Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane

Fan Fiction inspired by The Chronicles

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Re: Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane

Post by Ajnos » Wed Jun 04, 2014 7:02 pm

Hi Hobbit. Thanks for sharing your fics. Sorry to get all admin-y but could you try and format your stories with paragraphs when you post them here. Just makes for easier reading. If you need help with the formatting just PM me and I'll help. You should have an option to edit the posts you've already made.

Thanks.
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Re: Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane

Post by hobbit_of_narnia » Wed Jun 04, 2014 7:25 pm

Okay. I copied them from a document and thought they'd automatically paragraph themselves...I'll see if I can fix them.
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Re: Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane

Post by albero1 » Wed Jun 04, 2014 7:38 pm

@Lil: Oh yes. :D She is a LOVELY writer. (hint, hint, Hobbit. Rise of Valence. Need to post. :mrgreen: )
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Re: Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane

Post by lilliandil » Thu Jun 12, 2014 10:23 am

'Remember' is a beautiful story. It made me cry. And I hardly ever cry.
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Re: Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane

Post by hobbit_of_narnia » Sat Jun 14, 2014 8:33 pm

Oh, wow. I hardly ever make anyone cry with my stories. :shock:

This one is called "Through the Sunrise". One of my insane fanfics.


“Way, way, for the Tarkaan Kalimir!”

Annoyed, I again moved to the side of the road. I was crammed between a woman holding a screaming child, and a man reeking even more of garlic and fish than most of us other Calormenes. I would be glad when I could get through Tashbaan. I had to pass through it every few weeks because of my job and so I was used to the crowd and the constant making way for Tarkaans and Tarkheenas, but today was the worst. If I felt like trying to count how many times I’d had to stop and move to the side of the road just on this street, I’d have to take off my shoes and count everything twice. On the other hand, if I decided to count how many steps I’d been able to take between each of those stops, I’d only need one hand. I growled as I saw another litter coming in sight around the bend ahead.

Then I heard a loud voice rising above the general ruckus of the crowd. It had a rather whiny tone, and I couldn’t exactly say it sounded very agreeable. When I finally made it around the corner ahead, I could see the speaker.

He would have had light skin like the people who live to the North, if it had not been so darkly tanned. I guessed he’d lived here in Calormen for many years. He was standing on a heap of stones piled against a building, and there was an interested circle of people clustered around him. I joined them.

“The sun got bigger every day, whiter and hotter, and more unbearable,” the man was saying. “The water gleamed and sparkled and sent up a heat of its own. There was no way to escape from the light. It penetrated every part of the ship. The galley, the cabins, the hold, everywhere. Every morning the white birds flew straight out of the sun and went over us, flying towards the west. A few minutes later, back they would come, singing their strange, evil song, and fly back to their home in the sun.”

I leaned over to the man next to me and asked, “Who is that?”

“He’s a sailor,” he whispered back. “He sailed to the end of the world on a voyage with the king of Narnia on the Narnian ship the Dawn Treader years ago.”

I nodded and turned my attention again to the speaker.

“The water grew deeper, and deeper, and deeper, until you couldn’t see the bottom of the sea. And yet it grew clearer, and clearer, and clearer, and the ship raced along like the wind, yet without the wind, as there was no wind but what we made ourselves by our sailing. The magic of the last sea was pushing us relentlessly toward the edge of the world. The water flashed and glittered and the sun bore down ominously until the light and the heat were too much to bear. Before long, it became too bright to see anything. All we could see was white. But one day, the light broke and we could see each other and the ship again. Behind us was what seemed a white wall of light that fell from the peak of the sky, and we realized we’d reached the other side of the sunrise.”

Someone behind me made a stifled choking sound, but I was too spellbound by the sailor who had gone to the last sea to turn and see who it was. The speaker went on.

“But still the magic of the sea pushed us onward, faster and faster. There was no way to stop. Our sail billowed out full behind us from the speed at which we were going, but it slowed us not a bit. On and on we went. We never saw the white birds any more, because the sun never passed overhead now, but rose behind us and made its way west. The light grew dimmer every day as we got further and further from the place where it rose, and still the water grew deeper, and deeper, and deeper, until it was deeper than the world is wide.”

The person behind me snorted. I wondered how he couldn’t believe the sailor, who spoke so fervently.

