eyes widened, then narrowed. He was angry with her, and didn’t feel like playing such games. He started to refuse, but she cut him off.

“Now, King Caspian. Or do I need to have it removed for you?”

“Nay, lady,” Caspian replied finally, his glare softening as he found himself a bit intrigued. She was never one to initiate anything between them, waiting for his kisses and caresses. But today she was obviously in a different mood. Caspian stripped off his tunic, leaving just his white linen shirt.

“That too.”

“Her Majesty requests something that is not proper,” Caspian remarked drily. She smiled smugly at him, and nodded. Eyes locked on her, Caspian took that off as well, leaving himself bare-chested before her.

“Now,” she said softly, walking towards the door and turning the lock. They had learned. His eyes followed her as she moved.

“Now, what? You are acting unlike your usual self,” he told her. Susan just shrugged, her lips curving slightly.

“Must I always play the same role? You get to change yours as often as you change clothes.”

“I am not wearing many clothes at the moment,” Caspian reminded her, making Susan laugh. “And my roles change by necessity, not desire.”

“And today my role changes by both,” she countered, pausing to take a small sip of wine from the glass she’d left on the end table. Caspian couldn’t help notice how she took her time drinking, eyes on his as she did. She was watching him the way a predator does its prey.

“Should I be concerned?” he asked her, curiously. The look in her eyes made think that yes, maybe he should. Susan ignored the question as she set down her glass and approached him.

“Now, these are the rules. You may touch anything you like, but not me,” Susan told him, a wicked little grin playing across her lips. “And not yourself.”

“Not myself?” he tipped his head to the side. “Will I want to?”

“Perhaps…”

Susan looked pointedly at his hands. Caspian raised an eyebrow at her, but then he rested his arms along the back of the chaise, gripping it lightly to show her he was obeying. She sat down next to him, almost primly, but her eyes roamed over his torso, drinking it in.

“You are very sensitive when it comes to me,” she mentioned, referring to earlier. Susan let her fingertips trail down his chest, the nails scraping lightly. She watched his muscles tighten reflexively.

“Aye.” Ahh, monosyllabic. She had his attention.

“I wonder how sensitive…” she murmured, leaning over to brush a kiss against his jaw. He turned into her mouth, but she shook her head. “I touch you, remember?”

His eyes darkened but he said nothing. Caspian did however let out a soft sigh as she kissed her way down his neck. It was awkward reaching him like this, so she moved over, watching the way his eyes widened as she straddled his lap, up on her knees so she wasn’t directly touching him.

“You are very beautiful,” he told her in a husky voice, making her smile.

“And you are easy on the eyes, King of Narnia,” Susan replied, kisses soft against his skin. “Perhaps I should cover my own to not become distracted.”

“Distracted by wha--” his words cut off into a hiss of painful pleasure as the woman on his lap suddenly bit his neck hard with her teeth, sucking on the bruised skin before softening to kiss it once more.

“That… that will leave a mark,” he told her in an unsteady voice, finding himself already completely aroused. Susan smirked.

“It will not be the only one.”

And it wasn’t. She took her time, moving over his arms and chest. Her fingers lightly traced over his skin, searching for any sensitive places, and treating them each the same as his neck. Caspian allowed it, behaving himself although she could tell he wanted to put his hands on her. He was a tactile lover, having been denied so much contact in his life, and he seemed to never be able to stop touching her now that she let him. This was testing his will power, and thus far the King was behaving well, she decided. Obviously she was making it too easy on him.

“What do you want, Caspian?” Susan asked him, feeling him shift beneath her, unconsciously trying to press his hips up to her.

“My lady seems to already understand my desires, better than myself,” he teased back. He was having fun with this.

“Just these touches?” Susan replied as she slowly kissed her way lower, lower than ever before. “A man has greater desires than what you have shown, sir.”

He blinked, and then groaned as her mouth kissed his navel, dipping dangerously low to his waistband. At his groan she paused, and repeated her actions, this time nipping at the skin directly beneath the tip of his waistband, sucking on it equally hard. His hands had tightened on the back of the settee. It was the closest her mouth had ever been to him, and even though they had never explored each other that way, it had been in the back of his mind. She had not seemed ready yet, although Aslan knew he was. The last time they had been close to it, they had been so rudely interrupted… Caspian was starting to realize that his lady had a very direct way of bringing him from his anger. Then her tongue slipped a touch lower than she had kissed and he stopped realizing anything.

“That feels good,” he admitted in a roughened voice, but then his breath hissed between his teeth as he watched Susan kneel between his legs. The implications of that… Susan ran her hands lightly along the tops of his muscular thighs, her eyes never leaving his.

“My queen…” Caspian’s voice had a slight tremor to it, trying to warn her. “My self control only reaches so far.”

“Then we will see how far it reaches,” she replied, pressing feathery kisses down his abdomen as her hands massaged deeper into his legs. Caspian groaned louder this time, and his hips shifted uncomfortably.

“I want to touch you,” he told her heatedly, but she shook her head. Her thumbs moved to stroke the insides of his thighs, pressing lightly into the soft leather. Caspian was starting to understand why she had said he was to touch neither of them. His body was rock hard from desire, and her proximity only made it more impossible to contain himself. This was killing him.

Susan’s mouth once more brushed kisses along his waistband and despite himself Caspian arched towards her, his fingers digging into the couch almost painfully.

“You tease me, lady,” he told her huskily.

“I haven’t even started yet.”

It was true.

