Feb. 15th, 2007

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She wakes up.

She shouldn't, really, think of it as waking up, but that's most of what it feels like.

This is real. This is her aware and the air clear and crisp and mountains, always mountains, around her.

***


Susan's there sometimes. Often. Not always.

Sometimes you have to walk alone.

Sometimes Lucy likes that. And sometimes she likes someone holding her hand.

More and more often she's one step ahead.

She hasn't really noticed.

***


"I love thee," she tells Susan, on a whim.

Susan smiles.

"And I thee."

They keep walking.

They're quieter the closer they get.

There's less that needs to be said.

***


She wakes up.

This time, Susan's not there.

She could wait.

Instead she runs.

It's not leaving anyone behind; it never is. She knows Susan could catch up, and she knows, here she knows, that she'll see her again in a time that's no time at all. All times are soon.

***


A moment can be eternity, eternity can be the tick of a clock

A very wise man said that once.

It's true.

It's a tick of the clock later when Lucy collapses--not for exhaustion, not here, never here--at the top of the mountain.

There's a gate.

She sits outside it, laughing, and looks down the cliff she thinks she's run straight up.

She doesn't remember having a compass in her hands, but now she does, and the needle's spinning round and round in a circle, like it would on the north pole.

This is right.

And there's foot(paw)steps behind her, and she smiles at the silent sound.

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Lucy Pevensie, The Valiant

June 2008

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