“Ahead of us, the horizon continued on and on. There was no end of it, no land in sight. On and on, for days and days, caught in the last sea, endlessly sailing on and on, away from the sun, away from our homes (which by this time were thousands and thousands of leagues behind us and which we had not seen for a year), away from everything everyone has ever known. All that was there was water. Only water, and the light, which was daily growing less, and us. Just us, a small ship in an endless ocean, caught in the endless sea at the edge of the world, rushing, rushing, rushing, towards the edge of the world, unstoppable, helpless, hopeless. We were sure every day that this would be our last. But every day the magic pushed us more swiftly, until we were going so fast that the ship was barely skimming along the top of the water. Then one day, we saw ahead of us, stretching from horizon to horizon, a streak of black. It was difficult to see, for by now the light had grown so dim that we needed lights on the ship at all times except for at high noon. We tried to slow ourselves, but it was no use. The black streak thickened and grew by the minute, and we feared lest we might run against it, but there was nothing we could do. As it came nearer, we saw that it reached to the sky, just as the wall of white had, when we passed through the sunrise, yet we still could not see what this black wall was. And yet on it came, faster and faster, until the ship suddenly ceased its eastward rush and we saw (when it was but a league away) that the blackness was nothing. It was the lack of light, darkness itself, in its solid form.”

The man behind me seemed to have gotten some smoke in his face; in any chance, he was coughing rather hoarsely. The speaker went on.

“We rowed slowly forward, until we reached the wall of nothing. They let the boat down, which those in it steered right into the wall and disappeared. They returned soon and we took them back up and rowed into the blackness. For two days and a night we continued through it, and would have seen neither each other’s faces nor anything of the ship but for the lanterns we had on the prow and stern, and we were afraid we were traveling in circles. But finally we broke out of the blackness, and ahead there lay a sea of white water, and we wondered if this was yet another last sea which we had just entered. And above us there stood another sun, which glinted off of the water and blinded us after being in the blackness. And still there was no wind. Far ahead of us we could see a crystal-blue island sitting on the horizon and—”

Suddenly the man behind me called out, “I say, friend, what happened when you turned and came back?”

The speaker, still speaking to his audience in general, said, “When we finally returned to Narnia, the king, who had promised every one of us homes, land, and gold, and an honorable place in his court, turned me away unjustly and denied ever having told me such, although he’d given the others their share. When I reminded him of his promise, he grew angry and threatened to have me imprisoned, and I was forced to flee here. I—”

Suddenly the man behind me burst into peals of laughter. I turned, irritated, to see who it was and saw a light-skinned, muscled man with his arms wrapped around his waist, bending over in fits of laughter.

The speaker looked at him and a peculiar expression crept over his face. “Rynelf!” he gasped, paling.

Rynelf looked up at him and said between laughs, “You know as well as I do, Pittencream, that you deserted at the Lone Islands on the way home and came here, and that you stopped at Ramandu’s Island and waited for us to return from the end of the world!” He laughed again. “You never even saw the last sea, you big old liar!”

“I—” began Pittencream, but Rynelf interrupted him.

“And I must say, you did a very bad depiction of the Silver Sea. And the Dark Island was not in the last sea. And we did not go so fast we lifted out of the water. And the sea did not keep getting deeper and deeper; if anything, it got shallower and shallower. And where on earth did you get the idea for the second sun?”

“I—” began Pittencream again.

“And what about food? Where did the crew on your ‘Dawn Treader’ get food? And you know, I don’t remember being on the other side of the sunrise, with the sun getting further and further away…oh! And that Blue Island! Tell us more about the Blue Island you saw on the horizon, that you were talking about right before you stopped!”

There was no reply. I looked back at the pile of stones. There was no one standing on it. Pittencream had slipped away.
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Re: Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane

Post by Esprit » Mon Jul 07, 2014 6:36 pm

*laughing* That was well written and hilarious, Hobbit! :D
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Re: Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane

Post by hobbit_of_narnia » Mon Jul 07, 2014 8:35 pm

Thank you! That one took me shortest to write, something like an hour and a half. I had to force myself to stop or it would have been waaaaay longer than it is and would have eventually gotten really boring.
I'm currently working on a fanfic one of my brothers suggested: the sequel to "Wedding Belles", but this time the main character is Lucy instead of Edmund. This is going to be interesting and lots of fun. :P
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Re: Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane

Post by jesusgirl4ever » Mon Jul 07, 2014 8:40 pm

Forgot to say that this was hilarious!
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Re: Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane

Post by hobbit_of_narnia » Tue Jul 08, 2014 12:56 pm

Here's the sequel to "Wedding Belles" It's called "Unlucky In Love", for lack of a better title.