Just because Susan had never been one of those girls that gathered in the loo, talking about the secret things they had done with their boyfriends, didn’t mean the Queen was completely oblivious to what made a man tremble. Still, she had no way of knowing that the innocent way she caressed his limbs was as much of a turn on to him than a more direct approach to his arousal. When her hand accidentally brushed too high up his thigh, Caspian sucked in a tight breath and Susan froze. She had thought she wasn’t close enough to that for it to be a problem.

“I am sorry,” she said immediately, flushing beneath his heated gaze.

“I am not,” he whispered, but he made no move to ask her to repeat it. Susan almost did not but he was still doing as she commanded, gripping the cushions instead of coming for her, and it made her bolder. Tentatively she let the back of her hand brush once more against his thigh, were it was thicker and harder. She felt his body twitch beneath her touch, and curiously she did it again with more pressure. This time Caspian couldn’t contain his groan, nor the way his hips shifted in response.

“Does that hurt you?” she asked worriedly, looking up at him at his sound.

“Only in the best of ways,” he managed to get out.

“What do you want?” Susan asked again in a whisper, as if her words were too inappropriate to be spoken any louder. Caspian’s dark eyes glittered.

“Come here,” he told her huskily. “Come up to me.”

Susan did as he asked, once more straddling him as he tilted his head downward, giving her a bruising kiss that she only accepted for a moment before shifting back. She ran her hands along his arms, feeling them shaking with the effort to hold on to the couch.

“Touch me,” he begged softly. “Please, my queen.”

“Where?” Susan asked, knowing the answer already, her fingers tracing down his chest.

“Where I am dying without you,” Caspian gasped as she did as he requested, reaching between them to cup her hand around his hardness. He rolled his hips at the contact, so that more of him was pressed into her palm. It was a strange thing to be touching, even with clothes between them, but she couldn’t pretend that she didn’t enjoy the way she was making him quiver and groan every time she squeezed lightly. Caspian could reach her neck if he dipped his head far enough forward, and he nipped at her sensitive skin. Immediately Susan pulled back, her hand still on his lap, but teasingly light so he could barely feel it.

“I said you could not touch me, Caspian,” she reminded him with a wicked little smile. “Don’t make me punish you.”

“This is not punishment enough?” he growled, although she could tell he was not angry. Just… nearing his limits.

“Not quite.”

Without warning she slipped the fingers of her other hand inside the waistband of his leather trousers, massaging his lower abdominal muscles merely inches from where she knew he wanted her to be. His skin was burning hot beneath her fingers as she continued to lightly tease his length with her palm on the outside of his clothes. The King’s hips bucked up as he bit back a strangled cry. He wanted her hands on him, and she knew it.

“Enough,” Caspian groaned warningly, and she heard the wood inside the backing of the chaise groan in concert as his knuckles went white. Susan wondered if he was actually strong enough to break it. Deciding that she wanted to see, Susan locked eyes with the panting King and slid her hand deeper, her fingers wrapping gently around the base of him. Caspian actually shuddered as her fingers explored how he felt.

“Enough, my Queen,” he gasped, closing his eyes. “I can take no more…”

Susan ran her hand down his length, wondering at how hard it was, never having felt this before. Caspian was arching with each stroke, and she watched him curiously as he bit down on his lower lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. His panting grew strangled as she held him tighter, each stroke faster. She did not know why she did it, but only that he seemed to be unraveling beneath her ministrations, and this was quite fun.

“Lady, please…” Perhaps if she took him a touch farther, moved her hand a little faster…

“ENOUGH!”

She wasn’t sure how it happened, but Susan found herself on her back across the lounge, the King positioned above her. Caspian still did not touch her, but he was everywhere. His muscled arms held him up, fists to either side of her head, knees on the outside on her hips. His whole body was trembling with barely contained desire. She looked up at him with wide eyes, seeing the naked lust in his face, suddenly thinking that this had been a bad idea. He was going to take her now, she could see it in his eyes. She had pushed him too far, she knew she wasn’t ready for this, how stupid could she be… she flinched instinctively as he leaned down.

“Wait…” she started to speak, then fell off. Susan squeezed her eyes shut when she felt Caspian take her face in his hands, touching her for the first time.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded in a heavy voice. She did so, reluctantly to find him gazing down at her passionately but still lovingly. “Do not hide from me, my dearest queen. And do not hide from how you make me feel. You are beautiful and I want you… but more than I want you, I want you to want me.”

“I have not pushed you too far?” she asked worriedly.

“Aye, that you have,” he acknowledged with a shake of his head. “But you shall have my reckoning with you, sweet lady.”

“What do you mean?” Susan asked breathlessly. This was her own game, but now she was starting to wonder. Quite deliberately Caspian gathered her hands in his, positioning them above her head and pinning her wrists with one strong hand. He looked down at her, a wicked smile curving his own lips.

“The rules are these,” he whispered in her ear. “You may not touch me, but you may touch yourself… only if you ask.”

Susan’s eyes widened and she wondered what he meant. Very soon, as she found herself arching and writhing beneath him, begging him to let her go so that she could find some way of easing this torture, the Queen found out exactly what he meant.

----

“Your Majesty, do you want to have the commoners questioned?” Tenneth asked his king late that afternoon, pointedly ignoring the bruise forming on Caspian’s neck.

“Hmmm?”

“The commoners, Sire. You wanted to punish the one that spat on the queen.”

“No, Tenneth,” Caspian shook his head. “I am not to, by orders of her Majesty.”

