i've done my sentence but committed no crime
I'm obviously on an intense Narnia kick. My paltry offerings to supplement the recent death of susancaspian; see, kitoky, we're good fangirls!
Series: along this road he lost his soul
Story: we are the champions (my friend)
Summary: [One hundred drabbles for the casue100 prompt table.] “The students of the Narnia School do not go down this easily,” she said. “We’re going to wallop St. Telmar’s. And Caspian is going to help.”
Notes: In which I turn Caspian and the Pevensie siblings into . . . Mathletes. Oh god, it sounds worse every time I say it. Why don’t we just call it a high school/secondary school AU, and leave it at that?
AU interpretations of different scenes from Prince Caspian. Prompts (in order): teammates, letters, weakness, hug, cake.
~
“With all due respect, Caspian,” said Peter, who obviously intended neither respect nor giving Caspian his due, “the last thing we need is a new member.”
“Peter,” said the taller of the girls, who frowned at this bit of rudeness and gave Caspian a cursory, polite smile. “Don’t be mean.”
“I’m being honest, Sue,” said Peter, spreading his arms and then folding them under his elbows. “We don’t need a fifth teammate. Only four can compete at a meet, and we have four members.” He gave Caspian a very unfriendly stare. “Thanks, but we’re fine.”
“Pete,” said the littler girl, “why don’t we at least give him a chance?”
“It’s only fair,” added Ed, who Caspian knew from the cricket team (and actually liked, which was more than he could say for Peter Bloody Pevensie, King of Sodding Hell). “If he’s better than any of us, he should get a spot.”
“Oh, that’s wonderfully kind of you,” said Sue, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling. “How magnanimous.”
“It seems the nice thing to do,” piped in the shorter girl.
“No, Lu, it’s a pissing contest, and I for one refuse to sit around and let Peter attempt to disarm Caspian with his manly math abilities. If it’s all the same to the rest of you, I’m going to go and grab some lunch. I’m knackered, and by the end of this I’m just going to want to kill all of you.” She stood, swept up her things, and gave Lu an imperious stare. “Are you coming?”
“I’d rather watch the pissing contest,” said Lu with a bright little grin. “Bring me back a sandwich?”
“Sure thing,” said Sue. She patted Caspian on the shoulder as she made her way out the door. “Try not to die, Caspian.” He tried not to turn red. Judging by the outraged look on Peter’s face, he didn’t succeed. “Thanks, Su,” he said (squeaked). Peter was drawing a large, intimidating-looking book from his bag.
(He was so bloody screwed.)
~
Caspian-
Do you know what the homework was in Gregor’s class?
-Susan
Susan-
Read chapters two and three, answer the odd-numbered essay questions at the end of each chapter in two paragraphs.
Caspian
P.S. Prof. Glenstorm is going to eat us alive for passing notes in class, you realize that, right?
Caspian-
You’re a darling, but you’re also a bit thick. Glenstorm’s distracted with correcting what Melanie Higgleworth calls French.
Do you really think you’re ready for the scrimmage against St. Telmar’s this afternoon? You look a little green.
-Susan
Susan-
Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry.
-Caspian
P.S. I’m not green.
Caspian-
Oh, so you’re going to be all stoic about it, are you? I know for a fact that they’ve got Carmine Sospechian and Jonathan Miraz as Co-Captains this year, and having gone to St. Telmar’s you know perfectly well that they’re both brilliant. You are allowed to be scared, you know.
-Susan
Susan-
I’m not scared, necessarily. Just wary, of course, because I should be, because I know that Carmine and Jon are both bloody fantastic at limits and we’re sodding pathetic at them.
-Caspian
Caspian-
Spoken like a true Narnian Mathlete. But please try to remember-one, I am, in fact, a member of this team, and limits happen to be my speciality; and two, Peter threw up before our first meet two years ago. Twice.
-Susan
P.S. If you go anywhere with this, I will bury you alive.
Susan-
I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply
Susan-
Of course you’re fantastic at limits, you’re fantastic at everything
Susan-
Thanks.
-Caspian
Caspian-
Any time.
-Susan
~
“You are such a child,” she said, right in his face, eyes narrowed and squinting and her forefinger poking against his chest. “Did you honestly think Jade-Jade, of all people-was the best person to go to with your bloody problems?”
Caspian could feel his face wrinkling with irritation, knew it showed and that he was getting angry back at Susan (getting angry at Susan was not, as it turned out, that hard to do. Hating Lucy was like hating puppies or daisies or little gold-flecked rainbows. It wasn’t done) but he forced his lips away from the scowl they were beginning to bend into.
