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salvaged from the cutting room floor
I am in a hotel on Long Island and the hallway consistently smells of weed.
Narnia drabble dump! Actually, these are deleted scenes from previous fics. I have a Notepad file of deleted scenes to be used in future fics, but sometimes they just get dumped in a post such as this.
From to know these songs and to sing them (Peter/Susan, PG13). I didn't initially know how to end the fic, so I kept on drabbling, hoping to meander to some sort of conclusion. This is one of those drabbles.
Occasionally they would dine at a restaurant, just the two of them, and they talk about mundane things. He thinks her lips are too red and she thinks his face is too pale, but they don’t say it aloud.
After a night of particularly strained conversation, Susan asks him, “Why is it so hard to get along now? We were such good friends.”
He fixes her with a long hard stare. “I’m not your friend,” he replies. “I am your brother.”
From remember me as a time of day (Anna Popplewell/Susan Pevensie, though this scene is Anna/Will. PG13). I needed to write one more scene in the 'real world' to bridge the Cair Paravel scenes. This was written, and eventually rejected maybe because it wasn't crack enough.
After filming another battle scene, Will found her in make-up being touched up. “War-making suits you,” he said, by way of congratulations.
“Lewis didn’t think so,” Anna muttered.
“Lewis is dead, darling,” said Anton as he smeared more pink on Anna’s lips, more red on her cheeks, sprayed more spray in her hair. “Now look up.”
Anna did. Anton applied eyeliner. He said, “Look down.”
Anna did. Anton applied tans and pinks on her eyelids. He said, “Now look at Will.”
“What?” she said, but she was already looking at Will, their eyes meeting in the mirror. He grinned, and so did she. She couldn’t help it.
“Ah,” said Anton. “I’ve put a bit too much blush on you.”
From the root goes deep/on all that came before (Trumpkin, G). I'm rather fond of the Lucy and Trumpkin POVs here. I don't have a special affinity for Lucy and Trumpkin, so the writing's more straightforward and, I feel, tighter. I like the insight their POVs give. This was cut because it would just be unnecessarily belaboring Trumpkin's point, his point being that these Sons and Daughters are full of it up to the eyes.
Going to Beruna was an utter bust. They’re back at the dead end and Peter looks over the side of the cliff like he’s willing the waters to rise up or the ground beneath his feet to drop.
That’s what really bothers Trumpkin about the High King, about all of them. They’ve been gone thirteen hundred years, so where do they get off, expecting things to be as they were when they left? Why, he himself is creature of habit, but he at least recognizes this in himself, and he also recognizes that things change; Trumpkin doesn’t try to force the hand of the Universe. But Queen Lucy seeks friends who have long deserted them, and King Peter tries to find paths that Time has long unraveled, and sometimes Trumpkin can’t help but find the whole affair very foolish indeed.
Narnia drabble dump! Actually, these are deleted scenes from previous fics. I have a Notepad file of deleted scenes to be used in future fics, but sometimes they just get dumped in a post such as this.
From to know these songs and to sing them (Peter/Susan, PG13). I didn't initially know how to end the fic, so I kept on drabbling, hoping to meander to some sort of conclusion. This is one of those drabbles.
Occasionally they would dine at a restaurant, just the two of them, and they talk about mundane things. He thinks her lips are too red and she thinks his face is too pale, but they don’t say it aloud.
After a night of particularly strained conversation, Susan asks him, “Why is it so hard to get along now? We were such good friends.”
He fixes her with a long hard stare. “I’m not your friend,” he replies. “I am your brother.”
From remember me as a time of day (Anna Popplewell/Susan Pevensie, though this scene is Anna/Will. PG13). I needed to write one more scene in the 'real world' to bridge the Cair Paravel scenes. This was written, and eventually rejected maybe because it wasn't crack enough.
After filming another battle scene, Will found her in make-up being touched up. “War-making suits you,” he said, by way of congratulations.
“Lewis didn’t think so,” Anna muttered.
“Lewis is dead, darling,” said Anton as he smeared more pink on Anna’s lips, more red on her cheeks, sprayed more spray in her hair. “Now look up.”
Anna did. Anton applied eyeliner. He said, “Look down.”
Anna did. Anton applied tans and pinks on her eyelids. He said, “Now look at Will.”
“What?” she said, but she was already looking at Will, their eyes meeting in the mirror. He grinned, and so did she. She couldn’t help it.
“Ah,” said Anton. “I’ve put a bit too much blush on you.”
From the root goes deep/on all that came before (Trumpkin, G). I'm rather fond of the Lucy and Trumpkin POVs here. I don't have a special affinity for Lucy and Trumpkin, so the writing's more straightforward and, I feel, tighter. I like the insight their POVs give. This was cut because it would just be unnecessarily belaboring Trumpkin's point, his point being that these Sons and Daughters are full of it up to the eyes.
Going to Beruna was an utter bust. They’re back at the dead end and Peter looks over the side of the cliff like he’s willing the waters to rise up or the ground beneath his feet to drop.
That’s what really bothers Trumpkin about the High King, about all of them. They’ve been gone thirteen hundred years, so where do they get off, expecting things to be as they were when they left? Why, he himself is creature of habit, but he at least recognizes this in himself, and he also recognizes that things change; Trumpkin doesn’t try to force the hand of the Universe. But Queen Lucy seeks friends who have long deserted them, and King Peter tries to find paths that Time has long unraveled, and sometimes Trumpkin can’t help but find the whole affair very foolish indeed.