“Sire?” Tenneth raised an eyebrow. A touch of a secret smile reached Caspian’s lips.

“The Queen and I have had enough of reckoning for one day.”

Allergies = Ugh.

Fri, 04 Jul 2008 01:38:34 GMT

Someone please shoot me now. Or at least, cut off my nose. I've had a wad of tissue stuffed up my nostrils all day. My husband has been grinning since this morning. lol. I know, it's sexy. Dead sexy. But when you've blown your nose a thousand times and its still running, then you just give up and stuff 'em on up there. If you seen a scene in the next chapter with Lu running around the same way, you know my inspiration.

My horse got loose today but we caught him before he got too far down the road. Yay for empty country roads where horses can be caught before they get hit. *pats his nose, which is not running*

Hmmm... Ch11 is out. I haven't heard too much about drunken!Susan being out of character. I half expected it. I started writing an entry for the susancaspian writing prompt Reckoning. The first is flat out smut (definitely out of character, but yummy), and the second ended up having nothing to do with the prompt. Maybe I'll post them as random snippets... I'll start on Ch12 when I'm not so zoned out from allergy medicine.

Finally I wanted some advice. I was reading around and I found that someone has used one of my original characters without asking. It kinda bummed me out but flattered me at the same time. It's possible that they came up with the same name at the same time I did (or before me and I ripped them off? But I think mine was out first...). It could be just coincidence... but a Mouse named Peepicheek (mine) and a Mouse named Peepiceek (theirs) are so similar. Maybe they thought Peepicheek was canon and didn't realize? :( I don't want to be the kind of person that throws a fit and I'm not mad, I guess I just wish they'd asked first. So unless told otherwise I'm going to assume it was an accident or coincidence. Plus I can't say much, I'm totally ripping off CS Lewis with this fanfic. It's hypocritical to have a problem with it, isn't it? *shrugs* Oh well, I'm over it.

I'm an IDIOT. So guess what? That name I spent an hour coming up with for my Mouse was ACTUALLY the name of a canon Mouse. *smacks forehead* I was so proud of it too. I retract my rant, and apologize to said author for my stupidity.

The dogs ate a hole in my wall.

Sat, 28 Jun 2008 16:55:46 GMT

Yeah. Big enough that my husband can stick his fist through it. I think my puppies have just become outside dogs. I suppose that's what you get when you have two 7 month old pitbull/akitas. Thank goodness I have one red dog that behaves. I don't know what breed, but she is red. Like a firehydrant. Or an apple. Or Peter's face when he's pissy. Bright red.  As the eloquent one in the family I got to name her. I have named her Red Dog.

I love that dog.

Back to the point.  I'm working on Beast again, chapter eleven.  I'm hoping for it to be a much more lighthearted chapter, even though some Things should come to light, and Edmund does enter the Town.

Here's a little clippet.

“Here you go,” Lucy said to Caspian, who found himself now holding a scrawny little kitten (or Kitten) in his arms. The kitten looked dubiously at him, as if she didn’t really believe he was up to the task, then promptly dug its claws into his arm and went to sleep. Caspian winced.

“Are you sure, Lu?” Caspian wondered, adjusting it uncomfortably. "I am not good with holding small things, they tend to break.”

“Might not want to plan on having kids with this one,” Peter muttered to Susan, who was trying to look offended and not laugh. Caspian overheard and went pale.

“Does that happen?” he asked worriedly, causing Peter to snort and swing up on his waiting Horse. He pulled Lucy up behind him and grinned.

“Think of it as a test run, mate,” he told his friend. “You’ll get in a lot less trouble breaking my sister’s kitten then my nephew or niece.”

“He’s going to break my kitten?” Lucy asked in dismay. “Why didn’t anyone tell me that?!” She could be heard exclaiming as they rode out of the palace.

“Well, looks like it’s just you and me,” Susan said with a grin. Caspian grimaced and held the kitten up in one hand at eye level.

“And this too,” he added, sounding quite nervous.

The kitten mewed.

Tastey

Fri, 27 Jun 2008 22:58:04 GMT

Let's see if I can remember how to do this. This ficlet is for the week 4 drabble at susancaspian. It is rated a strong M.

Taste

The King was in a fury.

Susan realized this as soon as she saw him striding down the hall, jerking off his riding gloves roughly as he headed straight for her. At his side a Wolf trotted, her grimace matching the King’s expression perfectly. As Caspian got closer, Susan realized that he was dressed for fighting and was very dirty, as if he had been rolling around on the ground. She had no way of knowing that he had, and no way of knowing that the event that caused it was the reason why he was in such a temper.

“Caspian?” She took a step towards him, then found herself being hustled along next to him, her hand firmly in his grasp as he walked. There was blood from a small cut across his forehead, making his darkened skin seem even darker. “What happened?”

“I do not wish to speak of it,” Caspian said shortly, heading directly to his chambers. “Are you required anywhere just now?”

“No…” Susan was confused. He held open the door for her, and she passed through, not realizing that the Wolf had positioned itself outside. “Why, do you need me for something?”

“Aye.” As soon as the door closed, he rounded on her. Susan had about one moment of coherent thought before Caspian had crushed her to him, his mouth coming down on hers. The kiss was hard and it bruised her lips before he pulled away. Just as quickly as he had grabbed her, Caspian released her, turning and moving deeper into his chambers. Gasping for breath, Susan followed slowly, watching the King as he paced back and forth, dropping his gloves on an ornate oak desk.

