well behaved women

Title: the fall on earth
Author: shiegra
Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia (obvious connotations of bookverse, but set movieverse)
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Caspian/Ramandu's daughter, mentions of Caspian/Susan
Summary: This new city is too loud.
A/N: Prompt from narniachronicle, (Ramandu's Daughter (pick a name for her, I usually call her Avaline <3) finding out about Caspian's old feelings for Susan Pevensie. (Book- and movie-verse.)) if a bit too late. Inspired after wildsky_sheri saw my post on Clémence Poésy and went "THAT'S RAMANDU'S DAUGHTER" and I went "OMG BRILLIANT" and was inspired to write her. This is my first try.

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Congratulations, Legend of the Seeker episode 10, for actually--from what I've heard about them--beating the books in sheer loathesomely sanctimonious idiocy. Presenting a terrible decision and then undermining one side of it every five seconds to manage such a snottily condescending tone as I've never before witnessed.

SCREW. YOU.

On the other hand, the Confessor fighting scene was fun, and Kahlan in that getup and with that attitude very possibly made my head explode on the spot. And I never understood the attraction of a dominatrix before now....

Also, they are really ignoring the incredibly skeevy depths they're taking Confession to.

Oh. Your charge is kinda pissed at you, huh? Must be magic! Couldn't be, oh, BECAUSE YOU JUST MADE HIS GIRLFRIEND KILL HERSELF.

And he couldn't have been focused on her safety because, you know, he was in love with her?

I've been catching up on Legend of the Seeker. Can't you tell?

Stolen from wolfalice -
Post a single sentence from each WIP you have (or as many as you want). No context/explanations.

• He unlaces her bodice while thunder rolls outside; she flinches a little, watches the roof, remembers stormclouds from a closer perspective.


• The sword rang free of its sheath, gray light glancing off the blade, and his mouth was a hard line of triumphant rage as he snarled, "you can hardly deny the need for her death now."


• "I'm drunk," she says, because it seems the appropriate thing to say--knocks the gin bottle over with one knee when she leans over to kiss him sloppy and deep and half-naked.


• Her calm was preternatural and manufactured, eyes deep wells, her mouth bleached bare, and the graceful stillness of one small white hand held the taut promise of violence.


• I know she left me there in the morning--pale gray rain-washed dawn--and I know she did not love me, and I know nothing else about my mother.


• The bomb went off with a sound that deafened the world, and his hand flung out to catch her--snagged her wrist as her body jerked like a ragdoll and nearly dislocated her arm--and he would not let go even as they smashed down to the ground and her mouth filled with sand.


• "Shh," she says, touches his mouth, his throat where bare pulse beats, meets the wondering darkness of his eyes--"just this once, it's enough."


• There will never be room in my heart for mercy.


• She remembers her brothers and sisters by the way they spoke to her with their hands.


• The wolf lives in her and will not abate.