“She was very convincing,” he said in a tight voice, staring into her eyes and trying not to think about her fingernail puncturing the weave of his (only, thanks to Peter and his stupid pens and stupid fight-picking) uniform vest. “And obviously as I did not accept her offer of assistance, there is no need for you to treat me like an idiot.”
“You are an idiot,” hissed Susan, frustration bleeding from her pores, hair beginning to crinkle with disappointment. “I do not understand boys.”
With that stunning delivery, she turned on her heels and left, swinging her school bag violently over her shoulder and almost braining him with her textbooks. “We will see you after school for a new strategy session!” she called. “The Mathletes don’t die this easily.”
“Bloody brilliant,” he muttered. “Can’t wait,” he called out a little louder. She gave him that annoying half-dismissive wave that was mostly annoying because it made him feel insignificant, and disappeared down the hall. “Can’t bloody wait.” He kicked a nearby locker, and swore as the bell rang. Kirke was going to kill him.
~
“How are we doing?” she asked, arms folded and wedged against her sides. He would’ve called her glacially calm, except for the nervous foot-tapping.
“We’re fine,” he said, and was somewhat surprised to realize that he actually meant it. “Maybe even better than fine.”
“Well I’m glad you’re just buggering full of happiness,” she snipped, and then took a moment to breathe in through her nose. “I’m sorry, Caspian, I’m just terrified we’re going to get there too late and Peter will have had to forfeit-”
“Susan,” he said, “we are not going to be late.” Her eyes were stuck to the advert above his head, something about the British Museum’s newest exhibit, and she had begun to gnaw on the bottom half of her lip. He watched her, a little fascinated, and came to himself violently before he did anything stupid.
“God, this is so galling,” she muttered, the lurch of the train pressing her closer against his side. “I am not an infant.”
“No,” agreed Caspian. “But it was horribly unsporting of Jonathan to nick your stuff like that, and we’re going straight to the board with it once we get to the school.”
“I am not weak,” said Susan a little fiercely, half under her breath, and Caspian knew it was a bad idea but he tucked his left arm around her shoulders and brought her closer, so the tip of her nose just brushed the skin above his tie.
“No, you’re not,” he agreed. “You’re absolutely brilliant.”
“At limits,” she added, and she didn’t move away, which he took to be something positive.
“At everything,” he corrected, and she tilted her chin up so he could see that she was smiling.
“Thanks for the lift, Caspian,” and she chuckled a bit and said to herself, “yea gods, that’s almost as bad as some of Lu’s jokes.”
“Any time,” he said.
~
“Victory!” crowed Lucy, from her perch on Edmund’s shoulders. She gave a few hawking battle cries and flapped her arms as though making wings.
“Goodness, give a girl some sugar and she’s damn near incontrollable,” said Caspian, and it wasn’t that funny except Susan was giggling into her slice of carrot cake and even Peter was smiling at bit, and at the same time they began to say:
“Once, Lu got cake . . .” and they both broke into laughter, only Susan’s was prettier and higher and Caspian didn’t really care about whether or not Peter was happy (kind of a lie; he liked Peter, even if he was a prat) as long as Susan kept on getting smudges of icing on her nose and smiling so the corners of her eyes crinkled upwards.
“. . . she was absolutely horrid to Mr. Tumnus, our young-ish literature tutor, always teasing him about his ears and this Parisian scarf he wore everywhere,” Susan was explaining, and then she must have realized Caspian wasn’t really paying attention because she stopped speaking at her eyes narrowed.
“You have some, er, icing,” said Caspian, gesturing with his hand, and she immediately turned away and began rubbing frantically at the tip of her nose, until it and her cheeks and her forehead were a bright, shiny red.
“Is it gone?” she asked, trying to regain a bit of dignity.
“No,” lied Caspian, and licked the corner of her lip, right where it creased into a dimple. “There. Gone.”
“Ooh,” stuttered Susan, and for all of his suave attempts he wasn’t looking much better, and they were awkwardly standing there, looking at each other and wondering what to do, when Lucy crashed into them from Edmund’s shoulders and the hysteria sort of washed away their confusion, until her arm was pressed against his from shoulder to elbow, and he though, We won. We beat St. Telmar’s. And, more importantly, I won (Susan).
~
I’m hoping that the scenes I chose actually survived translation (they’re kind of the five quintessential Susan/Caspian scenes, being): The Pevensies Meet Prince Caspian, Susan Backs Up Caspian’s Idiotic Decision to Dig In Their Heels at the How and Is Shut Down, Susan’s Disappointment at Caspian Almost Falling For Jadis’ Evil Plan, Caspian Rescues Susan From Telmarines and Smirks Deliciously, and That Kiss.