“You know, I am seriously considering abandoning centuries of tradition and just running a sword through the gut of the next man that crosses my path.” Caspian unbuckled his sword as if it was the one to have offended him.

“That’s… very Mouse-like of you,” Susan tried to joke, but he only grunted.

“If I were a Mouse, I could get away with it. No, I am a King of Narnia, and must eat insults like they are breakfast toast.” Susan knew better than to point out that Caspian actually never did eat toast for breakfast, preferring plain bread instead, but considering the clang of his sword as it hit next to the gloves, it probably wasn’t the best time to bring it up. “Help me, please.”

Susan moved closer, understanding the request. His chain mail hauberk was tedious to pull off himself, and did not just peel off as easily as a regular shirt did. Su grabbed the mail at the shoulders, tugging as Caspian bent over slightly and wiggled his way out of it. The motion pulled his linen shirt, revealing the King’s hardened stomach muscles briefly before it dropped back down as he straightened. Susan tried not to blush, but it was too late. He had caught her staring. Caspian raised an eyebrow at her. Then, quite deliberately, he pulled the shirt over his head, wadded it up in a ball, and tossed it in the corner. Susan gulped.

Maybe it was time to be going.

“One of these days my patience will be at an end,” Caspian cut off her thoughts of escape by continuing speaking. There was a wash bowl in the corner, and he headed that way, leaning over the bowl and splashing water over his head and arms. She tried to ignore the way his now wet dark hair clung to his neck, and she definitely was trying to not look below his chin. But the way he kept pacing around made that extremely hard. Excessive sword fighting and grueling battles just does things to a body… especially one as young and fit as the King had started with before being driven into exile.

“Who has been pushing your patience?” Susan managed to ask, as the King poured himself a glass of wine then poured another. He walked back to her and handed her the glass. Susan wondered if was deliberately placing himself in front of her, just to drive her crazy.

“Who hasn’t?” Caspian replied, his words a bit softer than before. Susan caught the double meaning, and then flushed even deeper. If only the King knew how hard it had been on her, controlling her own desires. Times like this didn’t help. Caspian gave her a touch of a quirky smile, then retreated to his bedchamber. He returned with a fresh shirt in his hands.

“Your cut is still bleeding,” Susan told him, trying to busy herself. “Let me see it.”

Caspian nodded and sat down on the settee, pulling the new shirt on, and Susan silently rebuked herself for feeling disappointed. He shouldn’t have been undressed like that in front of her in the first place. He might be courting her, but it was not proper. Still...

“How did this happen?” Susan asked, sitting down next to him with a cloth and pressing it to his forehead. She almost wished he would have winced, or done something besides just look at her with those dark eyes.

“I got in a fight,” he finally admitted. “A bit of a brawl actually.”

“You’re the King!” Susan was shocked. “How does the King of Narnia get into a brawl?”

“Quiet easily, it seems,” Caspian joked, then quieted under her un-amused look. “And I already said that I am growing tired of accepting insults in the name of patience with my people. I will only accept so much, and today I reached my limit.”

“Which lord was it?” Susan asked, dabbing the cloth to see if the bleeding had stopped. It had, almost. Caspian muttered something, which she couldn’t quite hear. “What was that?”

“It was no lord. It was a Black Dwarf.”

Susan lowered her cloth.

“You got in a brawl with a Dwarf. In full armor. While on patrol with your entire guard?”

“You make it sound silly,” Caspian practically glared at her, seeing the grin come to her face. “I had my reasons.”

“Please tell me it wasn’t me this time.”

“No,” Caspian declared stubbornly. Then he seemed to wilt. “It was Lucy.”

Susan stood up and started laughing softly. “I swear, you get into more trouble because of her. If she wasn’t my sister and half your age, I would almost be jealous.”

Caspian stood and followed, reaching for Susan and putting his hands on her waist. “The queen has nothing to fear. Lucy is the sister I never had, and my heart’s affections lie where they always have. No other woman can change them.”

“Hmmm…” Susan put her palms against Caspian’s chest and went up on her tiptoes to kiss him. He kissed her back, still with more aggression than normal. Once more she broke away breathless.

“You are in a mood today.” She ran her hands down his chest, to his stomach. She couldn’t help it, not since getting her first glimpse of it. She felt him tighten reflexively at her touch.

“Aye,” he had a tendency to become monosyllabic when they were close. Caspian threaded his fingers through her hair, tilting her head back as he kissed her hungrily. His whole life he had never been touched, not really, not even held or hugged since his nurse had been sent away. Contact was still strange to him, but he drank it up like a man starving for water. He pushed against her, tracing his fingers along her arm in wordless askance for her touch. Unable to refuse, Susan slipped her hands beneath the white fabric of his shirt, nails brushing low on his stomach. Caspian let out a soft groan, knowing that she had no clue how that small movement made his whole body burn.

“We probably shouldn’t be doing this,” Susan whispered, tipping her head back as he kissed down her neck. “It’s not proper.”

“I do not care,” Caspian suddenly growled, advancing on her so that she was forced to step backwards. Three steps and her back hit the doorframe to his bedchamber. “I am done doing things the way that I am expected to.”

