Friendly Reminder That This Blog Is Pro-choice And If You Don’t Think Everyone Should Have Full Control

phases of joining a new fandom

1. obsessively consume all canon content faster than human beings should be capable 2. pick a ship at random and read 2/3 of everything that exists on AO3 for that ship 3. The YouTube Edits Phase™ 4. what’s in this tag on tumblr? (repeat as many times as necessary) 5. scream

I think this possibly might be the funniest thing I've ever seen

Gotta make room for new mistakes in 2021!

Requested by: @rora-s

Pairing: Peter Pevensie X male!reader

Setting: the Golden Age

Warning: none

P.s. if you find any mistake please correct me, English is not my mother tongue and I want to improve. Reblog, if you can, it helps a lot, thank you💕

P.p.s. gifs belong to the creators.

The Guard

Peter Pevensie knew how to be serious, controlled, stoic. He was good at looking professional, at appearing royal and detached, he was a natural. There was almost nothing that could make him lose his self control, except y/n. Every time Peter saw him walking in the castle in his uniform, he could help but stare at that handsome boy, wondering how could he look so perfect. Peter never really questioned his own sexuality, he never really felt the necessity to label himself, but he never even liked a boy that much as he liked y/n before. Since he started working at Cair Paravel as a guard, Peter felt the desire to talk to him, to get to know him, to spend time with him: he had the biggest crush.

Of course he hadn't been able to say anything to his siblings yet, he used to wonder how would they have reacted and he wasn't even sure that y/n was actually interested in him as well. Weeks passed before he decided that was time to do something; that day, y/n had just finished his shift, he looked tired but joyful as always, with that big smile that made Peter' stomach fill with butterflies. The boy waved his hand at his colleagues and slowly walked toward the gardens, to leave the castle. Peter bit his lower lip and walked to him. "Hey!" Peter nervously said. Y/n turned, his face showing all of his surprise: King Peter had never talked to him before and had never actually been so close to him, so y/n couldn't help himself but think that he really was handsome, with those deep blue eyes and those blonde locks. He blushed and bowed. "Your Highness." He kindly said. Peter shook his head. "Please, call me Peter. You're name is y/n, right?" He said, his voice gentle. Y/n opened his mouth, not expecting such a request. It was extremely intimate to call a monarch by his name. Not to mention how shocked he was because of the fact that his king knew his name.

He nodded. "Yes, Peter, my name is y/n, is there something I can do for you?" He asked and nervously squeezed the hilt of his sword, he felt overwhelmed: he had been fantasizing about talking to king Peter for months. Everyone knew how gentle and smart he was and y/n always found him interesting. Working to Cair Paravel gave him the chance to see him, from times to times, mostly busy taking care of royal business and affairs, but he never had the guts to talk to him. After all, he was his king and he was a simple guard. Peter moved a lock of his hair from his face, the golden crown on his head shining in the sunlight, and stared at him. "Actually, yes. This may sound strange but I..." He tried to say, his hands nervously playing with the hem of his shirt. Y/n raised an eyebrow, inviting him to go on. "I was wondering if you would like to, you know, some day..." He nervously looked at his feet while his mind was apparently having difficulty with basic human search for the right words. Y/n finally understood and widened his eyes. "Peter, are you trying to ask me to go on a date with you?" Y/n asked, his voice half surprised, half enthusiastic. Peter glanced at him, his cheeks getting a light shade of pink. He sighed and nodded, then he immediately tensed up. "I mean, I don't know if you... If you are not comfortable with this..." He tried to say, but y/n sweetly chuckled and put a hand on his shoulder. "Peter, I'd love to go on a date with you." He said, his y/e/c eyes eyes stuck into his blue eyes.

Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise, he needed a moment to process, then the brightest smile lighted up his face. "Really? Great! I mean, cool! Tomorrow then?" He asked, he seamed out of breath. Y/n nodded and laughed, his heart filling with happiness. "Yes, okay." He said and Peter took a deep breath, then he took his hand and squeezed it while taking a step toward him. Y/n looked at him getting closer and placing a soft, innocent kiss on his cheek. Then Peter looked at him, his blue eyes so intense that y/n felt like they could see into his soul. Peter smiled. "I'm looking forward to seeing you." He whispered before leaving his hand, one last smile before turning back and walking toward his castle. Y/n touched his cheek with his fingers, stil not believing that something so incredible was happening, slightly panicking because he was a king, a damn king. He smiled, he was happy after all, and decided to enjoy that moment. Peter, on the other hand, never felt more convinced that something absolutely beautiful was about to start.

The Derivative Chapter 16: Letters

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 15

“When you said that you purchased a new car, this isn’t exactly what I was picturing” Charlie pointed out as we approached Larry’s new classic.

“I don’t think any of us were,” I murmured.

“Oh, I know.” Larry said, rubbing his face with his hands “I guess it was a little impulsive of me, right?”

“Very Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” Amita commented.

“Nice car, Dr. Fleinhardt” we turned at the new voice to see Megan approaching. “Is it new?”

“Well, only in the sense that it’s newly in my possession” Larry explained.

“And it’s like, a ‘32?” the agent inquired.

“Uh ‘31, actually” the professor corrected. “Dawn of an amazing decade: F.D.R., Jesse Owens, Dirac’s prediction of antiparticles.” me, Amita, and Charlie exchanged looks as the man continued to speak “Yeah, our souls were rekindled.”

“I can’t help but see it as 70-year-old technology,” Charlie stated as Megan went around the other side of the vehicle to get a better look.

“What? Do you have no sense of nostalgia?” I asked.

“Yes, but also one of practicality” my uncle objected.

“You’re just jealous because you can’t drive a stick shift,” Larry told Charlie with a grin.

“Hey you can’t beat automatic transmission with cruise control.” Uncle C stated.

“Charlie tells us you’re looking for Skylar Wyatt’s stalker.” Amita spoke to Megan before I could get my next sarcastic comment out.

“Yeah, her security video didn’t pick up his image.” the agent explained “and I understand that camera placement is done by math formulas? Well, whoever designed it probably isn’t as good as you, so maybe you’ll find something they missed” she handed Charlie a disc.

“Larry, a more modern pursuit” Charlie declared.

“Okay” Larry chuckled, following Charlie off toward his office.

_____________

I chopped down on another spoonful of cereal as I read my book sitting cross-legged in a chair by the window. “Chvatal’s Art Gallery Theorem?” Charlie proposed.

Larry ripped a piece of tape off with his mouth as he stood up. “That would assume a simple polygon, though, wouldn’t it?” he pointed out.

“Polygons” Charlie grumbled.

“Wow” Alan exclaimed coming into the dining room from the kitchen “I was wondering why we had no cereal left or anything else that was in the cupboard”

“I didn’t let all of it go to waste” I pointed out, holding up my bowl so Gramps could see it.

He nodded slightly, his eyes on the cardboard structure Larry and Charlie had constructed on the table. “What in the world..”

“I needed the cartons,” Charlie explained. “we’re building a replica of Skylar Wyatt’s house. We’re checking the positioning of her security cameras for a blind spot.”

“Why didn’t you just go to the house and use that?” Alan inquired.

“Well, as part of this test, we need to be able to manipulate these walls so as to determine what types of angles would be possible under different scenarios” Charlie informed. “That’ll help us calculate these potential blind spots.”

“And for some reason, they won’t let us move the walls of the actual house,” Larry muttered.

“How inflexible of them,” Alan quipped looking over the replica.

“Like you could even move the walls” I muttered around a bite of cereal turning the page of my book.

“What is, uh” Alan walked around Larry to the other side of the replica “what are those?” he pointed to two little black marks on the board.

“That’s where the FBI found two footprints,” Uncle C answered.

“Ah. What conclusions have you come up with?” Alan asked.

