And I knew it was Ed before he even walked through the garden door.
Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane
Moderators: Ariel.of.Narnia, Tenethia, White Rose, Lil
-
Ariel.of.Narnia
- Site Admin
- Posts: 11696
- Joined: Thu Aug 22, 2013 7:21 pm
- Location: hiding in a wardrobe
- Contact:
Re: Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane
I like how you made up Pittencream's grandiose tale and having Rynelf catch him.
And I knew it was Ed before he even walked through the garden door.
And I knew it was Ed before he even walked through the garden door.
knight and scribe
lyrics from TobyMac's "New World"
lyrics from TobyMac's "New World"
-
hobbit_of_narnia
- Knight
- Posts: 6529
- Joined: Sat May 31, 2014 9:13 pm
- Location: ♫ What's this holding me? I'm not where I'm supposed to be! ♪♫
Re: Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane
My sister told me I should have dragged out the garden scene more, but I didn't want the story to run away with me for pages and pages and pages, which is what it would have done if I had given it its head. 
This fanfiction is my most serious one (and also the only finished one that I haven't already posted). It has the least action in it of all my fanfictions, since it was sort of a practice exercise at getting inside people's heads. It's called "Who Am I" inspired by the song by Casting Crowns. (I listened to that song on loop for at least 2 hours while I was writing it!)
I never really adjusted to the sudden change between being just any ordinary boy who’d happened to get into a magical land, and being a king of said land, and I still haven’t, even though I’m no longer there. I remember that each day I was just as awed to be putting on my crown as I had been the first morning after our coronation. I also remember how daunting the task of being a king appeared to be; what’s more, being called “The Just”. There was one day in particular that I remember well. It happened four years after we came to Narnia.
I was the only Pevensie at the Cair that day, and it was the first time that had happened since we’d gotten into Narnia. Up until this point, one of the others had always been there to take the responsibility for everything, and I had been perfectly willing to let them have it, so that by this time, even 12-year-old Lucy was more experienced than I was at this whole ruling-a-kingdom-with-thousands-of-people-depending-on-you thing. But now, Lucy had left for the Western Woods to settle a property line dispute between a hedgehog and two rabbits, and Peter and Susan were in the Seven Isles. So for the time, for a week maybe, depending on how long it took Lucy to get back, the sole protector of peace and tranquility in Narnia that was readily available was a scared fourteen-year-old who had no idea what he was doing or was going to do: King Edmund the Just, who wasn’t at the moment feeling very “king” or feeling very “just”.
If only Aslan would show up! He had come to Cair Paravel before, but then he normally spoke to Peter to give him advice about something-or-other that was going on in Narnia at the time, and had serious talks to Susan about things that sounded grown-up and important, and talked to Lucy for a long time and Lucy would throw her arms as far around his neck as they could reach. In the past I’d always felt a little left out whenever Aslan came, because to me, there seemed nothing we could talk about, and besides, I was a little shy of him. The only real talk we had ever had was shortly after we first got to Narnia. When he came to the Cair I often stood on the east balcony and looked out over the sea. But sometimes I would turn around and see him looking at me with his great, shining golden eyes. Somehow, whenever he did that, I always had to quickly look back away to hide the tears that wouldn’t be stopped. I felt that there must be another side to Aslan that I wasn’t seeing, not the royal King that advised Peter, or the kind Father that spoke to Susan, or even the warm-hearted Friend that Lucy adored, but a quiet, powerful Being who could understand me though no one else did. Someone else who would be like me. For some reason, I felt alone in Narnia. Even after four years of being there, I’d made very few close friends who I could really talk to. No one else was much like I was, except maybe the centaurs, but they’d always seemed a bit distant. Distant, and silent. Like me. And unlike Lucy, Peter, and Susan. Lucy especially had such an open, free, energetic personality and such sparkling blue eyes that everyone loved her. And Peter was so strong and untamed and brave, the Narnians had no problem with putting all their trust in the tall, blue-eyed, seventeen-year-old warrior. And Susan was graceful and had a beautiful face with delicate features and blue eyes, and the Narnians adored her, and some called her the pride of Narnia. I wondered just how many of the Narnians forgot that there was another king: a shy, awkward king with troubled, serious, dark-brown eyes, who hadn’t the least idea about how to do any of what the others were so capable of. And now, as I watched Lucy’s horse trotting down the western road, I wondered how the Narnians felt about having that inexperienced king being their only leader for a while. Afraid, probably, like I was, and for about the same reason that I was. I wished now that I’d had a little more practice being responsible, because the most frightening thing in the world for me is suddenly being called to do something I don’t know how to do…such as being completely in charge of Narnia. I realized that I would need Someone greater to help me if I wanted to make it until the others came back.