Maybe she should have been scared at the predatory way he was looking at her, but this was Caspian, and Susan knew he would never hurt her. He just… wanted her. The realization of that made her shiver. It had been a lifetime ago, when she had been looked at like this. It was something that she had missed, being in the arms of someone much stronger and much more dangerous than herself. Flirting along the edge of passion, teasing a potential lover to see how much they could take before they broke. How much before she herself broke. Susan had never given in… but she had been close. And the way he was staring down at her, arms on either side of her head, boxing her in. Caspian was waiting for her, as if he could read her thoughts. She had never even let herself slip a little around him.

Maybe it was time she did.

“When I kiss you, I am not going to stop for a long time,” Caspian warned her in a heavy voice, his eyes sliding down the curve of her breasts, her stomach, her hips. Just his gaze had her on fire. “As you say, it will not be proper.”

“Oh, bother proper,” Susan heard herself say as she moved forward and grabbed his face, pulling him down to her. Half a breath later she found herself swept off her feet, her back once more to the doorframe as Caspian picked her up. He bit her lower lip lightly, causing her to open her mouth, then he deepened the kiss eagerly. Susan’s legs tightened around his waist as he shifted her sideways and through the door, kicking it closed with his foot as he did. Despite his obvious passion, Caspian laid her down lightly on his bed, carefully so that her head came to rest on a pillow. Susan moaned slightly as she felt him stretch out alongside her, the weight of his body pressing her back into the bedding. His hands ran over her sides, back and forth from ribcage to hip, as if he desperately wanted to touch her but was holding himself back.

“I want to look at you,” Susan whispered, shocked at her own boldness. “Please, Caspian.”

He looked askance at her, then nodded, understanding. It had never occurred to him until today that she might want to see him just as badly as he wanted to see her. Caspian sat up, knees to either side of her hips, never breaking eye contact as he once more bared his torso. If he felt any embarrassment as being like this in front of her, it was drowned beneath his pleasure at the expression on her face. Her emotions flickered back and forth, playing across her features, at once nervousness and then desire. Susan’s eyes travelled over him, down his shoulders and lower. Her gaze stopped at his leather breeches, low enough on his hips that the exposed abdominal muscle drew her eyes dangerously low.

Taking her hands in his, to sooth her racing heart as much as his own, Caspian entwined their fingers. They held still like that until Susan blushed and smiled shyly up at him. Caspian found himself chuckling deep in his throat, and he leaned down to kiss her once more, bringing her hands back to him as he did. Susan traced light patterns across his stomach and Caspian kissed her jaw, then her ear, then her shoulder.

“I would ask to look at you as well, my queen,” Caspian murmured huskily as his mouth moved over the exposed top of her breast. Susan hesitated. Not that she hadn’t known he would want to, what with him carrying her into his bad and all, but still. She had only been this brazen once, and that was two lifetimes ago. Also, once a corset was unlaced, there was no quick retying of it. The man above her took her face in his hands and kissed her gently, taking her hesitation as a no.

“I can wait,” Caspian said, trying not to sound disappointed.

“You will have to re-lace me,” Susan told him in a shy voice. “There’s really no hiding it.”

Caspian sucked in a tight breath and nodded. He sat back as Susan pushed off the bedding and sat at the edge of the bed, her back to him. She wore a thin blue shift beneath her corset, and his fingers trembled just slightly as he slowly loosened the laces that held the corset tight about her. Caspian brushed his lips across her shoulder and he leaned into her as his hands reached around her bodice, one by one unfastening the stays. When the last one fell, and he pulled her corset away, neither one moved. Susan could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

“You are beautiful,” Caspian whispered in her ear, and Susan blushed, but she also sighed in relief of the tension breaking.

“You haven’t even seen me yet,” she replied archly. Caspian wrapped his arm around her waist, for the first time with only a thin piece of fabric between them.

“I do not need to,” he replied honestly. She could feel him smiling against her shoulder. “But I still want to.”

Nodding, Susan did as the King requested, and slid her shift off. It would be something that he would never share with a living soul, but the single most erotic sight in his entire life was that one, watching over her shoulder as she disrobed for him.

“You are so soft,” Caspian whispered as he allowed his hands to run over stomach and sides. He wondered what she thought of his hands, if she hated how battle roughened they were. Susan loved them. In fact, she leaned back into his chest, letting his hands roam at will. She reached one arm up, gripping his hair lightly, wondering if it had felt this good way back then. He still hadn’t touched her anywhere else and Susan shifted deeper into his embrace.

“Caspian… you can touch me, if you want.”

“I am afraid,” he murmured huskily. “That I will never be able to pull myself away from you again if I do.”

“Didn’t you warn me about that before this started?” Susan asked, then she twisted slightly so that the weight of her breast was in his hand. Caspian exhaled sharply, then sighed as he brought his other hand up. At his exploratory touches, Susan found herself shifting in response. She was breathing heavier, arching back and inadvertently rubbing against him. Unable to contain himself, Caspian pulled her back down to the bed, rolling her beneath him and replacing his hands with his mouth. Susan gave a little cry and arched up, her hands on his head, twisting beneath him. Her breathing had become hard pants, like she was running. Caspian pushed her skirts upwards enough to hook her knee, giving her a firm tug and easily repositioning her where he wanted her. Where he wanted her was completely beneath him, her knees on either side of his hips as he ground down into her.

“This... is… not… proper,” Susan managed to gasp before she moaned, her body trembling as Caspian pressed her knees open more.

“Tell me, and I will stop,” he promised, although by his tone it would be the hardest thing he had ever done. He rocked his body against hers, never having hated clothing as much in his life as he did now.

