Dear Reviewers:

Wow, so many of you for this chapter! Thank-you so much! All your words make me feel so blessed. There are about half-a-million review replies are located at the end of the chapter ;) I responded to every single one! Scroll on down at the end of the chapter to see! ;) Also, type in "Pippin Strange" into the Facebook search bar and like me? I post all kinds of tidbits and sneak peaks!

I have finished the play I was in and the feedback has been incredible. It's been an awesome journey but I'm glad for a break, I have more free time now to write, and that's what I've been doing! Writing writing writing!

I hope you all have a blessed and wonderful Christmas.

Love to all,

Pip


Warning: Shirtless!Caspian. For a second. A very short second. For no particular reason. I've just always wanted to post a warning like that.

PS: I miss Edmund as much as you guys. If I can't find a way for him to return in the next chapter, it will most DEFINITELY be chapter eleven.


Strange Things Happen

By Pippin Strange


Chapter Nine,

In the Heart

Just as I suspected, Alana was indifferent to Aemon's presence, until I introduced them properly. Aemon then took the initiative to ask her questions about herself, and before long, I felt like an awkward chauffeur for their first date. They both leaned around me to make eye-contact and spoke excitedly, discovering all the marvelous things they had in common and how not difficult it would be for Alana to take a ship to Narnia next summer and visit.

I tuned them out eventually, content to let them have their fun. Soon I was standing and applauding merrily for the events of the tourney, and that allowed Aemon to slyly inch over till they were seated next to each other. I was just happy that he picked up the open doors I was leaving for him.

My heart sank for Aemon a bit, when he mentioned he was the cook's helper on the ship. Alana's tone changed to one of eager friendliness to dry politeness. I tried not to judge her for her sudden disinterest—perhaps her father had instructed her that she must marry well or lose her inheritance. Perhaps she liked Aemon immensely but guarded her heart to an extent. I could relate to that.

Aemon caught her tone change as well, and spoke less and less as the minutes wore on. I acted as if I couldn't overhear anything, and continued to cheer and blow kisses in Caspian's direction as he won and lost more matches.

They cleared the middle guard after a time and had the fencing contests. Reepicheep won three of them before a seven-foot man from Terebinthia finally outdid him. Even then, Reep could hardly hold back his admiration of the victor, and wanted him to have his second-place prize. The giant man refused (he seemed to be the type of man who might never smile) but told Reepicheep that he had never fought so gallant a foe before. Naturally, that put Reepicheep in a very good mood, and considered it an honour to lose.

After the fencing, everyone cleared out, and I thought it tournament was over. I couldn't remember any other medieval events (my knowledge from A Knight's Tale could only take me so far!) but it didn't take long to figure out.

When every knight that participated in jousting—and some from the fencing (though not all, as Reepicheep and the seven-foot man did not partake)—lined up on either side of the dusty stadium, I realized they were going to do a melee, when all the contestants fight a "battle" on horseback, and the last standing man wins. These things, from what I heard, were always brutal. What exactly would happen if someone were completely maimed? Wouldn't Lewis have mentioned something if Caspian were only one-armed? Surely Lucy or Edmund would have said, "I say, Casp! You've only got one arm!" or something of the sort. But there is no such thing in the book, so I assumed that nothing bad would happen. Though admittedly, I still felt nervous, and suddenly did not want to be a third wheel anymore.

Hold me! It's too intense! I giggled dramatically in my interior monologue. I sat back with my confused lovebirds (this time on the other side of Aemon so that he remained beside Alana) and tuned into their conversation again, and found it had improved, but only a little. Alana was explaining to Aemon some of the pressures she endured being the daughter of a wealthy father, and Aemon was resigning to letting her do whatever she felt was right for her family. They seemed to be resolved to be friends and write each other letters, and see whatever the future might bring them.

I mentally applauded them both for not letting a twenty-minute conversation determine either marriage or a tragedy worthy of a Montague or Capulet. I casually turned their attention to the tournament again, reminding them that Caspian would be fighting in this event and that I needed help spotting him in the lines of miniature armies.

Horses frothed at their bits, men in their steel uniforms held back their reins and let their visors fall. Swords rang as they came out of the sheaths.

"Ah, there's the king, third from the end, right column—he's got the red band around his arm. All the different representatives have a different color."