With slow steps I entered the Great Hall. It was early enough in the morning that no one else had come in yet. Four thrones sat at the far end, and all four of them were empty. It looked very lonely. I walked up to mine and sat down. I looked to my left. Nearest to me was Peter’s throne. It was empty. Beside Peter’s was Susan’s. Hers was also empty. On the far end was Lucy’s. Empty. Three empty thrones in an almost-empty room that had nothing in it but a boy with an empty, aching heart. I’d never felt so alone in my life. Alone, and unsure, and incompetent. Who was I to be ruling Narnia?
It hit me suddenly that the Narnians didn’t know that I wasn’t ready. They had no idea that I’d rarely done or said anything of importance since I’d become a king; that I’d had nothing to do with how Narnia had run for the past four years. That was the one drawback of being inconspicuous; no one notices when you do anything, and no one notices when you don’t. And because of that, they all probably thought I would do just as good a job as Peter; they probably expected me to.
I reached up and took my crown off. As I held it and looked at it, it seemed to me that it represented everything I wasn’t. Noble…responsible…majestic…just. My finger traced the design in the silver. Up, down, around the little loopy-thingy, down again, up to one of the pointys, down. Why was it mine? I’d done nothing to earn it. And I certainly didn’t expect to any time soon, not alone, anyway. I was unquestionably going to need help if I was hoping to do anything right. Oh, how I wished Aslan would come! He’d made Peter become confident when we’d first come; maybe he could help me.
I stood up and walked out onto the eastern balcony. Aslan had always left to the east. Looking down at the beach far below, I saw a trail of glittering prints on the sand near the water. As I watched, the water in them evaporated, but they seemed still to shine.
“Edmund.”
I spun around. There, standing behind me, larger than when he had come in the past, stood Aslan. His mane ruffled a bit in the breeze that was coming off the sea. His paws were wet and had a sprinkling of sand caught in the fur. But I hardly noticed any of this, for his eyes were so golden and bright that I couldn’t take my own off them.
“Aslan,” I gasped, taking a hesitant step toward him. A slight smile lifted the corners of his mouth. I ran to him and flung my arms up around his neck. It was so large that my fingers couldn’t touch in the back. I didn’t care that tears were running down my cheeks. All I cared about was that Aslan was here. His golden mane brushed against my face. I could feel a small gap in the thick, long fur just behind his left shoulder and I held him tighter. He lifted one paw and wrapped it around me gently and whispered in his deep voice, “My son.”
How long we stood there I don’t know, but I know that I finally managed to choke out, “Aslan, why me? Who am I to be here? What did I do that you chose me? Why did you make me a king?”
He paused before replying quietly, “Because I know more than you do.”
“But I don’t think I’m ready.”
“But I think you are.” I didn’t reply; I couldn’t. “Edmund, I chose you on purpose. I was leading you when you followed Lucy into the wardrobe. I watched you when you were in the Witch’s castle, and ensured that your brother and sisters forgave you when you were rescued from her. And I saw you today as you sat in the Great Hall and doubted yourself.”
Another tear slipped down my cheek and I bit my lip, clenching my fists and tightening my hold on Aslan.
“You ask who you are,” continued Aslan softly. “But that is the wrong question. Who you are is beside the point. It is not who you are, but what I have done for you. You ask what you have done. It is not what you have done, but who I am. Who are you? It makes no difference when you are mine.”
