and sometimes when you fall

[called_lioness]

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

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[treading_dawn]

Warm breath, smelling of lilac and heather and the sweet scent of roses, stirs her hair.

Then soft tawny fur brushes against her arm as the Lion takes one more step forward, solemn golden eyes looking down at her.

"Dear heart, fare you well?"

[called_lioness]

"Now I do," she laughs and looks up at him with nothing except joy.

"It's beautiful."

It means everything, and not just in this country.

[treading_dawn]

And oh, her joy pleases him, but his eyes are still so very solemn, and such a little bit sad.

""All things in my father's country are, and always shall be."

[called_lioness]

"There too," wistfully. "Here it all seems precious."

She reaches out and rests her hand against his mane after a moment and just lets it rest there.

And for a while she says nothing at all, just sits with her Lion and looks out at it all.

"Caspian isn't ready yet."

[treading_dawn]

He turns his head slightly, tongue brushing rough and dry against her fingers.

"There will be time."

His tail brushes against his flank, stirring up that rose-sweet smell again.

"For you and he both, there will be time."

[called_lioness]

"If I hadn't promised him," she says after a moment, "I don't think I'd stay.

"But I did. And I love him, and I don't want to leave him again. I've done that enough."

"But it's hard." It's just a statement.

[treading_dawn]

"All roads are hard, Daughter of Eve--but then they all lead here, as well."

His tail flicks gently against her side, almost as an afterthought.

"It is a country that makes few demands."

[called_lioness]

"Aye. I know it," and it's a tad rueful, "well, I think.

"But all roads are worth it, too, I also think. If this is where they lead."

There's a compass in her lap and she slips it into her pocket again after a moment.

She doesn't really need it.

(Sometimes it's nice, though, to have something to hold on to and to tell you what you always knew.)

"Can I sit with you a while anyway?"

[treading_dawn]

Aslan's growl is soft but full of humor--a Lion's equivalent of a soft laugh or so it would seem.

His voice, when he speaks, is full of a gently rumbling purr.

"You will always be welcome, dearest."

They all are.

[called_lioness]

She doesn't want to leave.

And she doesn't have to, is the thing.

It's a choice; it's always a choice.

But she promised, and she'd keep it, and that's a choice, too, and one she'd make gladly, even if it hurts.

And this time when she starts to wake up (to fall asleep, to drift off against golden fur and the smell of summer) there's the sound of pages turning in a book and two hands, both pale as as moonlight, one male and one female, in front of her.

It's always a choice, and Lucy loved both her parents, but her father's voice was the one she loved best in the world.

And everything works out, all the little bits, exactly as you make it, as you want it to, in the end.

So she takes a hand.

And then

and then

and then...

And then she wakes up, Caspian's body against hers