Lucy had been dreading the day, for she knew it would come sooner or later. She knew as soon as she reached the age she’d been in the Prince Caspian movie there would be Gary Stu’s arriving looking for her. As soon as Edmund started getting Mary Sues she braced herself, because she knew her Stu’s wouldn’t be far behind. Ugh! And now the morning had come, the day was here, and there was no escape. But she had one hope…! She ran her fingers through the waves of golden hair that rippled over her shoulders and chuckled at the thought of the surprise that awaited the Stu who was in the courtyard. Get down there, shock him with the very un-Georgie Henley hair, then he would leave, and she’d be done. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as hard as she’d feared. The more she thought about it, the more confident she felt. She skipped out of her room only to be checked by Susan who stood nearby.

“Lu, I wouldn’t wear that dress if I were you,” she said quietly.


“Why ever not?”

“Well, it’s red!”

“And?”

Susan sighed. “And all Lucy ever wears in the movies is red! Wear something else. Some color you don’t wear in the movies.”

“I wore green once,” Lucy said, “and I wore white once, and I wore blue for a lot of the first movie.”

“Get in there and pick something that looks very un-movie-Lucy-like,” Susan said, shoving her sister back into her room and shutting the door. “Just trust me on these things, please. I’ve gone through it a lot before.”

“How about hot pink?” Lucy asked.

“No! You’d stand out like a centaur in a crowd of fauns. Besides, you know what Peter would do if he saw you wearing anything of that color.”

“Probably kill me,” Lucy giggled. “He hates hot pink. Maybe I should wear grey or black,” she added mischievously.

“Actually, you could. Although the Narnians might think somebody died if you did, so maybe not.”

“All right. How about a nice deep purple?”

“That will do. Go with the one I got you last Christmas, the one with the gold embroidery along the edges.”

“This one?” The door opened a crack and Lucy poked the sleeve of a lovely dark violet dress through it.

“Yes, that one.” In a minute the door opened and Lucy pranced out, twirling. “Perfect!” Susan exclaimed. “Looks like nothing you ever wear in the movies, so you should be good.”

Lucy peeked out of the window before opening the door to the courtyard. The Stu appeared to be no older than herself, or less than a year older, at least, and quite short as well. He was pacing slowly back and forth across the courtyard, and he seemed to be quite the dreamy type. In Susan’s Stu’s and in Peter and Edmund’s Sues this had always been a good sign: the sign of a movie-verse admirer. Good. Movie-versers were lots easier to get rid of, sometimes even amusing to watch. Besides, it would be fun to be able to tell the others at the dinner table that evening that she had lost her first-ever Stu in just five minutes. Lucy opened the door confidently.

The moment Lucy set foot in the courtyard things started to go awry. The Gary Stu spun around at the sound of the opening door. In a moment their eyes met—the amused blue eyes of the Narnian queen and the love-struck green eyes of the Stu—and there were three and a half eternal seconds of deathly silence in which Lucy believed she had won, but in one dreadful and unexpected instant the Stu had crossed the courtyard in a bound and flung himself down at her feet, kissing her hand rapturously.

“Oh, my lady,” he murmured in ecstasy, “thou art more beautiful than the sun on the day it first rose!”

“Excuse me, sir!” Lucy gasped in horror, jerking her hand away from him.

“My queen and my life and my heart and my eyes and my—”

Sir!”

The Stu looked up at her with a blissful expression on his dreamy face. “My lady and the one dream and one future of my life,” he breathed, “I am the man who truly loves thee most in this world and in any world, from the beginning of time and space.”

Lucy would have laughed at this 13-year-old calling himself a “man” if she had not been in dismayed shock at the appalling turn of events things had taken.

“Thy eyes, my love, are blue as the sky on a clear spring day,” he continued, “and thy hair golden as a waterfall of sunbeams, more beautiful and perfect than I could have expected. Thy hands,” here he again grasped her hand in both of his, “are lovely and flawless as a butterfly’s wing. Thy face—”

Here Lucy thought it prudent to interrupt him.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, “but I must ask you to stop now. Dinner will begin soon and I must go get ready for it. You’ll excuse me, please.”

