called_lioness | (no subject)

(no subject)

The hike to the castle is easy enough. It would likely have taken less time if Mary hadn’t been curious and wanted to stop and look at some of the older trees.

But that’s what holidays are about, really.

The plan is to ride to Port Caynn tomorrow and swim in the sea before spending the night at an inn of…slightly dubious reputation. (Alanna assures her it’s safe now. Lucy makes a note not to mention any former smugglers to Archibald Craven.)

But tonight is for camping, and as the evening approaching Lucy heads out to stroke her borrowed mare’s neck and make sure the supplies are all ready.

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"It is much better than when it is heard from indoors."

Mary would get out of her bedroll, but she doesn't want to fright the birds - so instead she stays, very still, listening.

"It is," Lucy admits softly, and smiles a bit more as she looks at the girl.

"Did you sleep well, Mary?"

"The ground was a bit hard," says Mary, scrupulously honest, "but once I was asleep I did not notice."

"I'm glad. What would you like for breakfast?" she adds as she shakes her blanket clean.

Practical: "What have we got?"

"We've apples, again, and some nuts and bread and cheese. If we want meet I'll have to shoot a bird, I think."

"Oh, don't," Mary says, quickly. "Don't - they have only been singing! I do not need meat for breakfast. Apples and bread and cheese will do me awfully well."

"Not those birds, anyway," she smiles. "But I shan't shoot one if you'd prefer. We've enough to eat till we head back. Would you get them out while I roll the blankets up?"

Mary nods, and goes over to the pack, tugging out their food provisions with the same sort of intent earnestness with which she'd helped to set up camp last night.

Lucy waits till the rolls are made up before going over to Mary and settling next to her. "So how does camping appeal to you, my dear?"

"I like it - quite a lot," Mary answers, turning her bright face up to Lucy.

"It is nice to be so outside. There is Magic everywhere."

"Aye."

That's quiet, as Lucy reaches out to stroke Mary's hair.

"I wish I could show thee Narnia, Lady Mary. But this is something like it, in its own way."

"Is it?"

Mary looks around the forest - at all the trees, and the birds, and the faint view of clouds above the leaves.

"Is it all forest here, Lucy? Only green things everywhere?"

"The sea isn't so very far away," she informs Mary as she looks up herself. "We can visit if you like. But there's a rather large amount of green things. Enough to please you, I should hope."

She does hope.

(She wants this trip to be perfect.)

"Of course I am pleased."

Mary looks up at Lucy - almost startled.

"I have never been a place like this. Not with so much forest and trees anywhere; it is not like the jungle. It is a real forest. It is real and it is beautiful."

"It is," Lucy says, looking at Mary, and then at the trees again.

"I thought you would be. Hoped, at least. I wanted this to be fun as could be for you. And yes. It is real, and beautiful, and so old and alive."

"I am in a forest with you," Mary says, reasonably. "I do not see how it could not be lovely."

"I'm glad," she says quietly.

"--We'll see if we can find a tree suitable for climbing if you like.'

It's just barely brisk as she reaches for an apple and begins to munch.

"I know all about tree-climbing now," Mary says, already scanning the forest for a suitable tree.

"Duo taught me ages ago. Out back. I still do practice sometimes."

"Is there anything you don't know yet?" she teases.

Mary looks very earnest, and says, "Oh - lots of things. I am going to go on learning things for ever and ever - there is so much to know!"

"I wish I could see you if you're ever done learning, then. For I'm certain you'll be very wise indeed."

"I do not see why you should not be able to," Mary says, cheerfully. "It is not as if you are going to grow old - I may tell you all I learn. You may learn it too, if you like, and then you may be as wise as me."

It's almost a sort of joke.

It almost is.

Almost.

Lucy is very quiet as she studies the trees.

"I do not think, Mary, I will be here that long."

Mary stops and turns to look back at Lucy.

"Well," she says, after a moment. "Nor will I. We do not either of us live here."

It's possible she's - not deliberately misunderstanding, of course. But that's what would make sense, wouldn't it? Because where else could Lucy mean?