“Stop and you will be in so much trouble…”

Caspian chuckled, but the look in his eyes when he met Susan’s was very intent. He watched her face, gauging her reaction as he ran his thumb over her knee, once more waiting for the go ahead. Susan went a bit still, but then she nodded. She bit her lip a bit worriedly, and he leaned down to kiss her tenderly.

“I will stop if you need it. I will not hurt you, but I will not press you either,” Caspian promised her.

“I trust you,” Susan whispered, closing her eyes as she relaxed down into the bed, letting him have complete control. Deciding that he was the luckiest man alive, Caspian slid his hand down her thigh---

Knock knock knock

Caspian froze, his face going from one of passion, to one of surprise, then to one of growing anger. The last part came as a voice echoed through the door.

“Your Majesty, I must speak with you. It is urgent!” The unmistakable nasal voice of Lord Baerd could be heard. Which meant it was only urgent to him.

“How did he even get past the Wolf?” Susan wondered, before realizing the incredibly compromising position that she was in. Growing crimson, she attempted to find her shift as Caspian rolled off of her, growling.

“I am busy, my lord. Leave. NOW,” Caspian snapped, loudly enough to be heard through the door. Unable to find her shift, Susan whimpered and hid under the blankets, as much from her embarrassment as from the expression on Caspian’s face.

“Your Majesty! I insist on speaking with you now! I insist!”

“He’s going to come in!” Susan squeaked, and true enough the door started to open.

You have to forgive Lord Baerd, because up until this point, the Lords of the Council had almost constant access to Caspian at their will, and Caspian had missed a rather important meeting with him. Plus Caspian had never been the type of young man to keep company. But you definitely have to forgive Caspian, because if the Lord had seen who lay in his bed, it would have made a world of trouble for Susan and her family. Susan didn’t know that Caspian could move that fast. But one moment he was in bed next to her, and the next he had met Lord Baerd in the doorway, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him forcibly back out before he could even take one step inside.

“Your Majesty!” Baerd sounded shocked a moment before he sounded in pain as his back slammed into the top of Caspian’s desk. Holding the older man bent over backwards with one arm, Caspian drew his sword with the other and placed it across his throat.

“One time and one time only, my lord,” Caspian snarled. “From this day you do not even think about entering my chambers uninvited. Have I made myself clear?”

“Y-yes, sire!” Baerd practically squeaked, completely taken aback by the young King’s sudden lack of leniency and excess of violence.

“Get out.”

Baerd did just that. Caspian gave the Wolf a pointed look, and she put her head down on her paws embarrassedly as he re-shut the door. This time Caspian locked it. Susan had managed to re-clothe herself as best she could by this point, and she watched her lover carefully as he returned, locking the bedroom door as well.

“It is alright, he did not see me,” Susan tried to soothe him as Caspian sat down behind her. She had re-fastened her corset ties but needed him to lace her back up.

“That is not the point,” Caspian growled. “One day…” he drifted off as he concentrated on her laces. When he was done, Susan turned around and kissed him softly, understandingly.

“One day I will give them a taste of what it really means for me to be their king,” Caspian said in a hard voice, standing up. Susan kissed him a second time, then headed for the door. She paused as she unlocked it, looking back over her shoulder and giving him a tiny grin.

“Perhaps one day you will give me a taste as well.” Then she was off, leaving Caspian to stare at where she had been, realizing too late what his queen had meant. Then he started to smile, despite himself.

One day. He could wait for both.

Go go gadget plotbunny!

Fri, 27 Jun 2008 17:10:06 GMT

Or maybe not. I've been trying to see if I could finish a fic in a month, and I don't think I'm going to make it. The Beast just became too much of a beast.

Reepicheep: What's that supposed to be, irony?

Hush Reepicheep. Anyway, here I sit, trying to decide if I want to write the next chapter (I'm a bit burned out on the last) or write for the most recent susancaspian prompt "Taste". Unfortunately everything I think up is so incredibly dirty. lol. Pwp all the way. Hmmmm... I'm pooped from working out so maybe I'll just veg out, listen to the thunderstorm and dig shamelessly for Suspian fics.

Arise livejournal! Be alive! monster music

Thu, 26 Jun 2008 23:29:05 GMT

So I'm trying to resurrect this thing. My intent is to use it as a place to chat about my newest fic, The Lost Chronicles of Narnia: The Beast of Witherby. Currently I'm up to my eyeballs in chapter 10 after having family visit for a week and a half. That's why updates have been going so slow. Technically I have plenty for a new chapter to be done now, but I feel as if I should put Edmund in there, and he's got this whole big thing going on right now. So who knows how freaking long this chapter will be before I am done? :P But I'm working on it. 20 pages and counting. This one has bogged me down a lot. The politics get messy and convoluted, to the point that I have to stop and think before I write, to make sure I'm keeping everything straight. I don' t have a written storyboard, so my brain is holding all the little details I'm trying to keep straight. *reaches for an aspirin* I'll have more to say when it is done, I don't want to comment on it then change what I had written anyways. ^.^

It's a beautiful day...to write Leo getting all violent. ^.^

Thu, 20 Mar 2008 18:23:46 GMT

Yup. lol. Here's a clippet of the next chapter of Leader in case they want to see it.

