and now I'm going to the library

[bedlamsbard]

God damn it, this chapter is supposed to get shorter as I rewrite it, not longer. Oh, well, at least it's adding much needed description. Maybe I can...stick an Arn Abedin POV chapter in the middle? Or switch the second half to a Susan POV? (Yes, because we need Susan's trauma from her POV. It's a shit fight scene anyway; I would have wanted to rewrite it before posting one way or another.)

Um, in other news, Dust 15 was done at 12.5K last night. I'm now making it, you know, coherent. (Usually I don't do that much rewriting unless I'm scrapping huge parts, but the second half of Dust 15 is a scattered mess.)

In yet more news, someone please explain to me why this song is, in my head, a catalogue of Warsverse Susan's boyfriends in England, with some Peter scattered in the midst?

Random bits of fic in progress:

Peter lets the water run down his face and hair, beneath his shirt, gathering in the hollows of his collarbones, and thinks of going home. He closes his eyes for a moment, letting his memory build up Narnia and Cair Paravel around him, turning the sound of the street into the Shifting Market below the castle, reaching out blindly for the distant sound of the ocean, transfiguring the sound of a wooden sign straining on its hinges to a scarlet banner fighting the wind. (Dust 15)

*

By the time the great cats' eyes are glowing in the dark and the light of the half-moon is the only way Peter can see his hands raised in front of his face, he has no more excuses. The talking animals are too diplomatic to say anything along the general lines of, "We're lost, aren't we?" so it's up to Peter to say it. (untitled first year Golden Age fic, Peter gen)

*

"You should visit Tashbaan again," Rabadash suggests. "The city is quite pleasant at this time of the year and the gardens must be seen to be believed. The whole of Calormene nobility will be at the palace and the evenings will be filled with stories, music, dancing, and other entertainments that cannot be found outside Calormen. You will never want to return to Narnia after a month spent in Tashbaan." (untitled pre-HHB fic, Peter/Susan)

*

The new year brings with if three feet of snow even in the Southern Marches, prompting a faun fortune-teller who calls himself a prophet to begin squawking about the fated return of the White Witch and a second Long Winter, sure to begin any day now. Peter would be somewhat concerned about people believing him if the Soutehern Marches hadn't gotten the least snow in the country; it's over the head of a tall centaur in the High Reaches and the Western Waste isn't much better off. (untitled late Golden Age fic, Peter/Susan, for snacky)