"I don't see him, Aemon."

"He's the one waving at you."

I giggled. "Oh. That one."

Someone blew a brassy trumpet blast, and the two lines of horses exploded forward. Dust rose as the armies clashed together.

"Aren't they going to get hurt?" I squeaked over the cacophony.

"Dull blades," Aemon assured me.

"Trampled by the horses?"

"If they aren't careful…"

"I hope no one is too badly injured after this," Alana said, concerned. "Especially your King." She looked at me sympathetically. "You must be in agony."

I stared at her for a second, forgetting our ruse. "Oh, yes," I spluttered after a pause, "I just—I just bottle it up inside. I don't know how to HANDLE this!" I rocked back and forth dramatically, lacing my fingers together and pressing my hands up to my chin as if I were praying at the side of my bed.

"Go to it, Narnia!" cheered Aemon, elbowing me. I elbowed him back and tried to pay attention to the fight. It was such a tangled mess of armor, horse legs, and dust clouds that there wasn't much to see. The sounds of battle were very loud, but the trumpet fanfare was louder, but sometimes over the celebratory music there'd be a cry of pain or a clang of weaponry.

The clatter of fighting grew quieter as more participants pulled out of the fight, limping back to the lists or leading their horses by broken bridles. A few people lay scattered on the ground, but with a little help, managed to get up and walk out of the disaster area. Only two men had to be removed by stretchers, but they were both conscious and waving at the crowd with rueful smiles on their faces as they were carried away.

Caspian was the third to last contestant to be knocked off his horse by a heavy blow to the ribs, which not only pushed him off the saddle but knocked the wind out of him as well. Knowing of course that it would only leave him with a few bruises, I affected more concern than necessary, and Alana sympathized with me as any friendly female would.

Caspian limped out of the foray, with as much decorum as he could, but I could tell he was pretty tired and probably had enough anyway. It's one thing for the islanders to play war, but Caspian has lived it to regain his rightful throne to Narnia. There might be—and though it is a rite of passage and sign of bravery—a small side of him that looked at the tournament as a necessity, not a sport.

Does the King remember the disastrous night raid when he has to participate in these tournaments because it is proper for him to do so? Perhaps I assume there's posttraumatic stress disorder when there is none, but still, it has to drudge up SOME bad memories…

I tucked the thoughts away, which a slight inclination that I'd like to ask Caspian about it later, but admitted to myself that I'd probably forget or feel to awkward to bring it up.

The winner—a Galmian—was declared, and the stands (most of them full of locals) lost their minds with raucous cheering, clapping, screaming, and throwing random items out into the arena. Aemon and I had to bid our new friend goodbye, but I waited for Aemon at the stand stairway while he exchanged letter-writing addresses with Alana.

He finally approached the stairway and I smiled at him.

"What?" he snapped defensively.

"Oh my gosh, NOTHING," I snapped back, and we stomped down in a rather sarcastic silence—if there is such a thing. I could see us easily becoming like a brother and sister. We already acted like some.

It wasn't long before we were back at the tent, and the sun was setting behind the horizon of the fair-like grounds. It was becoming breezy, and the smell of the ocean began whisking by. The tide was coming in, somewhere—I could almost hear it, just at the edge of my range, rolling like a lullaby on the edges of the island.

Knights groaned and joked and laughed as they received stitches and bandages in the tents all around. Men ran to and fro, running errands and delivering instructions to the victors for the reward ceremony to take place in the night. I waited outside for a few minutes while Aemon went in. As awkward as it is, poor Caspian needed help getting out of his armor and into normal, festive attire. He was too sore and complained—loudly—till Aemon poked his head out of the tent door and snickered, "Come in, Princess."

"Not a princess," I said quickly, not wanting Caspian to get the wrong impression, or for the wrong person to overhear and ask me where my crown was.

"Oh, I forgot, you're just a liar," Aemon joked, letting me scooch past him and into the tent. Which by this time, was much too dark and had to be lit by torches and candles.

"A very good liar!" declared Caspian as soon as I was within sight. He looked only a little terrible, with several scrapes and bruises all over his arms and face. I caught a glimpse of a very large, purple bruise across his chest and ribs before Drinian wrapped him up in a formal, itchy-looking shirt and vest.