Leader

Chapter Three

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

The thought rang through Leonardo’s head as he dived forward, barely reaching the cover of an armored truck as gunfire peppered the ground at his heels. Pausing for a second to try and get his breath, the turtle craned his head over the hood, hoping to get a glimpse of someone he recognized in all this mess. But too much smoke filled the air, courtesy of an explosion that he had been cursing Booker for since it happened. Normally Leonardo appreciated the cover of smoke, in fact he preferred it. Unfortunately all the smoke was over there. And he was over here. If ever a turtle was a sitting duck, this one was. Inside his head, Mikey laughed at the thought, but Leo pushed that aside as he was forced to duck a second time, bullets ricocheting past his head.

Oh yeah. Bad idea.

“It’ll be easy, they said,” Leonardo growled sarcastically under his breath, gritting his teeth as he crawled towards the back of the truck. “Just have to get the guy out. We’ll cause a distraction as you slip in.” A whistling noise filled the air and Leo flung himself away from the protection of the truck, rolling and covering his head protectively as the vehicle burst into flames, the force of the explosion lifting it up three feet in the air before dropping it. The turtle stared at it in disbelief, before instincts told him that moving now would be a very very good idea.

“Piece of cake!” Someone shouted at him as they dashed past, grabbing him by the shoulder and propelling him forward towards the corner of an outlying shed. Nick. Son of a…

“I hate you all,” Leonardo told the human flatly, who only laughed and disappeared back into the madness. The turtle drew both katana slowly. There were about twenty men between him and the building he was supposed to have so easily snuck inside. Which he could have done, if he had been with his brothers instead of these psychopaths. But he was committed now, and as irritated as he was, Leonardo had given his word that he would help the soldiers rescue this man. Do a good deed, and earn himself enough of their trust that they would let him leave un-harried. That’s all he wanted. Unfortunately the guerrillas all around them wanted something else, and they had guns to back up their desires. Glancing at the target building, Leo wondered how in the world he was going to make it there. There was no cover and thirty yards is a lifetime when there’s that many hostiles all around you.

“Go! I’ll cover you!” a voice yelled, who he didn’t know. Cursing once more at the stupidity of this all, Leonardo waited until the gunfire rang from beside him and not in front of him, and then he made a break for the building.

It was the longest four seconds of his life.

“Stupid stupid stupid STUPID!” Leonardo yelled at himself as he ran, hearing the bullets whiz by his ears. His heart was thundering in his chest and he never even stopped to think. In front of the building was a stack of crates and Leo planted his foot on them, twisting up into the air, body spinning as he crashed through a second story window. He rolled as he landed, right foot extended in front of him, arms outstretched to either side, katana drawn and ready. Glass glittered on green skin as he raised his eyes to the room, ready.

-----

“Woah,” Booker said, eyes wide as he watched the turtle man jump like a gymnast and disappear through the glass. “That was cool.”

“Must not like getting shot at,” Nick grinned evilly, an empty clip in his teeth as he shoved a full one in the chamber and continued to shoot.

-----

OWWW!

Sun, 16 Mar 2008 19:58:20 GMT

I got stepped on by my horse, right on the achille's heel. Now my whole foot is swollen and numb. stupid horse. *pouts and works on tmnt fic*

Beer bad!

Sat, 15 Mar 2008 03:20:08 GMT

Hehehe. Gotta love the Buffy references. So here's something that I intended for Ghost of the Dawn's 2007 fanfic contest. But I didn't get it finished. Oh well.

Simple Truths

We never told her it would be easy. We never told her that being our friend would mean that she would always be safe, or that she would never know pain or fear or sadness. We never promised that she wouldn’t go hungry because of us, or that she would never lose something she loved at our hands. We never gave her the security that she was denied as a child, and we never showed her that the world was a place full of love and hope.

But only god knew how hard we tried.

She’s curled up in a ball in the corner of the cabin, trying to get some sleep right now. It’s been a rough night. Cye was hurt badly, and it’s especially hard for her to see him in pain. She tried not to cry and we appreciated it. Our choices are tough enough without having to see them reflected in her eyes. Some nights we don’t even look at her. We don’t want to see the truth of ourselves there. Because the truth is that heroes are only heroes in stories. In real life, danger and bravery go hand in hand with sacrifice and sheer desperation. We sink within the protection of our armors and flirt with death like men who have resigned themselves to nothing better for themselves. Like a cruel lover that comes and goes, taking us to the edge before flitting away like a shadow. Always there, watching and waiting, always wanting. She knows this about us, even though she never brings it up. Why should she? It only makes her cry to see that reality and we hate to see her cry.

We love her too much.

We should have let her go years ago. She should have walked away from us, or we should have forced her to go. But we were kids, fearless and sure, and we felt like we could take on anything. With our loved ones at our sides, there was nothing we couldn’t face. We were strong and knowing her made us even stronger. Like our team mascot that cheered us and held us tighter together. But time brings wisdom, and wisdom never comes cheap. I remember the exact moment when wisdom came, as I stared out at the destruction caused by our armors in an attempt to rescue her. I remember the triumph in my enemy’s eyes. They might have lost that fight but they had won something so much more important. We had friends. We had lovers. We had weaknesses, and they knew how to get to us now. My courage slipped that day.

We fight almost every week now. The semblance of a normal life has slipped away from us, replaced by threadbare first aid kits that we don’t have time to restock, replaced by mortgages that can’t be paid because of jobs that are lost. Careers and hope buried beneath injuries and exhaustion, ignored and finally let go. I used to dream of a home of my own, near the ocean where I could spend my days in peace. Now I dream that I will make it one more night without losing my friends. That we might…just might finally win this battle that never ends. I could be happy with that; I could die in peace knowing that she would live in a world that didn’t need people like us to bleed for it. That people like her could finally be safe.