Series: along this road he lost his soul
Story: we are the champions (my friend)
Summary: [One hundred drabbles for the casue100 prompt table.] “The students of the Narnia School do not go down this easily,” she said. “We’re going to wallop St. Telmar’s. And Caspian is going to help.”
Notes: In which I turn Caspian and the Pevensie siblings into . . . Mathletes. Oh god, it sounds worse every time I say it. Why don’t we just call it a high school/secondary school AU, and leave it at that?
AU interpretations of different scenes from Prince Caspian. Prompts (in order): teammates, letters, weakness, hug, cake.
~
“With all due respect, Caspian,” said Peter, who obviously intended neither respect nor giving Caspian his due, “the last thing we need is a new member.”
“Peter,” said the taller of the girls, who frowned at this bit of rudeness and gave Caspian a cursory, polite smile. “Don’t be mean.”
“I’m being honest, Sue,” said Peter, spreading his arms and then folding them under his elbows. “We don’t need a fifth teammate. Only four can compete at a meet, and we have four members.” He gave Caspian a very unfriendly stare. “Thanks, but we’re fine.”
“Pete,” said the littler girl, “why don’t we at least give him a chance?”
“It’s only fair,” added Ed, who Caspian knew from the cricket team (and actually liked, which was more than he could say for Peter Bloody Pevensie, King of Sodding Hell). “If he’s better than any of us, he should get a spot.”
“Oh, that’s wonderfully kind of you,” said Sue, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling. “How magnanimous.”
“It seems the nice thing to do,” piped in the shorter girl.
“No, Lu, it’s a pissing contest, and I for one refuse to sit around and let Peter attempt to disarm Caspian with his manly math abilities. If it’s all the same to the rest of you, I’m going to go and grab some lunch. I’m knackered, and by the end of this I’m just going to want to kill all of you.” She stood, swept up her things, and gave Lu an imperious stare. “Are you coming?”
“I’d rather watch the pissing contest,” said Lu with a bright little grin. “Bring me back a sandwich?”
“Sure thing,” said Sue. She patted Caspian on the shoulder as she made her way out the door. “Try not to die, Caspian.” He tried not to turn red. Judging by the outraged look on Peter’s face, he didn’t succeed. “Thanks, Su,” he said (squeaked). Peter was drawing a large, intimidating-looking book from his bag.
(He was so bloody screwed.)
~
Caspian-
Do you know what the homework was in Gregor’s class?
-Susan
Susan-
Read chapters two and three, answer the odd-numbered essay questions at the end of each chapter in two paragraphs.
Caspian
P.S. Prof. Glenstorm is going to eat us alive for passing notes in class, you realize that, right?
Caspian-
You’re a darling, but you’re also a bit thick. Glenstorm’s distracted with correcting what Melanie Higgleworth calls French.
Do you really think you’re ready for the scrimmage against St. Telmar’s this afternoon? You look a little green.
-Susan
Susan-
Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry.
-Caspian
P.S. I’m not green.
Caspian-
Oh, so you’re going to be all stoic about it, are you? I know for a fact that they’ve got Carmine Sospechian and Jonathan Miraz as Co-Captains this year, and having gone to St. Telmar’s you know perfectly well that they’re both brilliant. You are allowed to be scared, you know.
-Susan
Susan-
I’m not scared, necessarily. Just wary, of course, because I should be, because I know that Carmine and Jon are both bloody fantastic at limits and we’re sodding pathetic at them.
-Caspian
Caspian-
Spoken like a true Narnian Mathlete. But please try to remember-one, I am, in fact, a member of this team, and limits happen to be my speciality; and two, Peter threw up before our first meet two years ago. Twice.
-Susan
P.S. If you go anywhere with this, I will bury you alive.
Susan-
I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply
Susan-
Of course you’re fantastic at limits, you’re fantastic at everything
Susan-
Thanks.
-Caspian
Caspian-
Any time.
-Susan
~
“You are such a child,” she said, right in his face, eyes narrowed and squinting and her forefinger poking against his chest. “Did you honestly think Jade-Jade, of all people-was the best person to go to with your bloody problems?”
Caspian could feel his face wrinkling with irritation, knew it showed and that he was getting angry back at Susan (getting angry at Susan was not, as it turned out, that hard to do. Hating Lucy was like hating puppies or daisies or little gold-flecked rainbows. It wasn’t done) but he forced his lips away from the scowl they were beginning to bend into.