"I suppose it's a dress-up affair tonight," I said without excitement.

"Oh yes, and you're accompanying me," Caspian said quickly. "It will not be like breakfast. Reepicheep said you seemed a little nervous this morning. I want you to sit with me."

"Keeping up the pretense?" I laughed.

"Oh yes," Caspian laughed too. Drinian coughed in disapproval.

"Lighten up," Caspian patted his shoulder. "At least Pippin is here. I should have to ask one of you to wear a dress if she—"

All the men in the tent began to groan and complain instantly.

"Please tell me you wouldn't go that far," Reepicheep exclaimed.

"Of course not, I was in jest," hissed Caspian, "I just want Drinian to count his blessings."

"I'd better change," I announced. "Care to escort me back to my tent, Reep?"

Reepicheep shook his head. "Your tent is just behind ours. I informed our esteemed hosts that it isn't safe for a lady to be in a tent among various crews in the southern half of the fields. You are a guest of His Majesty and should be treated as such."

"It was actually my idea," Aemon interjected. "I didn't want you anywhere near me."

"Hardy-har har," I gave a fake guffaw. Aemon grinned at his own joke.

"Actually, it was Aemon's idea," Reepicheep said, smiling. "These people on Galma really are gallant and grand, but, he was concerned about your safety. Our crew seemed to be scattered all over the place, and no one was within shouting distance of you. So Aemon asked me about it, and I instructed for your tent to be re-placed just behind ours."

"I see how it is," I joked sarcastically, "You guys just don't want to escort me to my tent. It's all a plot because of your incurable laziness." I winked at Aemon and smiled at Reepicheep. "What would I do without you boys?"

"Boy? Ha! A Knight of Narnia, if you please," Reepicheep scoffed.

"Right, sorry—knight! Of course. But really. What would I do without you?"

"Probably fall overboard and die," Aemon said dryly.

"This is a whole new side of you, Aemon," I laughed. "So hostile! You must feel quite comfortable around me to insult me so."

"Entirely comfortable," Aemon said lightly. "Unless you're just too easy to insult."

"Alright, children," Reepicheep said sternly. "Pippin, why don't you prepare for the banquet and the rewards ceremony? You are accompanying a king you know! Time should not be wasted!"

"Treat the lady with respect," Drinian called from the other side of the tent. A few of the men looked over now, eyes prepared for a scandal.

"I like the banter!" I said defensively. "And I'll dress nicely. Even nice enough for you, Your Majesty," I said this loudly over my shoulder as I stomped out of the tent.

"Thaaaaank-yooou," Caspian drawled after me, having heard nothing of the previous conversation.

Some very dark and evil side of me was looking forward to dressing up and acting as Caspian's date for the evening. I giggled to myself, suddenly giddy about what I might find in the trunk that the Galmian's left for me with attire suited to their customs. I wasn't sure, and I didn't want to ask, but it didn't make sense for the islanders to give me a complimentary set of clothes for the two days. It wouldn't surprise me if Aemon or Reepicheep had asked for them to provide me with something appropriate, knowing I'd be wearing trousers while on the Dawn Treader and using spare moth-eaten dresses from a Cair Paravel closet.

Nevertheless, I threw open the trunk with glee, and picked out a simple black velvet dress. It was long-sleeved, with a tight bodice and laces that held it together from the neckline to the waist, and a skirt-length that only felt a little too long. Little bits of white undergarment ruffle lined the neckline, the laced section, the sleeve edges, and the edge of the hem. It was simple, and not very fancy. But black is always classy, right?

My hair had turned into a curling, frizzy mop that stuck out in all directions. With some difficulty, I managed to use the bobby pins that were always stuck in the pencil-bag I used for my colored pencils. I usually tried to keep six or seven in there, but there was only three. I needed to make them count.

I did have a ponytail holder among them, and put my most horrible curls into a small bun at the back of my head. I used the three bobby pins to give the top of my hair and elegant bump, and left curly strands and my bangs framing my face. Then I put on cover up and mascara and left it at that. Nothing too drastic.

I just hoped this entourage would be elegant and fancy enough for dinner with the royal prats.

As it turns out—and my luck would have this—it was elegant enough, but not colorful enough. Every lady in the banquet hall was decked in red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet, gold, silver, burgundy, olive, brown, pink… everything that a rainbow and a bag of skittles would approve of… but no one, I repeat no one, wore black.

