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New Travelling Companions, a continuation of a fanfic of Narnia and Valdemar

first: A Door in the Wall
Second: On the Other Side of the Door
Third: The Call Comes Again

The Pevensies found themselves alone again, in front of a strange forest in a strange land.

The four of them shared a long and thoughtful look.

“I have to say,” Peter admitted after a moment, “I feel underdressed.”

“We are, however, less under-armed than we were a few moments ago,” Susan pointed out. She was glad it had not been her who’d admitted to feeling improperly clothed, but she certainly was feeling much the same. A Queen wore raiment. A school-girl on a lark wore her brother’s hand-me-down pants and a blouse to grubby for wearing out.

“It doesn’t matter.” Lucy’s smile was back, her proper smile, bright and gleaming. “We’re Kings and Queens the same whether we’re in wellies and mackintoshes or in gowns and crowns.”

Edmund chuckled. “Always the same, Lu, cheerful and bright.” He patted her on the back companionably. “And you’re right. You’ve got your proper gifts, and I’ve got —” He looked down at the mace thoughtfully. “Well, I’ve got a proper gift, too.”

The sound of hoof-beats approaching stilled their chatter. Without discussion, without even a sign from Peter, the four of them fell into a combat formation. Susan found herself drawing an arrow as if they had never left Narnia, the movements smooth and comfortable.

The whitest, largest horse Susan had ever seen trotted into sight. Its rider was showing off, she realized; the mount was doing dance steps, curvetting and side-stepping as they approached.

And on the horse’s back — or, she realized, perhaps the Horse’s back — the rider was dressed all in white as well. The horse’s tack was all white with very pale blue barding, and bells jangled on the barding.

The rider was dark-skinned, darker even than the Calormen, but with a beak-like nose that seemed almost familiar to Susan. His long hair was braided up into a crown, wrapped around the rider’s head, almost like a turban.

His eyes were the sort of black that you could get lost in. Susan stifled a reaction. She steadied her aim and watched the rider’s movements.

He lifted both hands carefully, showing they were empty. “Greetings.” Even his accent sounded like the Calormen. “I believe you were expecting me. I am Soleck; this is Leffen.” He moved one hand to pat the horse’s neck as he introduced him — him; Susan realized; the great white horse was a stallion. The horse, in turn, exhibited a lovely bow. “And I am told that you are here to help us in our current, ah, quest. These things are true? You are the kings and queens from a far distant place? Susan and Peter, Lucy and Edmund?”

They all stayed frozen for a moment. Peter was the first to relax, the first to smile. He stepped forward, his hand off his sword hilt and a wide smile on his face.

Of course, Susan knew, he was still playing the protector, as always. If this was a ruse, Peter would be the first to be hit, and the others would have a chance to flee or retaliate. She lowered her bow, but did not put it up just yet. They were in a strange land, with no easy route home, and they did not know the rules yet.

While she assessed, Peter was holding out his hand to the stranger. “That’s us,” he agreed. “I am Peter. These are my brother and my sisters.”

Susan noted that he did not say King Peter. Their kingdom, after all, was so far far away.

The man leaned down from his saddle and shook the proffered hand. “A pleasure to meet you. I assure you all, I mean you no harm, and neither does Leffen. Here.” He slid out of his saddle and held his hands away from his belt, showing himself to be unarmed. “What the Sunlord has sent, I will not turn away.”

The Sunlord again. Susan itched for a text on comparative religion. In Narnia, where Aslan had walked among them, there had been very little religion, and it had been quite easy to sort out. In other nations — and back on Earth — it had been a different matter entirely.

Peter was bowing to the ambassador. “We have been sent, it seems,” he allowed, “and we’ve learned better than to question Aslan’s will in these matters. I suppose that makes us allies.”

“This Aslan, he is the one who sent you?”

“So we were told, and so, in this case, we believe. Tesnel — that is the Firecat — told us that a ‘companion’ would arrive to explain things. Is that you, then?”

“Ah. Well, Leffen is the Companion, and I am his Herald.”

At that, Leffen demonstrated such a gracious head-nod bow that Susan had to believe he was a Horse and not merely a horse. If there was anything about Narnia that Susan missed most of all — and it was hard to say, because she missed all of Narnia so much that it hurt even to think of it — it was Horses, and specifically her favorite Horse Carter, who had carried her right to the edge of the Lantern Waste after so many more glorious adventures.

