Her fingers drift through the sunlight again as Lucy lets go of Susan's hands and drops carefully to pick the object up, cradled in her palms like something precious.
(man? course he's not a man!)
"So you found your way here, too," she breathes to it, but maybe even a compass has a journey it had to make and even if it didn't walk it on its own--well, being carried you travel the same distance.
(and he's not tame, but he's still good)
All compasses point north, but this one doesn't seem to know that, as she opens it carefully to watch the needle.
North east north east north east north east north--north--north--east it goes.
She doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Even the damned compass doesn't seem to know which way's home for her.
"No further," she says, without rising or looking up from the arrow that keeps moving between two letters
(Narnia and the North)
"tonight, Su," and the thing is that for all it had been sunlit a bit ago, it's the moon that's shining brightest on the two sets of golden hair now
(to the glistening eastern sea I give you)
as she kneels in the sweet grass. "We'll go further in when I see you next," and it's painful to say, in a way, because she's still on the shoreline, even with the sea behind them, and in this place you can still hurt. That's what she brings with her.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-09-18 02:45 am (UTC)Her fingers drift through the sunlight again as Lucy lets go of Susan's hands and drops carefully to pick the object up, cradled in her palms like something precious.
(man? course he's not a man!)
"So you found your way here, too," she breathes to it, but maybe even a compass has a journey it had to make and even if it didn't walk it on its own--well, being carried you travel the same distance.
(and he's not tame, but he's still good)
All compasses point north, but this one doesn't seem to know that, as she opens it carefully to watch the needle.
North east north east north east north east north--north--north--east it goes.
She doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Even the damned compass doesn't seem to know which way's home for her.
"No further," she says, without rising or looking up from the arrow that keeps moving between two letters
(Narnia and the North)
"tonight, Su," and the thing is that for all it had been sunlit a bit ago, it's the moon that's shining brightest on the two sets of golden hair now
(to the glistening eastern sea I give you)
as she kneels in the sweet grass. "We'll go further in when I see you next," and it's painful to say, in a way, because she's still on the shoreline, even with the sea behind them, and in this place you can still hurt. That's what she brings with her.
"But not tonight."