“Oh, no, please, my lady, thou hast no need for preparation. Thou art already more perfect than perfection itself!” But Lucy had already fled into the castle and was stumbling up the stairs in a rare but very genuine rage.

“So how did it go?” Susan started to ask, but stopped suddenly at the sight of Lucy’s furious face. “Oh…I’m so sorry. Is he that hard to shake off?”

“I am wearing a black dress to dinner tonight,” Lucy told her angrily. “I don’t care if people think somebody’s died, all I know is I am going to die if I can’t shake off that…that…ugh!” Lucy stormed into her room and slammed the door.

Susan was worried. This was astonishingly unlike Lucy’s eternally cheerful personality. But what could she, Susan, do about it? She remembered that Peter had helped Edmund with Edmund’s first Mary-Sue; perhaps he might have some ideas. She thoughtfully turned and went down the stairs.

* * * * *

Ten minutes had passed, and Lucy had recovered somewhat from the embarrassment of the first meeting with her Gary-Stu, when a knock sounded on the door of her room. “Lu?” a soft voice said. “Can I come in?”

“Sure, I guess,” Lucy said. Edmund slipped into the room and closed the door softly behind him. He sat down beside Lucy on her bed. The memory of his first Mary-Sue was still fresh in his memory, so he felt a certain sympathy for the sister who sat by him, twisting a lock of her blonde hair around her finger.

“You need me to help you?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t need anybody’s help,” she mumbled.

“Yes,” he replied, “you do.”

“Please just go away,” she said. “I’m feeling absolutely miserable and I don’t want to blow up at you.”

“What if I gave you some hints?” he asked.

“Please, Edmund, I really don’t want you to be the one I lose my temper at.”

“Okay,” he said, standing up.

Lucy flung herself down on her bed and hid her face in the pillows. She heard the door close as Edmund went out. He was right. She needed help. But no way was she going to ask for it. The bit of stubborn she possessed was rising up in her. She’d show them she could figure it out on her own, even if she was the youngest. She was Queen Lucy the Valiant, for crying out loud! She could handle her own Gary-Stu! At least, she was pretty sure she could…

* * * * *

Edmund thoughtfully paced his favorite hall in the castle. He liked it because it was long, dimly lit, and hardly anyone ever went there. The ceilings were vaulted and supported by marble pillars along the walls, and the windows were small but numerous, and all of them faced west. The floors were polished wood, and great for sliding, but he only did that late at night when he could be sure no one was watching. During the day this was the place he came to read, or to think, or to just escape from other people’s noise. He did a lot of pacing here, and he knew that it took exactly 87 steps to get from one end of it to the other, but only 85 to come back. He was sure there had to be some logical explanation for this, but as he always had other things he was thinking of as he paced, he’d never figured it out.

The current problem on his mind was, of course, what to do with Lucy’s Gary-Stu. He’d met the fellow at the dinner table, and had learned much about him and deduced even more, the points of importance being that the boy’s name was Romeo (heard), he was a movie-verse Stu (deduced) who didn’t care what color Lucy’s hair was but that she was gorgeous no matter what (heard), and that his writer was far too fluent in elegant speech for a lad of his years (deduced). Edmund had also figured out most of the story Romeo was in, deducted from bits of the fellow’s rambling and ecstatic eulogies of Lucy. But in this case the story was of no use to anyone; the boy was so madly in love with Lucy that he would pay no heed to what he was supposed to be doing.

Lucy had been sure to sit on the far end of the table from Romeo. She had been dressed in the ugliest black dress in her closet, which, regrettably, wasn’t hideous enough, for Romeo had admired her in a quite open fashion and had even praised the dress (probably only because Lucy was wearing it, for it was rather a monstrous dress). Peter, who had had to sit next to Romeo, was quite fed up with the fellow by the end of the meal, and Susan kept shooting quick, sympathetic glances at Lucy during Romeo’s long, flowery speeches praising Lucy.