She moved forward, putting up her bow and arrow now, but even as she was stepping towards the Horse — for he must be greeted too, of course, and he was the one that Tesnel had send to them — she could see that Soleck had tensed. He had introduced Leffen, but had he intended them to speak to the Horse?

Susan changed her direction mid-stride. She was hampered only slightly by her lack of skirts as she curtseyed deeply, for a Queen of course must be polite in any and every situation. She aimed her genuflection directly between Soleck and Leffen. “Herald Soleck, Companion Leffen, I am pleased to meet you. I am Susan.”

::I like her.:: Leffen took a step forward and very neatly nosed Susan’s hair. ::These are the ones, all right.::

“Lu, come on.” Susan gestured her sister over with a hand-wave far less queenly than her dignity might have like. “He smells just like Carter. Exactly! I mean.” She stepped back before she could throw her arms around the Horse’s neck. “I apologize, sir. You remind me of someone I once knew.” She paused, her eyes travelling over to Soleck, who was watching her with mouth open and eyebrows raised so far as to be sitting in his braids. “You both remind me of people I once knew.”

::Sir?:: Leffen stepped forward to nuzzle at Susan’s shoulder again. ::I like her very much.::

Fifth: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1094098.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/963929.html. You can comment here or there.

Follow Inspector Caracal on Patreon for an awesome new serialized story!

Inspector Caracal, known on Dreamwidth as [personal profile] inventrix, has begun a serial on Patreon!

To quote the Inventrix, Red Crow Company is an “episodic, action-y, heavily anime-inspired story about the titular mercenary company and the jobs they take.” And as of its first episode, it’s enthralling!

Check it out! Get in on the ground floor of an exciting new fandom! Then you can say “I liked it before it was world-famous.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/963610.html. You can comment here or there.

“Write Something Short, Lyn.” Not quite a prompt call

I’ve been doing really well on longer projects, but sometimes I just want something I can post right away.

So leave me any or all of the following:
* a setting (pref. one of mine, or a fandom you already know I’m part of)
* a character/pairing
* a mood
* three words
* a color

and, over the next while, I may write a story.

You may leave more than one set of these (for instance: Jamian, pink, triste; Vas’ World, darkness/flowers/running).

As always, my list of settings are here: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/938780.html

A look at my tags page: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/tag/ in the “character” section will give you a broad swath of the characters I write about.

Cheers!

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/960606.html. You can comment here or there.

Nightmare in Gotham, a story based on a dream

This is almost 100% based on one of my dream/nightmares last night. It’s not the entire dream, and I filled in some background and smoothed a couple things out. But the rest – it’s as dreamed

Zombie Apoc AU, Gotham/NYC DC/Marvel

The Joker’s crew was clearing buildings again.

Other neighborhoods, sure, the Bats protected, but there were only so many of them. A couple neighborhoods, the Family protected, and the Penguin was rumored to have his whole underground town laid out in the basements of fallen buildings.

But over here, nobody but the Joker ruled. Those who cared about such things did a lot of hiding — not that everyone wasn’t hiding, anyway. People said the zombie threat was past, but could you believe them? They’d said that before, and look where that had gotten the world.

Once a week or so — as the joker got bored — they would pick a building, at random or at will — and scour through it, taking anything that his Funnyship wanted. “Tax,” they called it. Sometimes a more clever minion would point out that the Joker’s crew protected them from zombies. Nobody believed that. The Joker’s crew protected them from the Joker, mostly.

They were halfway through a tenement, one that probably hadn’t changed much in terms of residents or quality of living since the world ended. Things were going pretty smooth — some shouting, sure, but when you stuck a comically large gun in someone’s face, usually they stopped arguing pretty fast — and then this thug in spandex came ripping out of a room they’d already cleared.

He was wearing red and blue, with some sort of spiderweb pattern all over his top, and his mask had big eyes like goggles. He plowed into the Joker and pushed them both out a broken window, till they were struggling and fighting on the brickwork like some sort of circus act.

“Isn’t Spider-man supposed to be all thin and wiry?” one mook asked. This guy was built like a stack of bricks, heavy and dense — and he was fast, moving like a whirlwind, and somehow still sticking on the side of the building while he did so. A couple minions tried to join the fray, only to find themselves thrown off like so much chaff.

“You think he’s a zombie? The mask and all.” New Mook had joined up for the safe place to sleep and the food. Older Mook stared at him for a moment, then shook his head.

“Nah. Zombies are all gone, remember?”