Mia died a year ago today. We didn’t talk about it because there was nothing left to say. We said our goodbyes a year ago and we moved on. It seemed callous but we had no to. Debilitating grief has never been an option for us. We had to choose, her or the world. We chose the way we were supposed to, but that didn’t make it stop feeling like we had destroyed a part of ourselves in the process. We buried her next to her grandfather high on that hill she loved. I wanted to go see her today, but it wasn’t meant to be. Today I had the living to protect.

The living is shivering in the corner, the sheet of red hair not a good blanket in the cold. I catch Rowen’s eye and we stare at each other silently. He looks tired and pale, paler than normal. He’d been the one to sew up Sage’s leg and that always leaves him queasy. Six years ago he would have thrown up. Tonight he had just gritted his teeth and pulled the needle through torn skin as gently as possible. Afterwards he always needs time to recover, but she’s cold and he’s the closest. There’s more to it than that, but I ignore the unacknowledged part regularly. Rowen heaves himself to his feet with a sigh, shuffles to the corner, then drops down beside her. She opens green eyes and looks at him questioningly, to which he just shakes his head and curls around her. Whatever passes between them is their business. We have long stopped trying to convince Rowen that she’s a bad idea for him. Or vice versus, to be honest. Rowen will get her killed, and he’s going to die trying to save her.

We should have let her go.

Cye’s breathing is growing shallow and I close my eyes, listening to the sound. If it gets much worse, Sage will have to heal him. I don’t want that to happen. As cruel as it sounds, I need Sage’s sword arm more than I need a weakened Cye, and Sage is too tired to heal and still fight. The reality is that I need them both, that I might need them any second now if a counter attack comes, and can’t afford the loss of either. I close my eyes and let myself drift back to a different time, when the hard was still easy and the good was standard, not a luxury. I think of sweat without blood, playing soccer in the back practice field at the high school. I hear the laughter of friends who had yet to…see what we have seen. I smell the scent of jasmine shampoo, mingling in our nostrils tantalizingly, reminding us that she was one of us but something even more. I remember brown eyes and the first time soft lips touched mine. I remember how relentlessly I pursued those lips afterwards, despite warnings from my friends and her. I remember slumping on Cye’s front porch, broken hearted two years later, slim arms and red hair around me telling me that everything would be okay, that I would meet someone new. There was never someone new for me. She was wrong. She’s been wrong about a lot of things.

She’s calmer now, despite the daily trials that we put her through. There’s a hope in her that only grows as ours fades. I know why Rowen hangs on to her so tightly, why he’s always hung onto her since high school. She’s implacable. She doesn’t give up. She has yet to be pushed to her breaking point, close but not quite, and she soldiers on relentlessly. She believes in us as much as she did from the start. She still teases us and pokes fun, like nothing’s changed. She still drives Cye crazy with her recklessness, and bugs Sage with her precociousness. But her personality is milder, quieter, and she is content to merely be a part of our world. I wish she wasn’t, as much as I love her. I pretend sometimes that it’s Rowen that keeps her holding on so tightly to us. That way I’m not responsible for this, for these situation, for her. But I am because I know she’s here for me as much as anyone else. She’s always loved us equally. Differently, maybe, but equally.

That shouldn’t make me feel like crying, but it does.

Rowen’s holding her tighter but his eyes are open and I can tell that he is listening hard. Violet eyes are glued to the door and even Cye has quieted. I feel what they feel. It’s a prickling on the back of my neck, like fingernails of a lover scratching lightly. I shift forward slightly, feeling the energy curl through me as I open myself to my surroundings. I can sense him out there and he’s coming fast. Two more minutes and the fight will be on our doorstep. Two more minutes…I look at Rowen and say nothing. Let her sleep. Two more minutes of peace. I can’t give her much, but I can give her that.

Two. One and a half. One. One half.

I rise smoothly to my feet, seeing the other mirror me. Cye’s on his knees but upright. His eyes gleam in the darkness as he grips his yari. Injured or not he’s ready. She raises her head, blinking tiredly, confused momentarily. Then the door flies open, an orange armored body falling back through. Blood droplets hit the wooden floor, staining them forever, and Kento growls as he shoves the door behind him closed.

“Incoming guys!” he snarls, bracing the door as a horrific roar fills the empty silence. She’s reaching for a knife but she’ll never get a chance to use it as we form a protective ring around her, weapons drawn and faces grim. Us before her. Us before them all.

We never promised we could give her anything. But this much? This we could do.

Howdy y'all!

Sat, 15 Mar 2008 02:51:34 GMT

Yup, I finally have a livejournal account. So here's where I'll post all the little stuff that I work on when I have lulls between updates. It's usually Ronin warriors or TMNT stuff. So...yeah. :)

em_teardrops

Beast Update

The plotbunnies need to leave me be. >.< *arms shotgun*

Drug or Dragged?

Kitten!Caspian

()_()............()_()...........()_()

Chapter 12 countdown... when will it ever end?!!!!???!!!

New oneshot

I've put it off long enough.

It's a smutty day in the neighborhood...a smutty day for a neighbor

Allergies = Ugh.

The dogs ate a hole in my wall.

Tastey

Go go gadget plotbunny!

Arise livejournal! Be alive! *monster music*

It's a beautiful day...to write Leo getting all violent. ^.^

OWWW!

Beer bad!

Howdy y'all!

The plotbunnies need to leave me be. >.< arms shotgun

Arise livejournal! Be alive! monster music