I felt at least somewhat comforted that all the Narnians, for one, thought I looked the part and complimented me on my choice. But it was clear to us all that upon entering the castle again, I was fit for a funeral, not a festival.

At least, it was clear to me. The men did not notice, and I project too much of my own discomfort on them by claiming they had noticed. I'm certain they didn't. It doesn't really matter to them anyhow.

May the reader give me permission to put myself in fast-forward? The rest that followed was repetitious and extreeeeemely dull. There was a bit of a ceremony, standing and bowing and speeches (some more sober than others) and a bit of merry-making (in this case, merry-making means some medieval dancing and prizes and riches awarded to the victors).

We partook in none of these, (except Caspian receiving a "small" trunk of wealth for his valiant victories, despite not winning the overall) but were rather shown in to the great feast. While we sat, Caspian had to continuously rise from his seat and return to the ongoing at the front of the room—where there were many introductions and offers for drinks and slaps of congratulations on his sore back—and to be bloomin' honest, I thought I might die of agitation.

I say everything was extremely dull, but it wasn't really. I had nothing to do but sit and observe, but I do find that sort of thing interesting at times. And whenever I felt tempted to complain or sigh with boredom, I reminded myself, You are in NARNIA. Or near it, anyway. You're in another universe. Count your blessings.

A woman was seated beside me. I hardly noticed her, there were hundreds—literally hundreds—of people in the castle, some eating, some dancing, some drinking, and some making fools of themselves in the gardens under the moonlight.

What I did notice, however, was that Caspian was walking towards me to sit beside me—when suddenly his eyes grew wide—and he held up a finger as if to say, A moment if you please, and immediately made a hasty U-turn and departed the room.

My mouth dropped open for a moment, and then realized—the woman seated beside me must be the one he was avoiding. The Duke's daughter.

She had a transparent scarf that did not fare so well in hiding the bruising along her neck. Floozy, I thought, chuckling. Her hair was all done up in perfect ringlets, and her pale skin glowed in the poor lighting from the candle chandeliers above. Her gown was a rich purple with lace pouring out of every seam.

When she laughed at the joke of a gentleman beside her, she squinted up her eyes in this frightful appearance that seemed to say, 'I am so naïve and precious that you will find me uncommonly endearing, like having a pet Disney princess to laugh at all your incompetent attempts at comedy'.

Suddenly, I could see what Caspian meant. It wasn't the fact that she simply squinted. It was the vacant expression that someone might adapt when they do not understand a subject, and simply use the ignorance as an opportunity to flirt and make someone sexy explain it to you.

Like when that queen bee giggles, and says oh-so-sweetly, "I don't really get how you… you know…" and then the fellow is right behind her, guiding her stance on the golf course or wrapping his arms around her to place her fingers on the correct guitar strings.

I am fairly certain you know what I mean now.

And suddenly, she was squinting at me, sitting on her right, hoping that my presence was going to go unnoticed.

"Oh, hello?" she said in a voice of silk, her eyes squinting up at the sight of me, as if to say, Just trying to place you—oh yes, you're that ONE girl, aren't you? The one we make fun of on the playground?

"Evening," I said, trying to keep my voice silky. It clotted.

"Are you…" she fought for my name or title, smiling apologetically.

"Pippin," I said shortly. "And you?"

"Ahaha," she laughed gently in a spray of crystal and sparkling diamond chortles. "Aren't you cute! I'm Gwendolyn. Heir to Galma."

"How kind. It is a pleasure to meet you." You're the heir, I'm the ocean. Beat that, lady! Ahaha. Get it? Air to Galma? Air… it… rhymes with heir. It's… it's funny in my head. Really.

"You are the same Pippin that travels with the Narnian company?" You stole my king!

"The one and the same, Madam." He was never yours to be stolen.

"How lucky you are! The King himself of Narnia made his intentions known during the tournament, did he not?" Pics or it didn't happen.

I feigned a blush. "I knew of the King's intentions before, but I am pleased to support him during such rigorous games." We've had private conversations. How gleefully insulting.

The Duke's daughter lowered her voice. "Are you the King's mistress, then?"