* * * * *
Lucy skipped through the castle. She’d left something behind that she was going to need, and had come back to get it. As she passed the arched doorway to the east balcony, a flash of golden fur caught her eye. She scampered eagerly to the doorway, but stopped suddenly.
Edmund, with his face buried Aslan’s mane and his arms wrapped around Aslan’s neck, was crying softly. The damp black locks of his hair were mixed with Aslan’s shining gold ones. Aslan glanced back at Lucy and his eyes smiled at her. Lucy smiled back understandingly and tiptoed away. She was so happy that she hardly could contain herself. It had always seemed to her that, even after becoming a king, Edmund had been a little bit distant from the Lion. But at last, Edmund had found Aslan.
This fanfiction is my most serious one (and also the only finished one that I haven't already posted). It has the least action in it of all my fanfictions, since it was sort of a practice exercise at getting inside people's heads. It's called "Who Am I" inspired by the song by Casting Crowns. (I listened to that song on loop for at least 2 hours while I was writing it!)
I never really adjusted to the sudden change between being just any ordinary boy who’d happened to get into a magical land, and being a king of said land, and I still haven’t, even though I’m no longer there. I remember that each day I was just as awed to be putting on my crown as I had been the first morning after our coronation. I also remember how daunting the task of being a king appeared to be; what’s more, being called “The Just”. There was one day in particular that I remember well. It happened four years after we came to Narnia.
I was the only Pevensie at the Cair that day, and it was the first time that had happened since we’d gotten into Narnia. Up until this point, one of the others had always been there to take the responsibility for everything, and I had been perfectly willing to let them have it, so that by this time, even 12-year-old Lucy was more experienced than I was at this whole ruling-a-kingdom-with-thousands-of-people-depending-on-you thing. But now, Lucy had left for the Western Woods to settle a property line dispute between a hedgehog and two rabbits, and Peter and Susan were in the Seven Isles. So for the time, for a week maybe, depending on how long it took Lucy to get back, the sole protector of peace and tranquility in Narnia that was readily available was a scared fourteen-year-old who had no idea what he was doing or was going to do: King Edmund the Just, who wasn’t at the moment feeling very “king” or feeling very “just”.
If only Aslan would show up! He had come to Cair Paravel before, but then he normally spoke to Peter to give him advice about something-or-other that was going on in Narnia at the time, and had serious talks to Susan about things that sounded grown-up and important, and talked to Lucy for a long time and Lucy would throw her arms as far around his neck as they could reach. In the past I’d always felt a little left out whenever Aslan came, because to me, there seemed nothing we could talk about, and besides, I was a little shy of him. The only real talk we had ever had was shortly after we first got to Narnia. When he came to the Cair I often stood on the east balcony and looked out over the sea. But sometimes I would turn around and see him looking at me with his great, shining golden eyes. Somehow, whenever he did that, I always had to quickly look back away to hide the tears that wouldn’t be stopped. I felt that there must be another side to Aslan that I wasn’t seeing, not the royal King that advised Peter, or the kind Father that spoke to Susan, or even the warm-hearted Friend that Lucy adored, but a quiet, powerful Being who could understand me though no one else did. Someone else who would be like me. For some reason, I felt alone in Narnia. Even after four years of being there, I’d made very few close friends who I could really talk to. No one else was much like I was, except maybe the centaurs, but they’d always seemed a bit distant. Distant, and silent. Like me. And unlike Lucy, Peter, and Susan. Lucy especially had such an open, free, energetic personality and such sparkling blue eyes that everyone loved her. And Peter was so strong and untamed and brave, the Narnians had no problem with putting all their trust in the tall, blue-eyed, seventeen-year-old warrior. And Susan was graceful and had a beautiful face with delicate features and blue eyes, and the Narnians adored her, and some called her the pride of Narnia. I wondered just how many of the Narnians forgot that there was another king: a shy, awkward king with troubled, serious, dark-brown eyes, who hadn’t the least idea about how to do any of what the others were so capable of. And now, as I watched Lucy’s horse trotting down the western road, I wondered how the Narnians felt about having that inexperienced king being their only leader for a while. Afraid, probably, like I was, and for about the same reason that I was. I wished now that I’d had a little more practice being responsible, because the most frightening thing in the world for me is suddenly being called to do something I don’t know how to do…such as being completely in charge of Narnia. I realized that I would need Someone greater to help me if I wanted to make it until the others came back.