The Boss was holding his own. The Boss held his own against all comers, lately. If his older mooks had noticed that he was a little less verbal and a lot more carnivorous lately, well… nobody said a word. You worked for the Joker, you were used to not saying a word.

“Think we oughta help?”

Another hapless bystander joined the fray, only to fly off at breakneck speeds.

“Nah.” One of them would survive, and then they’d figure out where they stood.

The guy in red went rocketing out of the fray like his hair was on fire, bouncing off walls before appearing to explode in a puff of smoke. The boss climbed back up the wall and into the broken window, brushing dust and spiderwebs off his tattered suit.

“Done,” the Joker quipped, his smile a bit redder than it had been before. The mooks nodded, muttered their yessirs, and went back to clearing the buildings.

~

Peter lingered at the edge of town for a while, studying the river. He was going to have to leave. He’d felt the symbiote climbing higher and higher in his brain during the fight, until it made a grab just as the Joker tried to bite him. Another battle like that, and there wouldn’t be any Peter left.

The suburbs were empty, everyone said. He’d go there.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/960110.html. You can comment here or there.

The Call Comes Again, a continuation of a fanfic of Narnia and Valdemar

first: A Door in the Wall
Second: On the Other Side of the Door

…Perhaps you could find the help that you needed as well

Susan looked at Edmund, who was frowning. She looked at Lucy, who wore a smile which was at the same time hopeful and very confused. She looked finally at Peter, who was looking what she thought of as Kingly.

Help that they needed? What could it be that they all needed together?

Peter took a step forward. He bowed politely to the cat and cleared his throat. “Please,” he said, sounding so much like a schoolboy that it hurt Susan to listen. Who was this shy boy? “Where are we? And who am I speaking to?”

::You are in the southernmost corner of a nation called Valdemar, in a world that is not that which you were born on, nor the same world as your Narnia. And I am Tesnel. I am a Firecat, a representative of Vkandis Sunlord.:: The Cat – Firecat, Susan supposed – took a moment to groom herself. ::I was chosen to speak to you because of your affinity towards other catlike avatars of the gods. And… we need your help.::

Well, that was certainly an introduction. Susan, as she had so often done with Animals in Narnia, sat down on the ground to be closer to eye level with the Firecat. “What is it you need our help with? And, I’m sorry, but… do you have any proof?”

::Your time in both lives has made you cynical, Daughter of Eve.:: The cat did not sound as if she disapproved.

“Susan–” Peter began, but the cat cut him off.

::And I have brought some gifts for you that I believe may help you trust.:: The cat blinked, and a pile of objects appeared in front of her.

This was a magic Susan had not seen before, fascinating and strange. To make things appear out of nowhere! But the objects themselves — that was even more fascinating.

“Is that… is that my bow?” She knelt down, remembering at the last moment to wait politely for the others.

Edmund hung back, but, then again, Edmund had not received a present from Father Christmas all those years ago. Poor Edmund, Susan thought suddenly, to be reminded forever of what had really been one foolish, childish mistakes. As if none of the rest of them had ever done anything silly!

::Step forward, King Edmund. you have not been forgotten. Father Christmas, I am told, made a special trip for you.:: The Firecat nudged a package forward, wrapped in red paper with golden ribbons. ::Open it.::

Susan looked at Lucy, who was cradling her gifts. She looked at Peter, who was checking the line of his sword and posing. She looked back to Edmund, who was staring at the small package nervously.

::You were called the Just, and although it may not be fair that your gifts have waited so much longer than those of your siblings, it is just, for these gifts will serve you in much greater stead here in Valdemar.:: Tesnel pushed the package towards Edmund with a paw. ::Open it, King Edmund.::

Susan sat down next to her younger brother. “Open them, Ed. It’s okay.”

“You know why Father Christmas didn’t give me gifts when he gave them to the rest of you lot.” Edmund did not look at Susan; he was staring at the wrapped parcels. “I don’t deserve these.”

“I say,” Susan said, as firmly as she could muster, “that if Father Christmas says that now is the time for these presents, well then, you oughtn’t do him a disservice by ignoring them. Come on, Ed. It’s time.”

Edmund pierced her with a look, such an inscrutable look that Susan struggled not to gasp. “‘It’s time’, says Queen Susan. Then I guess it must be.” He opened the package, his fingers seeming to tremble on the wrappings.