“Polygons are annoying” I offered sarcastically as Charlie shook his head.

“For some reason,” Larry said, picking up one of the clips that was supposed to be a camera, “we have too many cameras.”

“That’s probably because neither one of you can read a blueprint” Alan muttered. Heading over to where the blueprints were stacked and putting on his glasses. “Let me just take a look at this.” his eyes bounced from the replica to the blueprints for a moment “now, you see here, you got the slide door in the wrong place, and the dimension of the parapet is wrong. It’s too high. Let me fix it for you.” he picked up a pair of scissors and started cutting.

“I-I feel like I’m in the fifth grade again” Charlie scoffed “remember, uh remember, Dad, when we did that show box thing?”

“Yeah, the diorama,” Alan agreed.

“Right,” Charlie smiled.

“Of Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address” gramps explained. “Yeah, your mother and I were so happy to be able to help you out with anything school-related that you conned us into doing the whole thing for you”

“I- hey! What are you..? I helped calculate the aspect ratios so we could get the depth effect right” Charlie objected.

“Yeah, and certainly aspect ratios were the key to perhaps the greatest oratory ever written” Larry muttered sarcastically as I chuckled and Charlie waved a hand at him in dismissal.

“There it is,” Alan declared, holding up the properly cut parapet. “Right size”

“Every entry and exit point seems to be covered in this array” Charlie voiced looking the replica over “the cameras should have seen him”

“Okay, well forgive me if I seem overly reductive here, but how do we know anyone was actually in this house?” Larry questioned.

“Well, you had that celebrity, right?” Alan pointed out “she said she saw him”

“People can lie,” I cautioned.

“Right. But there are also these footprints, guys.” Charlie objected. “I mean, this isn’t, uh, Sasquatch.”

“Must be something wrong with the cameras,” Gramps declared.

“Hacked? Or bad maintenance?” I suggested.

“They were all functioning” Charlie informed, putting his hands over his head and beginning to pace around the table.

“Well, maybe, there’s something wrong with the way they function.” Alan muttered.

“Okay, let’s remember: the human eye can only detect color within a certain narrow range of the spectrum. Now a camera, which replicates the ability of the human eye, is just as limited if not more so.” Larry mused.

“You’re right” Charlie declared leaning down “the camera’s an eye and eyes don’t see everything”

“So instead of Sasquach a ghost?” I asked sarcastically as I took another bite of cereal.

____________

“You’ve got to drive it more Larry” Amita stated as me, her, and the guys walked through campus. “I mean, you just take it to campus then bring it home”

“That car deserves the open road, Fleinhardt.” Charlie agreed.

“And it’ll make you look cool driving down the street” I pointed out.

“But the very thought of staining that perfect finish with sooty exhaust,” Larry objected “exposing it to the negligence of some Humvee driver on a cell phone”

“All right, Larry, it’s a car” Uncle C insisted “It’s whole function is to transport you from point A to point B”

“See, this is the philosophical schism” Larry declared “between a student of applied science and a student of the cosmos. For me aesthetic beauty is its function enough.”

“Or that’s just the excuse of a nervous physics professor” I quipped from the other side of my Uncle who chuckled slightly.

“Well, the aesthetic beauty of the sun is that it works,” Amita pointed out “not just that it’s bright”

“Hell of a point” Charlie agreed as we approached the car in question.

“Well, maybe it’s more art than a machine,” Larry suggested leaning on the vehicle.

“Yeah and art’s meant to be displayed” I stated.

“Hey, Megan” Amita called in greeting and I turned to see my father’s partner approaching.

“Hey, guys,” she replied.

“Hey. Uh, you’re here for the photo enhancement.” Charlie inferred “it’s um it’s still, you know, enhancing” he stammered.

“No, I’m here for FISH” she replied.

“The aquatic creature or handwriting analysis thing?” I asked with a slight smirk.