With slow steps I entered the Great Hall. It was early enough in the morning that no one else had come in yet. Four thrones sat at the far end, and all four of them were empty. It looked very lonely. I walked up to mine and sat down. I looked to my left. Nearest to me was Peter’s throne. It was empty. Beside Peter’s was Susan’s. Hers was also empty. On the far end was Lucy’s. Empty. Three empty thrones in an almost-empty room that had nothing in it but a boy with an empty, aching heart. I’d never felt so alone in my life. Alone, and unsure, and incompetent. Who was I to be ruling Narnia?
It hit me suddenly that the Narnians didn’t know that I wasn’t ready. They had no idea that I’d rarely done or said anything of importance since I’d become a king; that I’d had nothing to do with how Narnia had run for the past four years. That was the one drawback of being inconspicuous; no one notices when you do anything, and no one notices when you don’t. And because of that, they all probably thought I would do just as good a job as Peter; they probably expected me to.
I reached up and took my crown off. As I held it and looked at it, it seemed to me that it represented everything I wasn’t. Noble…responsible…majestic…just. My finger traced the design in the silver. Up, down, around the little loopy-thingy, down again, up to one of the pointys, down. Why was it mine? I’d done nothing to earn it. And I certainly didn’t expect to any time soon, not alone, anyway. I was unquestionably going to need help if I was hoping to do anything right. Oh, how I wished Aslan would come! He’d made Peter become confident when we’d first come; maybe he could help me.
I stood up and walked out onto the eastern balcony. Aslan had always left to the east. Looking down at the beach far below, I saw a trail of glittering prints on the sand near the water. As I watched, the water in them evaporated, but they seemed still to shine.
“Edmund.”
I spun around. There, standing behind me, larger than when he had come in the past, stood Aslan. His mane ruffled a bit in the breeze that was coming off the sea. His paws were wet and had a sprinkling of sand caught in the fur. But I hardly noticed any of this, for his eyes were so golden and bright that I couldn’t take my own off them.
“Aslan,” I gasped, taking a hesitant step toward him. A slight smile lifted the corners of his mouth. I ran to him and flung my arms up around his neck. It was so large that my fingers couldn’t touch in the back. I didn’t care that tears were running down my cheeks. All I cared about was that Aslan was here. His golden mane brushed against my face. I could feel a small gap in the thick, long fur just behind his left shoulder and I held him tighter. He lifted one paw and wrapped it around me gently and whispered in his deep voice, “My son.”
How long we stood there I don’t know, but I know that I finally managed to choke out, “Aslan, why me? Who am I to be here? What did I do that you chose me? Why did you make me a king?”
He paused before replying quietly, “Because I know more than you do.”
“But I don’t think I’m ready.”
“But I think you are.” I didn’t reply; I couldn’t. “Edmund, I chose you on purpose. I was leading you when you followed Lucy into the wardrobe. I watched you when you were in the Witch’s castle, and ensured that your brother and sisters forgave you when you were rescued from her. And I saw you today as you sat in the Great Hall and doubted yourself.”
Another tear slipped down my cheek and I bit my lip, clenching my fists and tightening my hold on Aslan.
“You ask who you are,” continued Aslan softly. “But that is the wrong question. Who you are is beside the point. It is not who you are, but what I have done for you. You ask what you have done. It is not what you have done, but who I am. Who are you? It makes no difference when you are mine.”
* * * * *
Lucy skipped through the castle. She’d left something behind that she was going to need, and had come back to get it. As she passed the arched doorway to the east balcony, a flash of golden fur caught her eye. She scampered eagerly to the doorway, but stopped suddenly.