::To be just,:: Tesnel seemed to whisper in their minds, ::you need both strength and understanding. The mace is an ugly weapon, King Edmund, that you remember that war is ugly and use it only when needed. And the vial, well, that offers understanding. One drop on your tongue, and you will speak any language. One in your ear, and you will understand any speech. One drop on your eyes, and you may read or write any language.::

Edmund managed a thank you that was rather stammered. To Susan’s eyes, he looked stunned. He touched the gifts again, as if reassuring himself that they were truly there.

::You will all have need of yours gifts soon, I’m afraid.:: Tesnel bowed her head. ::You have been called here because, as Narnia once was, Valdemar is now: they are in need of help. Soon, a companion will arrive to explain things to you. But know this, children of another land, kings and queens of Narnia: :: The firecat looked solemn and serious, in the way they had only known one other feline to look. ::This is not an easy road, but it is a necessary one. And it may be that you four are the only ones who can walk it.::

The firecat wiggled its whiskers, a gesture that should have been comical and was instead sad, and was gone, leaving the four of them standing alone in front of a strange forest.

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/963929.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/958642.html. You can comment here or there.

Damage Control, a very-likely-non-canon story of Cynara (And Leo), c. 2009

The call came while they were watching TV after dinner: Supernatural, which amused Cynara on one level and reminded her of school in a whole different way.

“Got it,” she answered. The kids were listening, so she tried to make her voice sound reassuring. “I’ll take care of it. Thanks.”

On TV, the Brothers Winchester were fretting about how one couldn’t be a monster hunter and have a family. Cynara pulled her Kept aside. He was new, but he was already proving himself to be reliable and reasonably level-headed.

“Look, I’ve got to take care of a thing.” She saw Yoshi was watching her, but what could she do? The life sort of came up on you, regardless of if you had kids or not. “Everything should be okay here, but if anyone comes to the door, if anything strange happens — look, this is not an order, I am trusting you to use your judgement. But if it gets scary, lock yourself and the kids in the bedroom – their bedroom, the windows are protected – and stay out of sight, okay?”

He was fresh out of Addergoole; things being weird really didn’t faze him. He nodded. “Do what you have to do, boss.”

Maybe she was getting better at picking them. “Thanks, hon.” She gave him a kiss, hugged the kids and told them to behave, picked up Go Bag #3, and headed out.

Her first stop was a quick Find, looking for SWAT-worthy crime that hadn’t been noticed by the cops yet. She slipped on her gloves, and, standing across the road and behind a tree, made a hurried 9-1-1 call.

“I think they’re selling guns,” she whispered worriedly. “And they have some woman tied up…”

It was a bad scene, but nothing the cops couldn’t handle. And it would keep them busy.

She dropped the phone in a garbage can a few blocks away and made another call of a similar nature a few miles away. Once she’d gotten the third one down — it was amazing how much crime went on unnoticed in this city — she started making the other calls.

Her friend at 9-1-1 wasn’t supposed to give away any information, but he could confirm three phone calls of a man with “some sort of sword.” He could also deny that there had been any calls of anyone being attacked. Yet.

A quick web search told her the three most likely targets; the two that were most likely innocent got a call in from her second and third burner phones, a bomb threat and a weather warning. She dropped those phones in the river and a garbage can, respectively, and hopped back in the car.

The trick wasn’t finding him. Cynara could find him anywhere on the planet. The trick was minimizing the possible damage.

She made one more call, this one from her own call. “I’ve got it in hand.” The police were thoroughly distracted. The potential victims — the ones that were probably not actually Nedetakaei — were warned. Now all she had to do was either help Leo kill monsters or talk him down from killing innocent people.

She made another phone call, just in case, and kept driving.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/956987.html. You can comment here or there.

Poll, poll, poll

Last chance~

http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/955370.html

The Poll controls the Prompt call

The prompt call controls the ideas

The ideas control the stories

Stories are the mind-killer.

I must not story.

Wait.

The Stories control the…

Wait.

Anyway: Vote!

http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/955370.html Closed!

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/956455.html. You can comment here or there.

Patreon Posts in June

June was a busy month for Patreon!

You can find all of the stories here; for the low price of $1/month, you can read all patron-only stories.

Stranded World
A Tangled Knot – a story of tangling (Free story)

Love Stories
Ashes and Love – a tale of enduring love
The Warlord’s Cat – like a cat loves its human (Free story)
Five Locks – forbidden love

Tír na Cali
Leaving the Land of the Free – and wanted to be a slave
Fox Hunt – with a 2-legged “fox”
Sale Price – on a slave, no returns (Free story)

Check them all out here!

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/956305.html. You can comment here or there.