(no subject)
It's been said that endings are heartless, and perhaps that's so.
But they aren't always cause for grief, at least, not for the ones whose end has come.
When Tirian of Narnia steps in from the lake door, there are tears he hasn't bothered to wipe away on his cheeks, but there's a smile on his lips and peace in his eyes.
He doesn't speak to anyone. One last look around, and he crosses to the front door and (rolling green hills and bright blue sky, sweet air like something beloved but only half-remembered from childhood) opens it.
And then, still smiling, the last king of Narnia steps back through the door that will take him home.
But they aren't always cause for grief, at least, not for the ones whose end has come.
When Tirian of Narnia steps in from the lake door, there are tears he hasn't bothered to wipe away on his cheeks, but there's a smile on his lips and peace in his eyes.
He doesn't speak to anyone. One last look around, and he crosses to the front door and (rolling green hills and bright blue sky, sweet air like something beloved but only half-remembered from childhood) opens it.
And then, still smiling, the last king of Narnia steps back through the door that will take him home.