Edmund, with his face buried Aslan’s mane and his arms wrapped around Aslan’s neck, was crying softly. The damp black locks of his hair were mixed with Aslan’s shining gold ones. Aslan glanced back at Lucy and his eyes smiled at her. Lucy smiled back understandingly and tiptoed away. She was so happy that she hardly could contain herself. It had always seemed to her that, even after becoming a king, Edmund had been a little bit distant from the Lion. But at last, Edmund had found Aslan.
If somebody has an idea for a Narnia comic that they weren't planning on making themselves, I <------ This offer still
would be so grateful if they would send it to me in a PM. I am running appallingly low on ideas...! <-- stands.
-
jesusgirl4ever
- Moderator
- Posts: 11641
- Joined: Sun Aug 25, 2013 7:44 am
- Location: Returning to Earth
- Contact:
Re: Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane
That was wonderful, Hobbit!
Lady Jaygee, Royal Pianist and Lover of Cats, Knight of TLC
-
hobbit_of_narnia
- Knight
- Posts: 6529
- Joined: Sat May 31, 2014 9:13 pm
- Location: ♫ What's this holding me? I'm not where I'm supposed to be! ♪♫
Re: Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane
This is my first Narnia poem that's worth anything...it's called "Brandy".
It wasn’t my fault, it really was not.
I was only a victim of fate.
But now I am stranded and fuddled and caught,
Boxed up in a twining-branch crate.
And I can’t get out.
Oh…brandy.
It was my godmother! She’s fully to blame!
I’d have never got in but for her.
She’s ruined the Ketterlys (a very old name)
And now I’ll be labeled for sure.
A very old Dorsetshire family…
Oh…brandy.
I’m stuck in this world filled with bloodthirsty beasts,
And the others have left me alone.
I’ve run faster than I have for decades at least,
As my personal records have shown.
My good suit…
Oh…brandy.
I was never meant for this sort of work.
This was the guinea pigs’ job to do.
But now I am stuck with a queen that’s a jerk
In a world with a wild lion, too.
No one cares about me…
Oh…brandy.
That nephew of mine (what a wicked boy, he!)
Took off with my way to get back.
If I had a gun and a hunter with me,
Then glibly my knuckles I’d crack.
But…I don’t.
Oh…brandy.
Brandy.
It wasn’t my fault, it really was not.
I was only a victim of fate.
But now I am stranded and fuddled and caught,
Boxed up in a twining-branch crate.
And I can’t get out.
Oh…brandy.
It was my godmother! She’s fully to blame!
I’d have never got in but for her.
She’s ruined the Ketterlys (a very old name)
And now I’ll be labeled for sure.
A very old Dorsetshire family…
Oh…brandy.
I’m stuck in this world filled with bloodthirsty beasts,
And the others have left me alone.
I’ve run faster than I have for decades at least,
As my personal records have shown.
My good suit…
Oh…brandy.
I was never meant for this sort of work.
This was the guinea pigs’ job to do.
But now I am stuck with a queen that’s a jerk
In a world with a wild lion, too.
No one cares about me…
Oh…brandy.
That nephew of mine (what a wicked boy, he!)
Took off with my way to get back.
If I had a gun and a hunter with me,
Then glibly my knuckles I’d crack.
But…I don’t.
Oh…brandy.
Brandy.
Last edited by hobbit_of_narnia on Fri Aug 08, 2014 9:53 pm, edited 2 times in total.
If somebody has an idea for a Narnia comic that they weren't planning on making themselves, I <------ This offer still
would be so grateful if they would send it to me in a PM. I am running appallingly low on ideas...! <-- stands.
-
jesusgirl4ever
- Moderator
- Posts: 11641
- Joined: Sun Aug 25, 2013 7:44 am
- Location: Returning to Earth
- Contact:
Re: Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane
*facepalm* Oh, Uncle Andrew.
Lady Jaygee, Royal Pianist and Lover of Cats, Knight of TLC
-
hobbit_of_narnia
- Knight
- Posts: 6529
- Joined: Sat May 31, 2014 9:13 pm
- Location: ♫ What's this holding me? I'm not where I'm supposed to be! ♪♫
Re: Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane
It was originally going to be a "Who Am I?" riddle but it turned our being funnier with the "Oh...brandy"s in there and wow, that would have been a hard riddle, wouldn't it? And besides, this way also allowed me to put in more direct quotes. Three cheers for direct quotes!