My face froze, and I was unable to smile calmly as I had planned. "I am no such thing," I said haughtily, losing my cool for a moment. I fought my temper to regain it. "Such is the belief of petty gossipers," I said lightly, remembering to smile as I said it. "Only fools would take seriously such a rumor that disgraces the King's honor." You're a fool. "Oh dear," I held up a hand to my mouth in shock, "Madam, please don't mistake my meaning. I know that you would never give weight to such inferences. I do not blame you for the misconception of lesser people."

"Forgive me," le princessa Gwendolyndinburgercheese said softly, "It was so rude of me to ask. You must know that I should never pose such a question if I were not worried about such rumors. I will have you know that it has passed the level of the common people and now circulates among the higher courts—where it has reached my ears. Fortunately we can see now, he has chosen a young woman of honor." The last word was so bitingly, evilly sarcastic, that again it took me off guard. She spat the word honor as if it were dishonorable to say it in such context.

Then she smiled a sickly-sweet smile at me. And when I say sickly sweet, I do not speak of melted chocolate or old Jolly Ranchers in a glove box—I mean Pepto-Bismol sweet.

"You know, I once fancied to want to be his Queen myself," Gwendolyn said wistfully. "I knew that there was no one better suited to his needs for the kingdom, for alliances, for the general comfort and protection for both Narnia and Galma than myself—I am, or, were the natural choice."

"It sounds like you still want to be his Queen," I said in a childish tone, suddenly regressing to an eight year old on a playground. You still like him, don't you? Na na na na na!

She was insulted, but bore it well and with another petulant smile. "It is still not out of the realm of possibility."

"What makes you say that?"

"Poor dear," Gwendolyn whispered sympathetically, "You are so young. You do not know how the world works. You are his favorite now, that is for certain…"

"But I'm not—"

"When he grows tired of you, he will simply forget all about you. He will look for someone to be his Queen. And he will look to Galma, his allies. There is still a small chance for me yet." She winked at me, and took a sip from her glass.

"I know for a fact, Madam," I seethed, beautifully calm and silky without the clotting. "That I will never be the King's wife and Queen, but I will slumber peacefully with a smile on my face, knowing that you will not be either." Hi, Pippin, I'm the little voice that tells you when to shut up. You've been ignoring me for a good five minutes now, and I've had it. Shut up.

Dear little voice—my name is Pippin, and I am overriding you. Shut up.

"I have no reputation to uphold now, according to you," I said with some level of decency. "And I will gladly waste what I have left for the satisfaction of knowing that you might invent the rules and hope I will take the bait and play, but I won't. I will sail away from here and be part of a great adventure far beyond anything your small games can comprehend. I can help save the world. What will you do? Waste hours on pathetic intrigues and hunting the social hierarchy for prey? History isn't going to remember this—find something meaningful to do!"

Breathless, I stopped, took a gulp of water, and fought the tightness in my throat.

She only smiled, though her eyes lacked a bit of the bright luster they did before. "I will be married and rule this island one day," she said, a little dreamily. "Whether or not I am married to your precious King is still yet to be determined. I will then bear children, who will not only rule the island in my stead, but lands beyond it. They will do incredible things. I will be a beloved Duchess. But you? You? You'll have nothing, and no one."

I tuned into the laughter of happy knights and lords and ladies all around. The twinkle of crystal goblets and the flicker of torchlight. The smell of pies and hams.

"You're a little child fancying herself to be a sailor," said the Duke's daughter, slyly. "You sail treacherous waters. There is no doubt in my mind that nothing waits for you on the horizon."

She pushed her chair back, and drained her glass. "History books await my lineage and the great things I will achieve as Duchess, or perhaps Queen," she said, grandly but quietly, so as not to attract attention from anyone. "If your grave isn't at the bottom of the sea, it is surely unmarked, and most likely forgotten. Think on this. I hope you enjoy the rest of the feast." Flaunting the richness of her dress and the many layers of cloth it was made of, she slipped from the table and disappeared into the crowd.

"I asked for it," I said out loud, fighting the urge to sob, laugh, sing a show tune, or fall asleep. I opted for the show tune.

