The Water Horse: Chapter Two
CHAPTER TWO
fantasy
And There Were Three: Chapter Six
Ficum trudged up the riverbank to the Water Fairy’s house, his young face glowing with health and exercise. He was returning from his long hike in the woods, and his eyes sparkled with excitement and happiness. When he was halfway up the bank, he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to have cleaned his bedroom, and that his mother would probably have discovered the mess by now. Stooping down, he hastily picked some violets with which the grass was thick. He decided to offer them to his mother as a “peace offering”. Perhaps then she won’t be so angry with me, he thought.
Somewhere
There is a secret garden, where fairies and Pegasus dwell, Withen the depths of a forest
somewhere in a faraway land
Where youth is never fading, and troubles are never invading
Where the sky is forever blue, and tears will never fall
Where is this mystical place you ask?
Somewhere in a strange and far off land perhaps?
Do not bother looking in the wood
It is neither in the sea nor the sky
It is nestled away safe and secure
It is somewhere in your mind
somewhere in a faraway land
Where youth is never fading, and troubles are never invading
Where the sky is forever blue, and tears will never fall
Where is this mystical place you ask?
Somewhere in a strange and far off land perhaps?
Do not bother looking in the wood
It is neither in the sea nor the sky
It is nestled away safe and secure
It is somewhere in your mind
Dawn Treader Fan Script Scene by me
Note: I changed it from the book a lot, and they realized that the water turned matter into gold too soon. If you see any other mistakes, form typos to plot points, don't be afraid to criticize!
The scene is a tranquil one. The stream flows over the rocks, trickling into an abysmal pool. The lush grass is a glowing green, and the trees are drooping under the wight of exotic fruit that fills the air with a strange perfume. Caspian, Eustace, Edmund, Lucy, and Reepicheep walk among the springy, berry-laden bushes. Lucy starts, stops, takes a deep breath, and frowns.
Dawn Treader Fan Script Scene by me
Note: I changed it from the book a lot, and they realized that the water turned matter into gold too soon. If you see any other mistakes, form typos to plot points, don't be afraid to criticize!
The scene is a tranquil one. The stream flows over the rocks, trickling into an abysmal pool. The lush grass is a glowing green, and the trees are drooping under the wight of exotic fruit that fills the air with a strange perfume. Caspian, Eustace, Edmund, Lucy, and Reepicheep walk among the springy, berry-laden bushes. Lucy starts, stops, takes a deep breath, and frowns.
Half-Blood Part III--Brother Against Brother
When Varian awoke, he was lying on his stomach in a ten by ten foot cell. The imprint of the cold stone floor pressed into the side of his face. Varian raised his head and winced as dwarven drums began pounding behind his eyes.
And There Were Three: Chapter Two
The fairy city of Myriada (named because of the myriad of fairies that lived and passed through there) was situated on a magnificent mountain; actually, the whole mountain was but part of the city. The Fairy Queen’s palace was on the mountain, and from there the city wound down and landed at the mountain’s foot, where it spread out for three miles round.
Naien ~ part of chapter one
The evening was grey and misty. Melenyáriel the naien trotted swiftly through the trees, her thick, tortoiseshell fur fluffed against the cold. This was the coldest winter she had yet seen. Light snow was falling, collecting in a thin layer on the mossy ground and melting in minute drops on her fur. She stopped for a moment, tilting back her head to peer at the sky where it showed between the trees, and spotted a bird, its wings dark against the fading light. It might have been one of the Elenalië, but there was no way of telling.
And There Were Three: Chapter One
Chapter One
Bane of Dwarves
The wind over the mountain whistling
The dwarves sit in their halls of stone
Their hearts are colder than the mountain peaks
Colder, colder, to the bone.
“Our fingers long for work of ours!”
Their voices cry with the wind.
“Give us back what belongs to us!”
Their grief beyond any other’s ken.
No care for trees, nor care for sky
No care for other moving things
Just let them have the work of their hands
The crowns and jewelry fit for kings.
Their love is silver, bright, bright stones