Charlie chuckled lightly putting a hand on my shoulder “I’m positive she’s referring to the Forensic Information System for Handwriting” he then turned back to her however Megan’s gaze was fixated on Larry’s car “All I’ll say is that I helped develop an algorithm for the secret service, uh, based on segmentation, or writing elements, that are considered to be in isolation, such as whole words or words separated by pen lifts-”

She held up a hand, her attention returning to the mathematician “at the moment, we’re not having a lot of luck with it.” Megan explained.

“Yeah, I’ve always thought that we missed something in the development of the software” Charlie informed “so I’m going to take another crack at it. What do you say?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Megan murmured. She handed over a stack of papers she’d been holding “thanks Charlie” she then headed over to the car to give it a look as I craned my neck over my Uncle’s shoulder.

He quickly shifted the papers away from me “oh come on Uncle C I’m just looking” I complained

“Maybe but with you Just looking normally turns to just tinkering and then just tinkering becomes just helping and just helping turns into Don mad at me” Charlie grumbled.

“Hey well it’s not like he can ground you” I muttered.

_________________

I finally finished setting up my new laptop with a happy sigh leaning back on the couch. Gramps had bought me it for a late birthday present. He’d figured I’d need one for school now that I was in college. It definitely helped. The reason it was late was because he had to get Amita’s advice on which was the best. I was very happy with the choice.

I was jogged from my thoughts by a knock on the door. I closed my laptop and got up. Charlie and Gramps were both in the garage right now so it was up to me to get the door. I opened it and was somewhat surprised to see a man standing there in a suit with short dirty blonde hair.

He looked equally as surprised to see I’d answered the door “uh, is this the Eppes house?” he asked.

“Yeah” I replied hesitantly “who are you?”

“Uh,” he reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Agent Colby Granger I work with Don he sent me over to check on Charlie’s work see if he’s got anything”

“Oh okay” I murmured, getting a good look at the badge before allowing him in. “Him and Gramps are in the garage. I’ll show you” I closed the door behind us and started leading him through the house.

“So, uh, who are you again?” Granger inquired.

“I’m Abby. Don’s daughter” I informed him.

“Don has a kid?” Granger muttered in shock as we exited the back door.

“Obviously” I replied. Showing him into the garage. “Uncle C we got a visitor” I announced, leading Agent Granger into the garage.

“Charlie, hey” Granger greeted my Uncle with a smile and handshake then turned to Gramps “Mr. Eppes, nice to see you.”

“Well hey” Alan exclaimed in greeting.

“So Don sent me down here to check and see how the handwriting analysis was going,” Granger informed.

“I was just telling my father that we failed to have the FISH program take into account that the shape of an individual letter varies depending on where it’s place in a word” Charlie explained “you write and ‘O’ different;y is there’s an ‘S’ placed in front of it Accounting for that, I found some interesting things out about these letters that we didn’t expect” Charlie lead the agent over to one of his chalkboards as I cleared a little space and hopped up to sit cross legged on the desk in the center of the room next to my grandfather.

“All right, what was that?” Granger asked.

“Hey, look at this” Gramps spoke up before the agent could get his answer “this letter was an original” he pulled a pink piece of paper from a stack on the desk “Hey, Charlie, they let you handle actual evidence?”

“Give that to me” Charlie snapped quickly.

“Wait, there shouldn’t be originals,” Granger objected, “you should only have copies.”

“Actually, that’s not one of Skylar Wyatt’s letters,” Charlie explained.

“Yeah, I know. It’s addressed to you” Alan said.

“Then why did you ask if it was evidence?” I inquired but went ignored.

“Is that lavender I smell?” Gramps asked, sniffing the card.

“Yes, lavender” Charlie muttered uncomfortably, plucking the card from his father’s hands.

“Nice, Charlie” Granger chuckled then his phone rang. “I got to take this, I'll be right back” the agent shuffled out of the room.

“So who’s it from?” Alan inquired.

