called_lioness | (no subject)

(no subject)

She's bored.

She's groomed Corella, and she's practiced her archery, and she's had hot chocolate, and now she's sitting in a tree and dangling her legs and considering dropping things--tiny things, mind you, like twigs, non-inclined-to-injure things--on people should they pass by.

So. Bored.

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Mary follows, straining to touch her toes down to the next-lowest branch before letting go.

She's rather curious as to what 'doing it properly' entails.

Lucy waits til they're both on the ground and smoothes her own hair and skirt, and then Mary's.

"Now. Do you--do you know Aslan, Mary?"

"Aslan is the lion," Mary answers, immediately; and a small smile forms on her face, quite of its own accord.

Which seems to be answer enough.

"Aye, the Great Lion, and the King. The King above all others in Narnia. It's His land, more than any other's, and it's in His name that I do this."

Lucy's eyes have looked very young of late, if you study them, but as she says this, at least, they look somewhat closer to how they should.

"Mary Lennox, you have been friend to me since having met me, and you've cared for a tree. I've seen how you care for growing things, and I think there is no other more suited to be a Gardener that I have ever met, and if thou had but been born in Narnia, I believe they'd think there's nymph blood in thee." She talks, and it grows a little more lilting and a little different. "And for that, I say that to all thou would have know, thou shall be Lady Mary the Contrary, Royal Gardener, for it suits thee." Lucy leans over, then, and kisses Mary's forehead, very softly. "And I think I need not tell thee to bear it well."

Mary's face is very solemn, as she listens to this speech - very solemn, and very still.

But solemnity is not incompatible with happiness; far from it, and her happiness is clear, shining out from her eyes and her small serious face.

"I shall," she says, a little breathless. "Oh - oh, I always shall."

Except possibly when she's bragging to Colin. But otherwise: yes.

It's funny.

She will never think of Mary as a daughter. A small cousin, perhaps, or younger sister, at most, and mostly dear friend. But for a moment, she thinks this must be what a mother feels like on the day she sees her child go off to school, or when you hand down an heirloom. And maybe it was offered because Mary was cross, but later, when the candy's worn off, Lucy will think it one of the best decisions she's ever made.

And mostly what Lucy feels for the little girl in front of her is a great deal of pride and love and joy. "I know. I'd not have given the title to thee if I'd though otherwise."

And, well, of course exceptions must be made.

And then she's laughing, and there's nothing serious about it, as she lifts Mary and twirls her. "Lady, I think thou's a lioness in thee, and someday perhaps the Lion will confirm this. But come," she finishes as she sets Mary down, and the lilt fades away. "Do you want to have tea or a milkshake with me, my lady, to celebrate?"

"I'd like that," Mary says, and somehow she's managing to beam, even without smiling.

And then, clearly concentrating very hard to make sure she gets it right - it is not Yorkshire, not quite, but it is close: "I mean that I should like to be a lioness, I think - if that is like what the lion is, and like what thou are.

"And I should like to have a milkshake with thee too."

Her smile is small but proud and it's obvious as Lucy takes her hand and says, "Aye. I am not near like the Lion, but I've been called Lioness, and mayhap thou will be too before all is said and done. And come, then."

By the time they get back to the bar, Lucy is laughing and all age is gone from her eyes, but her smile will remain proud throughout the rest of the time she spends with Lady Mary.

And when the girl has left, Lucy quietly speaks with Bar, and a ring is purchased in Mary's size and left to wait for her there, til she next stops by.

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