(Untitled)

[treading_dawn]

In one of the more shadowed corners of the bar something stirs, tawny-gold fur catching the light.

It is a Lion, head coming up off his forepaws, solemn golden eyes watching the patrons as they pass by.

Aslan has been here for quite some time.

Comments

[called_lioness]

Lucy has not, but she's here now, and sitting next to him, content to merely be at his side.

It is comfortable.

[treading_dawn]

The great head turns, and a deep rumbling voice speaks.

"And so we meet again, Lucy, Queen of Narnia."

[called_lioness]

"Yes. I've missed you," she answers truthfully, knees pulled to her chest.

[treading_dawn]

"I am here, now, child."

There is a quiet joy in the golden eyes.

"And doubtless will be again."

[holy_oats]

Oats, wrapped up in tea and his own thoughts, nearly misses the Lion.

However, then he ... doesn't.

"Er--"

Niiiiiiice Jesuskitty.

Gooooooood Jesuskitty.

[treading_dawn]

The great head turns toward him, golden eyes fixing him in place.

"Fear not, child. I mean you no harm."

[holy_oats]

Like Oats was really even thinking about moving.

"... Oberon?"

Admittedly, the voice is different.

Kinder.

Or rather ... powerful. But powerful in the sort of way that comes from strength and nobility and beauty, rather than being secure in the knowledge that you could break every bone in a person's body if you really wanted to.

[treading_dawn]

"Hardly a fairy, child."

There is amusement in the golden eyes, now, and a deeper rumble in the voice, almost like purring.

"In my country, most creatures know me as Aslan."

[intherightline]

Aravis just stares. She can't not.

She'll have the little white cat back, please.

[treading_dawn]

The great head turns, and the jaws open, showing a hint of sharp teeth.

"Greetings, daughter."

[intherightline]

She squares her shoulders, not in the least missing the teeth, but breaks her gaze away first of the two. His eyes are terrible. She feels she'll fall into them and, more terrible still, that she would feel better for it.

Temptation. Just as they warn from the burning altars of Tash, of Azaroth. He will steal her soul.

"They say you are a demon." He's looking right at her. No point in being evasive. (Besides, he'd know.)

[treading_dawn]

"They say a great many things. Have you found all of them to be true?"

His voice is still so warm and welcoming, though within it lies the quiet rumble of thunder."

[mmquitecontrary]

It is a lion.

It is a beautiful lion; and Mary is caught between caution and pure shiny-eyed admiration. Because it is a lion.

If it tramples her, they'll have a problem.

[treading_dawn]

Aslan shakes out his mane, golden eyes closing momentarily.

Then they open again, fixed unerringly on Mary.

"Well met, Daughter of Eve."

His voice is warm and deep, only hinting at the rumble of thunder hidden beneath.

[mmquitecontrary]

"- I can understand you," Mary says, and her solemn face is startled into a smile.

Not you can talk; that's not the surprise.

. . and then, because she is still after all Mary, she adds, "My mother's name was Rose."

[treading_dawn]

"So can anyone who is willing to listen. You do well for yourself, here."

But his voice is approving as he speaks.

"And as for your mother, I do not deny her name. But if you append enough 'greats', as your world is wont to do, I believe you will find a different answer."

[twoeyesonthesky]

Quinn's had a friend come to Milliways today, and is glad indeed of that. The friend in question is out in the woods at the moment, staring at the trees as if he expects them to vanish should he blink. It's Quinn's job to get the blankets just now, and he's doing that.

.... when he's not blinking at a motion in the shadows, a bit of sheen unlike anything he's seen in long years of running and fortifying against the fire from the skies.

[treading_dawn]

A voice, low and resonant and warm, speaks from the shadows, and a great tawny head tilts into the light.

"Greetings and well met, Son of Adam. You have done well, indeed, to find this place."

[twoeyesonthesky]

"........................"

He's never heard that voice before, not in all his life; but he knows that voice, the way he knew grass and trees and the fearless open sky- all the things he'd lost.

And he knows that face, and those words-

The blankets he was carrying drop from his suddenly nerveless fingers.

[treading_dawn]

Aslan knows him, as well, and his voice is gentle when he speaks.

"Come closer, child, and be at peace. Here you have been given the gift of time. I do not doubt you will use it well."