“I hope not anybody I know” I muttered. Then thought about it for a minute “unless it’s Amita”

“Who the hell knows?” Charlie exclaimed exasperatedly “it’s not signed.”

“Not signed?” Alan questioned “since when does a college professor receive anonymous fan letters?”

“You kidding?” Charlie asked, seeming a little surprised at the question “Richard Feynman was a stud. He got marriage proposals by the dozen. Einstein was a true sex symbol.”

“Charlie, don’t you think that’s from Amita?” Alan inquired.

“That’s what I want to know,” I declared.

“Actually, um, no” Charlie admitted “because I already compared it to her writing”

“Oh” me and Alan both exclaimed in annoyance.

“So the old FISH system is inefficient” Grange spoke up, getting off his phone “but it kicked out a name, Lawrence Pike. His handwriting matches the stalker’s”

“Okay, that’s all good but-”

“But the problem is this guy’s been in jail in Utah for the last three months” Granger cut Charlie off “so he can’t be the stalker”

“Which is exactly what I was about to tell you” Charlie explained “the same person did not write all of these letters” he walked around the desk again leading Granger back to the chalkboard they’d started at “my analysis say there’s a first writer and a copycat”

_________________________

“I can’t retrofit a 1931 car with seat belts,” Larry objected.

“Why not?” Alan asked.

“Because it’s not authentic to the period,” Larry explained as we walked through the school campus.

“What I meant was, it’s authentic to this period” Alan pointed out.

“It’s totally physics Larry” Charlie stated “I mean, without a seat belt, you could get hurt even in a minor accident”

“Car accidents shouldn’t be taken lightly” I declared, trying to keep my voice light.

“Abby is right” Alan agreed placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder “you could get badly hurt”

“Look, if I'm in an accident in that car, I hope I don’t survive,” Larry declared.

“Well isn’t that a bit dramatic” I scoffed. Swallowing the small lump in my throat and infringing memories.

“Look, it’s a love affair, me and that car” the physicist explained “with affairs of the heart you know, sometimes common sense gets thrown out the window.”

“Yeah, or through the windshield” Alan muttered. I shifted uncomfortably and he shot me a concerned look.

“Hey, speaking of affairs of the heart,” Larry redirected the conversation thankfully onto Charlie “did you ever find out who sent you that anonymous note?”

“Oh, yeah, I was wondering about that.” Gramps agreed.

“Student or teacher?” I asked curiously.

“No, not yet,” Charlie muttered.

“I think we should run a handwriting analysis against the school’s records office,” Larry suggested.

“You know what? I’ve decided I don’t need to know” Uncle C declared.

“Oh, yes, you do,” Alan objected.

“Whoever it was they chose not to sign it,” Charlie explained “maybe because they’re just not ready to tell me.”

“Well, I think that’s very wise” Larry murmured “let your life retain some mystery”

“Yeah, or the poor student forgot their name and thinks you're ignoring them now” I muttered pessimistically which earned me a look from my uncle.

“Yeah. Besides, you haven’t figured out what to do with the girl you already know about” Alan pointed out. We all nodded before continuing our walk down the path.

Chapter 17 ->

list of favorite things as a fanfic author:

When someone is really freaking mad at me for inducing an emotional response from them

when readers give me a background of how/when they read my writing

when readers give me a background of why they shouldn’t have been reading my writing (usually while at work)

when readers quote my work back to me in comments

the frickin’ real heroes here, the ones who comment on every chapter of an ongoing multi-chapter fic

Dirt on My Face Chapter 2: Unbelievable

Chapter 1

I was woken by the cold shock of snow being tossed in my face. I spluttered and sat up in the crook of Malic’s branches. “Malic!” I whined “what was that for?”

The tree laughed with a shake, his branches clattering with each other. One branch swooped down toward me. I ran a hand along it and on it’s end formed a beautiful red apple. I plucked it delicately.

“Well I guess breakfast makes up for it” I muttered. I bit into the apple and savored the sweet taste.

