(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.

Comments

[treading_dawn]

"Because you are a Daughter of Eve, and because he is a Son of Adam, and because the both of you are Queen and King in Narnia."

His breath is warm, and sweet against her face.

"Even here, at the end of all things."

It is not an answer, and it is all the answer that matters.

[called_lioness]

"It's not fair."

It's just a statement of fact.

But it's truth, and it hurts, and it makes her weep again.

[treading_dawn]

"Life has never yet been fair, dearest. And this place is far from my country--or my father's."

He licks her face again, resting his great golden head against her.

"But she has had her warning, and you have stood fast against her, and things may yet be well."

[called_lioness]

"--They may, or they may not," and it's angry, and she's not certain some of the anger isn't at him, because why won't he fight back why let them bind him why why when he could do it why and the little girl on the hill wants to scream while her sister hushes her, "and you won't ever tell me."

[treading_dawn]

"Would you have me tell you the end of your story, Daughter of Eve? Would you see your life laid out for you in an easy pattern, that you may know what is to come, and what you will do, and how it will all fall? Would you know your greatest despairs and your greatest joys before they happen?"

His voice is low, and gentle, rumbling dark and heavy in the night.

"What would your life mean to you, then? What would the life of any man mean, after that?"

[called_lioness]

"I wouldn't know, would I? You're the one who gets to make that decision. You make them all, who leaves and who stays and who gets to be grown up and who has to be a child again and who gets to come home and who never can and we never know." She's furious, and she's still clinging to him desperately like there's nothing else that can hold her up beyond gold fur and warm breath.

[treading_dawn]

"Oh, my daughter. So wise, and so brave, and yet still so very young."

All the gentleness in the world is in his voice.

"It has always been you and your choices that guide my hand."

That is the price of being born of a human mother, a human father.

The price, and the reward.

[called_lioness]

"I don't like it right now," and it could sound petulant but it just sounds tired and worried and frightened.

[treading_dawn]

"I know it well, child. But I am here, now, and will be so for some time yet."

He licks at her face again, velveted paws settling around her.

"I have always been with you, in one way or another. That does not change--not even here. You have but to look for me."

[called_lioness]

"Except sometimes it feels like you're not," half-whispered, though it's steadier.

Lion bones and lion blood and lion meat and lion fur and no Lion.

[treading_dawn]

"There can be no faith without doubt, dearest."

It is not an easy truth to bear, and his head is heavy where it leans against her shoulder.

[called_lioness]

"Oh Aslan," pressing her face against his.

"I still don't understand it. It's--"

His paws are so huge, and they tied so easily to a table.

"Will you stay with me for now, at least? Please?"

[treading_dawn]

"There will be a time for understanding, dear heart."

He nuzzles against her, whiskers brushing against her cheek.

"I will always be here when you need me, and I will stay as long as I can."

[called_lioness]

Her eyes close as she leans against him and tries to just breathe and not think.

"It's very hard to watch."

[treading_dawn]

"I know, dearest. I know. But for now you do not have to."

His breath matches hers, sides rising and falling in time.

"And never alone."

[called_lioness]

Her own breathing slows, and evens, and she finally says, "I'm sorry," for all she meant it when she said it.

[treading_dawn]

"You need not be."

Those great golden eyes are still solemn, two tiny suns glowing against the night.

"It has been a diffcult night for you, and the morning may be worse yet. But while this is not my country, you and yours are still of Narnia, and I have always protected those who are willing to follow me."

It is less promise than reminder, in its way.

[called_lioness]

She smiles, a little, at that, and murmurs, "I know," which is something, at least. Maybe not as much as she'd like, but something.

[treading_dawn]

There is a softly rumbling purr from Aslan's direction, deep and comforting.

"This, too, shall pass, Lucy. You need only hold hard to your courage, and your faith, and your heart."

[called_lioness]

"It can't pass quickly enough for me," wryly.

But it will.

[treading_dawn]

"Nor for me, daughter. Not this time."

Far behind the words is the faintest rumbling of a growl.

Aslan, you see, has little love for witches of a particular type.

[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'.