"Oh what a circus, oh what a show…" I sang to myself, trying to dig into the plate of food before me, but losing all appetite quickly. I skipped ahead in the song. "Instead of government we had a stage, instead of ideas, a prima donnas' rage, instead of help we were given a crowd, she didn't say much, but she said it loud…"

"I came back not a moment too late," Caspian's cheerful voice hopped over my right shoulder, as he fell into the chair beside me. "I realized that I was still needed in the other room and—well—I happened to notice the occupant on your left—what do you make of her? Do you think me shallow in my choice?"

"Not at all," I said in a funny voice. "You were right. I would question your ability to be a King if you fancied her at all. You were very right to say no. I am now convinced that our ruse was a terrible idea, considering that it does leave tongues wagging, but you're right to not like her very much."

"Was she so terrible?"

I fought for the right words to describe her, and there was none. Well, there may have been some, but they were entirely inappropriate and would have made me deserve no less than what she had already said to me. "She basically told me that I was worthless and I should die at sea," I said, completely cheerfully and happily.

Caspian choked on his drink. "Excuse me?"

"Oh yes," I said brightly, smiling unnaturally. "I'll die alone and there's nothing in my future. She was very convincing and poetic about it all." At Caspian's horrified look, I added, "It was self-defense, you know. She had every right to say so. It was only after I told her that I was glad she'd never marry you that she said anything cruel. I deserved it."

Caspian was still open-mouthed. "You… you said that?"

"I think we're both at fault, here."

"You said that?"

"Regrettably, yes," I stopped smiling, and ceased picking at my plate of feast-ness. "Your Highness, would you mind if I retired early? I know I'm meant to escort you, and all, but… I feel a little drained."

Caspian laughed. "Oh, Pippin. You are a hazardous little sprite. Thank the Lion we do not live in a world where the islanders would simply behead a visitor for cheek."

"I'm a lucky one, I guess."

"I am retiring early as well. Let's just go back to our tents and get some sleep, eh? Tomorrow is sightseeing and some political business, and preparing the ship for the next leg of voyage. There'll be plenty to do—outdoors, mostly. There won't be any of this… this…" he gestured to the busy room. Our attention both went to the most handsome Calormene knight, who had drunk far too much, and was causing a row near the front of the room while laughing and swinging his fists clumsily.

"Agreed, your Majesty," I said, stifling a yawn.

He rose, and pulled out my chair, offering me his arm. "You're not worthless," he said quietly, and it was all I needed to hear.

We spoke not a word as we walked back to the tents, and we bid goodnight in such a way that would seem this pair of friends had not dealt with malignant people and sneaky political romances all day long.

"Goodnight, Pippin!"

"Goodnight, your Majesty! Sweet dreams!"

"And you!"


Oh my, I can hardly believe how long it has taken me to finish this chapter. I am very sorry for the delay. With the dialogue, there was a lot of thought processing and meaty descriptions to try and construct, but I am satisfied. It is accurate to what occurred. I'm sure you will all be pleased to hear that the Duke's daughter did—eventually—marry quite happily, and had plenty of children. I've yet to discover what is on my horizon, but I expect it is full of wonderful things…

Read and review, pretty please?

(your replies at the bottom of the page!)


NEXT CHAPTER:

Finally leaving the molasses shores of Galma, free again in the Narnian ocean—but what is this? A plague in Terebinthia? And why does this Terebinthia ship look suspiciously like a pirate ship?

All of the above may sound like a severe digression, but it is all Lewis's previous research. There are, indeed, pirates.


Softballgirl: Happy Thanksgiving to you too, my dear! I hope it was a very blessed one!

andreaNguyen: Edmund is coming soon! :D I am SO excited! SOON SOON SOON! I finally found my Edmund on my college campus; he definitely helps my muse!

Madfantic: No worries =) I'm working on two Doctor Who fics, both star the Tenth regeneration, who is by far my favorite!

Suuki-Aldrea: Having lots of fun with the Doctor Who fic, and I LOVE me some Captain Jack as well!

Penspot: Oh hey, I'm sorry, my website has been deactivated. I now operate entirely on my Pippin Strange facebook page (the only 'Pippin Strange' writer page on facebook, easy to find just by typing the name into the search bar). Thanks for your review :)

Skywalker05: Your reviews are ALWAYS the best! Thank-you so much for your thoughts! But I'm not sure who the atheist character is—the Duke's daughter, for example, is modeled after one of those court members who really has nothing better to do that be frivolous with male admirers and flirt her way through life. I don't think she has much of a concept of a higher power, but much like the Christians during the renaissance age—do not question whether or not there IS one, because then, it was "fact" to them. Therefore taken for granted, possibly ignored.