Poor Lu. She had quite a challenge ahead of her, and it seemed she wished to take it on alone. Edmund, nonetheless, meant to help her in any way he could. But how? How to stop a fellow who was so passionately in love that nothing could disappoint or surprise him? How to make him dislike a girl he was so distractedly in love with that he could be distracted by nothing else? The only way to discourage such a fellow would be if the girl he was in love with was married to somebody else. In fact, an idea not much different from that was how Peter had chased away Edmund’s Belle just a few months previous. Edmund rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. It had worked once; might it work again? The suggestion certainly held promise. And thus a plan began formulating in the ingenious and unpredictable mind of the Just King of Narnia.

* * * * *

“Oh, no, Peter,” Susan said in a low voice, touching the arm of her brother.

“Hmm?”

“Look.” She gestured to the window. Peter looked.

“Oh, poor Lucy can’t even get rid of her first Stu before here comes another one,” he moaned. “Edmund told us not to worry about it and he’d take care of everything, but I think he’s probably in over his head this time.”

It certainly looked that way. Lucy, who was in the garden trying to ignore the entreaties and promises of Romeo, looked around when she heard a horse and rider gallop into the courtyard on the other side of the garden wall. She could tell from the jingling of the bridle and stirrups that the horse had stopped short, champing the bit and snorting. Lucy wished with all her might that it would be only be a messenger or something. But look! the door to the garden was opening…a figure was coming in…Lucy wished the light had been better; the sun, close to setting and coming across from her right, was getting in her eyes and giving her an unclear view of the rider. As he approached them, her heart sank. He was too short to be anyone but another Gary-Stu. She felt like crying. The new boy had a feathered cap which he removed as he drew near her, revealing blonde, wavy hair. He gave her a sweeping bow, cast a superior yet inquisitive glance at Romeo, then knelt before Lucy and kissed her hand quickly.

“My lady,” he said politely, then, taking her arm, attempted to lead her down a different path of the garden. Lucy tried to free her arm from his, but his grip, though gentle, was steady and she was unable to pull loose.

“Excuse me,” said Romeo hotly, grasping the shoulder of the newcomer (he had to stand on his toes to do this effectively). “Who exactly dost thou think thou art?”

“Why,” replied the fellow with an easy laugh, “I am the lover of the Queen of Narnia, and I have been courting her this last twelvemonth.”

Romeo looked, bewildered from the stranger to Lucy, then back to the stranger again. Lucy opened her mouth to protest.

“And we are recently engaged,” the stranger added proudly before she had a chance to speak. Romeo bristled like an angry young cock. Lucy’s face turned red, white, and blue at the same time, which would have been very patriotic if they had been in America, but since they were in Narnia, it only evidenced her anger.

“We are not!” she gasped. “I don’t even know who you are!”

“Of course you do!” the newcomer replied, releasing her arm only to take her hands in his and look earnestly into her eyes. “You know me!”

“I most assuredly do not!”

“My love, don’t play games! Of course you do!” And with this he gave her a smacking kiss on her cheek. Lucy had only a moment before he drew away to hear the quickly whispered “Lu, don’t be a fool!” in a rather different voice from the one he had been using so far.

“E—” she began, but stopped at a glance from those now-familiar brown eyes. “Oh, but of course I know you!” she cried. “What a fool I am!” A sudden idea came into her head and she threw her arms around Edmund. Edmund hated being hugged.

“And who is this?” he asked, turning to Romeo.

“Oh, just a guest,” she replied carelessly.

“Who doth be leaving this very night,” Romeo added hotly.

“Oh, but it is soon getting dark,” Edmund protested. “Don’t you wish to stay ’til the morning so you might have more daylight in which to travel?”

“Actually, methinks it better to take my leave this eve,” Romeo replied stiffly. “Farewell.” He gave a reserved and disgruntled bow, then strode angrily out of the garden.

As soon as the gate closed behind the retreating figure, Lucy burst into laughter. “I’m going to kill you for this!” she giggled.

Edmund chuckled ruefully as he ran his fingers through his blonde hair. “Yeah, unless I kill myself first for dyeing my hair. I hope this goes away soon.”

“No, but really, thank you,” Lucy said. “I really did need help, and I’m sorry for saying I didn’t.”

“Oh, don’t mention it, my lady,” he said, with an exaggerated bow. Then, taking her arm, they walked together towards the castle in the light of the setting sun.
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Re: Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane

Post by jesusgirl4ever » Tue Jul 08, 2014 6:08 pm

That is perfectly funny!
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