“She was very convincing,” he said in a tight voice, staring into her eyes and trying not to think about her fingernail puncturing the weave of his (only, thanks to Peter and his stupid pens and stupid fight-picking) uniform vest. “And obviously as I did not accept her offer of assistance, there is no need for you to treat me like an idiot.”
“You are an idiot,” hissed Susan, frustration bleeding from her pores, hair beginning to crinkle with disappointment. “I do not understand boys.”
With that stunning delivery, she turned on her heels and left, swinging her school bag violently over her shoulder and almost braining him with her textbooks. “We will see you after school for a new strategy session!” she called. “The Mathletes don’t die this easily.”
“Bloody brilliant,” he muttered. “Can’t wait,” he called out a little louder. She gave him that annoying half-dismissive wave that was mostly annoying because it made him feel insignificant, and disappeared down the hall. “Can’t bloody wait.” He kicked a nearby locker, and swore as the bell rang. Kirke was going to kill him.
~
“How are we doing?” she asked, arms folded and wedged against her sides. He would’ve called her glacially calm, except for the nervous foot-tapping.
“We’re fine,” he said, and was somewhat surprised to realize that he actually meant it. “Maybe even better than fine.”
“Well I’m glad you’re just buggering full of happiness,” she snipped, and then took a moment to breathe in through her nose. “I’m sorry, Caspian, I’m just terrified we’re going to get there too late and Peter will have had to forfeit-”
“Susan,” he said, “we are not going to be late.” Her eyes were stuck to the advert above his head, something about the British Museum’s newest exhibit, and she had begun to gnaw on the bottom half of her lip. He watched her, a little fascinated, and came to himself violently before he did anything stupid.
“God, this is so galling,” she muttered, the lurch of the train pressing her closer against his side. “I am not an infant.”
“No,” agreed Caspian. “But it was horribly unsporting of Jonathan to nick your stuff like that, and we’re going straight to the board with it once we get to the school.”
“I am not weak,” said Susan a little fiercely, half under her breath, and Caspian knew it was a bad idea but he tucked his left arm around her shoulders and brought her closer, so the tip of her nose just brushed the skin above his tie.
“No, you’re not,” he agreed. “You’re absolutely brilliant.”
“At limits,” she added, and she didn’t move away, which he took to be something positive.
“At everything,” he corrected, and she tilted her chin up so he could see that she was smiling.
“Thanks for the lift, Caspian,” and she chuckled a bit and said to herself, “yea gods, that’s almost as bad as some of Lu’s jokes.”
“Any time,” he said.
~
“Victory!” crowed Lucy, from her perch on Edmund’s shoulders. She gave a few hawking battle cries and flapped her arms as though making wings.
“Goodness, give a girl some sugar and she’s damn near incontrollable,” said Caspian, and it wasn’t that funny except Susan was giggling into her slice of carrot cake and even Peter was smiling at bit, and at the same time they began to say:
“Once, Lu got cake . . .” and they both broke into laughter, only Susan’s was prettier and higher and Caspian didn’t really care about whether or not Peter was happy (kind of a lie; he liked Peter, even if he was a prat) as long as Susan kept on getting smudges of icing on her nose and smiling so the corners of her eyes crinkled upwards.
“. . . she was absolutely horrid to Mr. Tumnus, our young-ish literature tutor, always teasing him about his ears and this Parisian scarf he wore everywhere,” Susan was explaining, and then she must have realized Caspian wasn’t really paying attention because she stopped speaking at her eyes narrowed.
“You have some, er, icing,” said Caspian, gesturing with his hand, and she immediately turned away and began rubbing frantically at the tip of her nose, until it and her cheeks and her forehead were a bright, shiny red.
“Is it gone?” she asked, trying to regain a bit of dignity.
“No,” lied Caspian, and licked the corner of her lip, right where it creased into a dimple. “There. Gone.”
“Ooh,” stuttered Susan, and for all of his suave attempts he wasn’t looking much better, and they were awkwardly standing there, looking at each other and wondering what to do, when Lucy crashed into them from Edmund’s shoulders and the hysteria sort of washed away their confusion, until her arm was pressed against his from shoulder to elbow, and he though, We won. We beat St. Telmar’s. And, more importantly, I won (Susan).
~
I’m hoping that the scenes I chose actually survived translation (they’re kind of the five quintessential Susan/Caspian scenes, being): The Pevensies Meet Prince Caspian, Susan Backs Up Caspian’s Idiotic Decision to Dig In Their Heels at the How and Is Shut Down, Susan’s Disappointment at Caspian Almost Falling For Jadis’ Evil Plan, Caspian Rescues Susan From Telmarines and Smirks Deliciously, and That Kiss.