Few trees in the orchard produced apples to share anymore. The only reason they had before was because of the dryads of the village enriching them with their magic. Now after years of that magic’s absence many of the trees had returned to their quiet fretting.

Once I was done eating I climbed down Malic’s branches, my feet splashing up some snow with my landing. “Alright I’m off to the beavers then” I told him. “I’ll be back later” I lifted a hand to his trunk and felt his warmth run off on me. With a smile I hurried off into the woods.

The natural order of the woods was to move fast and keep hidden. This was especially certain for dryads. The Witch hated our natural magic that could make things grow. Beaver supposed that was why she destroyed the village when I was younger. I wasn’t as sure.

My father had been well known in The Wood. He spoke out against the witch and wasn’t afraid to fight for what was right. The Beaver’s don’t really talk about it but I knew that any resistance that might have formed when I was younger had been squashed upon his and my mother’s deaths. Despite this I still held hope that things would get better.

I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard the familiar bark and trample approach of the secret police. You couldn’t be seen by the secret police. My heart rate picked up and a jolt of fear shot through my veins.

I scrambled over to a nearby tree nearly face planting in the dirt. After placing a dirty hand to his trunk I was granted a hiding place up in his branches. I prayed the wolves would pass by below without an issue.

Unfortunately my luck is horrible. Two patrols met and stopped to compare notes right below me. I took this as a spying opportunity though, and tried to hear them below. Making sure to keep out of any kind of line of sight were they to look up. I shifted on the branch and accidentally banged my forehead into a higher limb. I held on and made sure not to fall or make too much noise. Holding a hand to my head I forgot they were covered in mud. Further attempts to clean my now dirty face failed.

"What did you find?" said a gruff voice I knew as Maugrim head of the secret police. If he was here then whatever was going on had to be serious. I abandoned trying to wipe my face clean and listened intently.

"Not much sir the trees aligned with us don't have much recollection of an event such as that." Spoke one of the wolves from the other patrol.

“Of course, not many here support her majesty." Said his companion

"This isn't good her majesty will not be pleased" stated the wolf with Maugrim

"Do any of you really believe that these rumors are true?" the first wolf spoke.

"Quiet don't speak like that" the second scolded.

"This is the fifth time we've gotten such an accusation in the last couple days." he argued.

"Silence" Maugrim snapped. "Do not question the Queens orders or I'll gut you myself on her command"

"Yes sir" the wolf out of turn whimpered.

"Now back to work" the wolves headed off at Maugrim’s command.

I listened for their sounds to fade before climbing down. “Thank you” I whispered to the tree before heading on off to the Beaver’s.

“Beaver! Beaver!” I called crouching down to knock on the door. “You’re never going to believe this.”

The door opened and Mrs. Beaver gave me a questioning look. “Arbor? What in heaven’s name are you screaming about and look at your face it’s covered in dirt”

I scrambled into the house. Breathing heavily. “Maugrim was in the woods” I explained “he said they got a report of something.”

“Maugrim?” Beaver inquired, hobbling out of a back room “where in The Wood?”

“Will you both keep your voices down” Mrs. Beaver scolded lightly. “The last thing we want is someone over hearing you”

“Out near Tumnus’s and the lamppost. They said they were getting reports about something in the woods and something about rumors” I told them taking a seat at the table.

Beaver sat across from me and leaned in speaking in a low voice “rumors? Tumnus’s? You know Badger told me something the other day-“

“Oh now don’t go sharing it with her” Mrs. Beaver interrupted quickly. “It could be dangerous. She’s only a child”

“Hey I’m not that young” I objected “I can take care of myself”

Mrs. Beaver huffed “you are indeed a child and you have no business getting mixed up in all this”

“What even is this?” I exclaimed.

“Aslan is-“

“Beaver!” The woman of the house silenced her husband.

“She deserves to know! Just think of her parents” Beaver told the Mrs.

