(no subject)

[treading_dawn]

The night is cool and clear, stars twinkling above, reflected cleanly in the lake below.

And in that soft light there is another light, brighter, if more contained.

The Lion is here, pacing out of the forest.

There is something solemn about him tonight.

Solemn, and perhaps a little sad.

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[called_lioness]

Nor does Lucy, and she finds the rumble a comfort, in truth.

"Someday, will you explain the whys to me?"

[treading_dawn]

"I look forward to that day, Lucy."

He nuzzles her cheek gently, fur soft and warm.

"It will not be so long in coming. Not as I reckon things."

[called_lioness]

"All times are soon?" she murmurs with a smile.

[treading_dawn]

He rumbles a quiet laugh.

"I have learned to cultivate some degree of patience. Though it was not so arduous a task."

This might translate to 'yes'.

[called_lioness]

"I wish I had some of it. Waiting is hardest." Wistfully, as she combs through his mane with her fingers.

[treading_dawn]

"You are right. But waiting alone is worse."

Far better to be spared that, if possible.

"And you will not be waiting long."

This, now--this is a promise.

[called_lioness]

Good news or bad, it's something she's grateful for.

"Not alone, no," she agrees quietly. And no one else will be, if she can help it, either. "Thank you."

[treading_dawn]

"Ah, Lucy."

His voice is almost quiet enough for a sigh, and he rests his head against her.

"Thank you."

For tonight, in a way, and for another night so very long ago.

[called_lioness]

She very gently kisses golden fur before closing her eyes and enjoying his warmth and the peace that's coming with it and she's able to accept now.

"You're welcome."

Because if you can't stop things, at least you can be there when they happen.

She'd rather never do it again, and later she'll think that many times, but for now she is content to sit with him and smell sunlight and find that smiling is not so hard as it seemed just a bit ago.