I have had a lot of sugar in the past half hour. Can you tell?
I have had a lot of sugar in the past half hour. Can you tell?
If somebody has an idea for a Narnia comic that they weren't planning on making themselves, I <------ This offer still
would be so grateful if they would send it to me in a PM. I am running appallingly low on ideas...! <-- stands.
-
albero1
- Knight
- Posts: 1028
- Joined: Sun Dec 08, 2013 4:08 pm
- Location: SCREAMING because 21 Pilots just released a new song! *victory dance*
Re: Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane
I was supposed to write the sequel to Wedding Belles, but I was so lazy... I guess I'll have to write the prequel instead... *evil laugh*
Lady Albero, Royal Vocalist and Scrivener of Fanfictions, Knight of TLC
Lyrics from House of Gold by Twenty One Pilots
Lyrics from House of Gold by Twenty One Pilots
-
Ariel.of.Narnia
- Site Admin
- Posts: 11696
- Joined: Thu Aug 22, 2013 7:21 pm
- Location: hiding in a wardrobe
- Contact:
Re: Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane
Hobbit, first off, I have to say... I teared up a little (didn't cry! just teared up 
) in the Who Am I one when Edmund ran to Aslan. I don't know if the song I was listening to in the background had anything to do with it (33Miles' "I Loved You Then" ("I loved you then, I love you now, I will love you tomorrow. When this world breaks you down, I will give you strength to stand. Look to Me. Take My hand and just believe. Before this day ever began, I loved you then.")), but either way, that's a very rare thing for me.
As for Brandy...
) in the Who Am I one when Edmund ran to Aslan. I don't know if the song I was listening to in the background had anything to do with it (33Miles' "I Loved You Then" ("I loved you then, I love you now, I will love you tomorrow. When this world breaks you down, I will give you strength to stand. Look to Me. Take My hand and just believe. Before this day ever began, I loved you then.")), but either way, that's a very rare thing for me. As for Brandy...
knight and scribe
lyrics from TobyMac's "New World"
lyrics from TobyMac's "New World"
Re: Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane
@Ariel Haha ! The song probably had something to do with it!
Hobbit, You are a skilled writer and I just sat here for about twenty to thirty minutes reading all your stories. I love them all and I especially love the one with Aslan and Edmund. It has encouraged me a great deal and I actually got teary eyed!
So that is another skill. You can almost make me cry with your stories! Very well done! I will probably reread them which I don't do normally do with short stories! I love all the Mary-sue, Gary-stu stories. They show great sibling relationship! And I will say it again You are very skilled! 
! The song probably had something to do with it!Hobbit, You are a skilled writer and I just sat here for about twenty to thirty minutes reading all your stories. I love them all and I especially love the one with Aslan and Edmund. It has encouraged me a great deal and I actually got teary eyed!
So that is another skill. You can almost make me cry with your stories! Very well done! I will probably reread them which I don't do normally do with short stories! I love all the Mary-sue, Gary-stu stories. They show great sibling relationship! And I will say it again You are very skilled! *is such a cocky shapechanger*
I am Kili to Gypse's Fili. And apparently to Alex's Legolas...
*is a Bore sitting on my Bor's head*
I am Kili to Gypse's Fili. And apparently to Alex's Legolas...
*is a Bore sitting on my Bor's head*
-
hobbit_of_narnia
- Knight
- Posts: 6529
- Joined: Sat May 31, 2014 9:13 pm
- Location: ♫ What's this holding me? I'm not where I'm supposed to be! ♪♫
Re: Fanfics, insane or not-so-insane
Thank you so much for all the encouragement, guys! I'm glad you like my stories.
If somebody has an idea for a Narnia comic that they weren't planning on making themselves, I <------ This offer still
would be so grateful if they would send it to me in a PM. I am running appallingly low on ideas...! <-- stands.