“Her parents?” Mrs. Beaver sighed and lowered her voice “and just look what happened to them”

“They fought against the White Witch” I spoke up “and I want to as well”

“Now you listen here child” Mrs. Beaver gave me a motherly stare. “I don’t want you getting wrapped up in any of this. You understand me?” She walked over to the counter and collected some berries and biscuits into a little box she closed and shuffled back over to me “now you take these and go home to Malic. Go. Go on” she showed me to the door.

“I’ll be back tomorrow with your box” I told her grumpily. “And more information”

“You better now off with you” She pestered me along. “And don’t be causing anymore trouble”

“Bye” I waved one last time before turning and dashing off into the snow.

“Be careful!” I heard Mrs. Beaver's final call.

The Beavers have been taking care of me ever since my parents died. Them and Malic. They were my family here in the woods.

I ran through The Wood weaving among the trees. The box Mrs. Beaver had given me clattered in my jacket pocket. It was fun to just run free.

Then I heard the sleigh bells. I stopped in my tracks. Frozen, I listened. There was the sound of trampling feet and I ducked behind a rock not long after the Witch’s sleigh came rocketing past. I stayed very still watching it go before getting to my feet.

As she disappeared from view I felt a breath leave my lungs I hadn’t realized had been stuck. My luck really stunk today. First the wolves then the Witch’s carriage herself. I took another deep breath and turned to continue on my way when I froze. Standing not too far off was a boy.

He was dressed in blue with dark hair and eyes. A light dusting of freckles on his face and slippers on his feet he was roughly the same age as me. He looked completely out of place here in the woods. “Wh-who are you?” he asked, a rustling went through the trees and I realized very quickly that they didn’t know him. He wasn’t a dryad like me. He was a human. “Who are you?” he repeated again.

I opened my mouth to respond a little shocked just looking in his eyes. “Edmund!” There was an exclamation and the boy turned toward the voice. Without thinking I quickly ducked behind a large oak and was gifted up into his branches. Crouching there hidden.

A girl had appeared from the woods and greeted the boy. She was dressed in pink with short brown hair and more freckles. They talked for a moment. They were talking too softly for me to hear with the exception of a whining the boy made rather loudly when he shoved the girl away from him.

She turned and began to lead the way back to wherever they were from. I watched them go and saw the boy look back to where I had been with a perplexed expression. It felt weird knowing he was thinking of me.

Once they had vanished from sight I slid down the tree and felt my heart start pounding in my chest. Two humans were in the woods. Two more and we would have the entire prophecy. Spring was going to come. Narnia was going to be free. I let off an excited giggle and turned, making to head back to the Beavers with my news.

I began to run but was stopped when something leapt into my path. I slid on the snow and fell. Looking ahead I saw a wolf stalking around blocking my path. “Well, well, well, look what we have here” I turned to see Maugrim stalking forward behind me. “The rumors might not have worked out how we thought, but we still got something for our trouble. A lone little dryad”

I scrambled onto my feet looking between the two wolves and the woods. “Try it” the second wolf snapped menacingly.

I glanced between the wolves one more time before steeling myself and dashing forward. They were right behind me howling and barking and chasing. This was just a game to them. One grabbed my heel and I fell forward into the snow. Fighting against them a clawed paw tore at my arm ripping the fabric of my jacket and stinging my arm with pain. “Stop struggling we’re not going to kill you.” Maugrim growled as I gripped my arm tightly “her majesty would like to meet the last of the dryads”

I felt my heart beating in my chest. This was not good.

The Life Series

This is a series I'm doing that's going to chronicle the Pevensie's lives if they would have stayed after the Prince Caspian movie. Starting with a young dryad growing up in the White Witch's reign. To the Pevensie's triumpant return to fight the telmarines. Moving on to an awkward courtship, a small expedition on the high seas with pirates (or maybe two expeditions), a king determined not to fall in love, and then a new generation carving their own stories into the Narnian world. It's the life of a family and of a nation and it's just like any life should be: A grand adventure!

It’s here: Book 1- Chapter 1