For the first question—there has definitely been some soul searching. Sometimes I'm embarrassed to go back and read my older things because I really was that socially awkward and would get carried away. It's a forced self-reflection and oftentimes, writing myself a certain way constantly makes me want to change. I'm always on the task of self-improvement.

Another question: Aemon is not canon, I've made him up, but I'm sure it's safe to say that Lewis invented the crew of the ship, I am just trying to flesh out those characters and give them names and personalities :)

And last: The Tenth Doctor :) He's my favorite! And I haven't gotten as far as Matt Smith yet, though I'm a few episodes away…

Thank-you, as ever, for your thought-provoking reviews. I enjoy them immensely.

Insane Anarchist-akaAllie: HIII! (waves back) I am so happy to meet you! I love it when lurkers… un-lurk? :D You are SO sweet, thank-you for your kind thoughts… it really helps me want to keep writing… thanks for the encouragement! I am astonished and grateful.

As for your questions, I will be joining the Tenth Doctor. And I am writing a second fic that stars my best friend Jessica, who will ALSO join the Tenth Doctor—but whereas mine is a self-insert, hers is an OC (like a companion for a Christmas special only!). I think you will really enjoy her literary qualities as a companion, her personality is super sarcastic and highly intelligent :) Please come again, Allie, I'd love to hear what you think about this chapter! :)

FairyPirate: Oh my—I know right? College just sucks away SO much creative time! It's been most difficult, I hardly wrote anything at all my sophomore and junior year… but it's definitely good to get back into the swing of things. And both of the longer-chaptered Merlin fics, the Mirror Crack'd and An Oregonian Student—those shall be updated, I am hoping before Christmas!

Alexandraya: Definitely the Tenth Doctor :) And I wish you could come too! I wish all my reviewers could join me aboard the Tardis! Unfortunately, not knowing any of you in person limits my writing… I would not be able to give your characters fully rounded personalities any justice. You'd find me a very poor writer indeed ;)

Narniafan96: Grr yeah! No green mist for us! And yes the Pevensies and the Scrubb will be aboard soon, possibly as soon as the conclusion of chapter ten. And I shall keep the islands in book order—I am referring to the text CONSTANTLY as a timeline and guide. I want to be faithful to Lewis's story. Even though the movie was a brilliant visual and emotional representation of the story, the plot, I think, took too many liberties. But I still loved it, and I'll just use the book for my backdrop.

ZombieKillerLevi: There will be a bit of a fight, but with words and a good ol' tongue lashing! Thank-you for your compliment, I am so pleased you liked the chapter. And I think that's a pretty good idea… I didn't think about a rift in time but I think that is very clever and works with the Doctor stories well. And definitely the Tenth Doctor. David Tennant is my hero, and I love writing his dialogue.

Sarlovessoccer: I am going to compromise and definitely heed your advice—I am going to finish the Doctor Who fic before I begin posting it so that it doesn't interfere with my regular Strange Things writing :) thanks for your thoughts!

Colbub: My writing has been literally running away from me and trying to mess with some kind of chemistry between Caspian and I—this is definitely not a Mary Sue! I refuse to participate in a Narnian romance… I think it's just in my nature, I guess, to express myself in certain ways and inspire a little flirtatiousness, but I am desperately holding the reins back, like, "Whoa there, Nelly, what the devil are ya doin'?" I shalt not possess romantic feelings for Caspian or Edmund, I won't let myself!

Pureangel86: I'm gona sneaky-sneak my way into the undocumented time after the Christmas special when the Tenth Doctor first meets Donna, when he is on his own ;)

Scissorhero: I am chuckling about how much you ship me with fictional characters. You are a delightful fiend! I love you! Lol.

Locked in a Stony Tower: By the way, I am still in love with your penname. Lol. Realistically, I am not fond of selfish bratty people, so to react to Eustace passively might not happen. I may actually hit him with a literal two-by-four. (Haha, not really.) But I think knowing what happens to him in the end MIGHT soothe things a little. Then again, I don't know how Eustace is going to react to ME… o.O