And oh, but at the sight of the ring Susan beams, and raises her own hand to brush the golden fall of hair back over her shoulder -- and light glints from her own ring.
(Was it there before, these last days? Who can say?)
Her smile is warm and sweet -- and knowing, oh aye.
"The two things together are very well indeed, say true." A beat, and her smile gentles. "I'm well, Lu."
It's a moment before she hugs the other girl, on a whim, for oh, Lucy is well indeed, and doubly-well in this place, and there's no way to show her joy, not really, but a hug will do.
"It's good to see thee as well, and this place," she says, honestly (and it still feels a betrayal, in a way, to Caspian to say it, but it remains true) and offers Susan her hand.
"Do'ee really need ask?" she asks lightly, and steps forward, only barely surprised at the feel of grass under her feet instead of sand.
(But she can still and ever hear the waves.)
Lucy tilts her head back, a little, and feels the sun--and it's warmer here, and she marvels at it, at the differences she finds herself noticing more and more, while she dreams and while she's awake both--on her face and her smile is wide.
"Aye," she says, and for a moment she's solemn. "It matters, ye see."
And then the moment's gone, and they're walking up a long, wildflower-dotted slope that leads away from the ocean, which glitters brightly behind them in the sunlight.
Lucy grins and obediently starts to run--and it's easy, really, to go faster than she should have thought possible, with no effort at all.
(and yet, I don't want it to stop)
Grass whips past their feet, but the mountains still seem as far off as ever, and yet--and yet, the voice in her whispers, they're a little closer for all that, and part of Lucy thinks she'll burst for joy with Susan's hand in hers and the air thick with the scent of the sea and green grass and lilies and roses.
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But she's smiling when she turns her head to look at Susan.
"Aye. Well and wed," raising her hand to show Susan the ring, "both. Mayhap the one is due to the other. And you, Susan?"
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(Was it there before, these last days? Who can say?)
Her smile is warm and sweet -- and knowing, oh aye.
"The two things together are very well indeed, say true." A beat, and her smile gentles. "I'm well, Lu."
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It's a moment before she hugs the other girl, on a whim, for oh, Lucy is well indeed, and doubly-well in this place, and there's no way to show her joy, not really, but a hug will do.
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"It's good to see thee."
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"Will'ee come, then?"
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(But she can still and ever hear the waves.)
Lucy tilts her head back, a little, and feels the sun--and it's warmer here, and she marvels at it, at the differences she finds herself noticing more and more, while she dreams and while she's awake both--on her face and her smile is wide.
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And then the moment's gone, and they're walking up a long, wildflower-dotted slope that leads away from the ocean, which glitters brightly behind them in the sunlight.
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It's always easier to stay in one place.
It's not always possible, though, whether you like it or not.
"I wish thee might've been at the wedding," she says after a few moments, and it's wistful in a different way.
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"But I were there all the same, do'ee ken?"
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It's a year, tonight, since Susan's own wedding.
(paper for the first)
"Perhaps even two," and there's a grin.
Some nights, it is hard to be anything but solemn.
Tonight, it's hard for her to go long without grinning, and she knows it won't last, but oh, how she loves it while it does.
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"At least, I wot," Susan says, giggling, and tugs at her hand. "Oh Lucy, it's so bright, I can't stand to be calm and still-- let's run!"
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Lucy grins and obediently starts to run--and it's easy, really, to go faster than she should have thought possible, with no effort at all.
(and yet, I don't want it to stop)
Grass whips past their feet, but the mountains still seem as far off as ever, and yet--and yet, the voice in her whispers, they're a little closer for all that, and part of Lucy thinks she'll burst for joy with Susan's hand in hers and the air thick with the scent of the sea and green grass and lilies and roses.
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Susan's the first to slow, although she doesn't seem winded.
"I always loved to run like that, ye see," she tells Lucy. "My da' said it were that the moon got into my blood."
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