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[treading_dawn]

The moon is bright this evening, starlight muffled by its light.

And out of the forest comes a matching light, softening as it emerges from the trees.

The Lion is out and about tonight, walking the boundaries of this place.

Walking, and watching, and waiting for someone very dear to him.

There are a great many to choose from.

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[treading_dawn]

Still those solemn golden eyes are looking at her, bright in the moonlight, warm with feeling.

"And so I might, did I choose. But I do not--not in such things as love. And love, indeed, is what we are speaking of, is it not? The love between you and Caspian, here at the end of worlds?"

[called_lioness]

"I don't want--if she's right--"

It's a frustrated noise she makes as she flops to the ground, chin on her fist and looking more like the little girl who met a Lion many years ago than she tends to most days.

"--I know. I know, you see. That it's his choice. And who am I to make it for him, if he choses to love me, to marry me? And I know he loves me. I know that. And oh, Aslan, I love him so. So very much. But...it's scary to start with," she half-laughs, "and I can't help wondering--if I'm not good enough, is it right to marry him?"

And other things. Like what if she can't keep her promise to stay.

But right now, she's not worried about that.

[treading_dawn]

He moves to stand almost over her, forelegs warm and sturdy against her.

"I can tell you little of right or wrong in this, dearest daughter. There is only love, and its absence, and what lies between them. In the past you have been brave enough to face uncertainty. Will you falter now, on the brink of such happiness as most might only dream of?"

[called_lioness]

"It's just...if it was better for him, oh yes. Oh yes. It's selfish, and I'd do it anyway, because I love him too much, Aslan, not to. But I don't want it to be better for him. And it's only...it's the what ifs. They're hard to not listen to right now. Because somedays I feel like I can't possibly be good enough for him, even without Amy thinking the same. So. What if," looking up with a weak smile.

[treading_dawn]

He looks at her steadily, golden eyes wise and kind and a very little stern.

"You are Lucy the Valiant, Queen of Narnia at Cair Paravel. And you are Lucy Pevensie, daughter of John and Helen, sister of Susan and Peter and Edmund, Daughter of Eve. That has always been more than enough for any purpose, child."

And then he looks up and out, over wood and lake and stars.

"It is much the same for every man and woman born."

[called_lioness]

And her smile isn't perfect, but it's not quite as weak as it was.

"Is it all right to be a little frightened, still?"

[treading_dawn]

He leans down to brush his muzzle against the top of her head, wisps of golden hair stirring with his breath.

"It is impossible to be brave, else. But you do well to keep moving forward, dearest. It has ever been your strength."

[called_lioness]

It's not perfect, and she's still frightened, but it's something, and enough to let her still smile.

"I can't move backwards," wistfully, "even if I want to, and I'm not good at staying still."

And so she walks.

And it's that thought that makes her say, quietly, looking down, the other worry on her mind--or another piece of the first one, because they're connected--which is, "I've been dreaming of late, Aslan."

[treading_dawn]

"And visiting an old friend. I know."

His voice is very gentle, now, rumbling softly in his chest.

"It brings you no joy?"

[called_lioness]

She's silent for a long time.

"When I dream, it does. When I wake, I'm...troubled."

[treading_dawn]

"And what is it that causes you such disquiet, dear heart?"

This, too, is something he already knows. But some things must be spoken to be understood.

[called_lioness]

"Because I don't think that they're just dreams," she murmurs, "and I am so tired, Aslan, since Adam took it back."

[treading_dawn]

"So many gifts are two-edged, and those of the Son of the Morningstar no less than those of any other man."

There is the faintest hint of a growl in his voice. Then it fades.

"Do you regret refusing it?"

[called_lioness]

"No." Quietly. "I wish I could have kept it. I wanted to. So badly. But I'm not sorry that I didn't. It wouldn't have been a life with Caspian. It--wasn't worth it."

[treading_dawn]

"Then the weariness would seem to be something that must be borne, at least for a time. It, too, will pass, as all things seem to."

He is still very quiet, but there is a sternness in his golden eyes.

"All but a few."

[called_lioness]

"And what happens when it passes?" she asks and doesn't expect an answer. Not really.

"What doesn't, beyond love and you?" Lucy murmurs, finally, looking up at him.

There might, really, be no difference between the two, in the end, she thinks, and there might not need to be anything else.

[treading_dawn]

"I am not in the habit of telling endings, child. But they will come, and when you pass beyond them you will know the answer to more questions than you have ever thought to ask."

The glow around him is brighter now, though still muted by the dark and the moon.

Not all things are a competition.

[called_lioness]

"Will I have to leave soon?" she asks, finally. "Or is that another ending I have to go through to find out?"

Because she may not expect an answer, but it's not always a reason not to ask.

[treading_dawn]

"Oh, dear heart, that one is not an ending at all."

The glow is brighter yet, now, but only in his eyes, big and solemn and golden, like two tiny suns.

[called_lioness]

She thinks that she was right when she told Alanna she'd never understand gods' ways.

But she's smiling, and neither worry seems so very bad now. Not answered, or gone, but they can be borne.

"Thank you," she says, and though there's no one next to her any longer, she smiles more widely to feel warm breath against her cheek.

Or maybe it's the wind.