235 - Show us where you live
When she looks out the window of her bedroom, she sees the water that goes on and on (to the end of the world) and the glistening here and there of merfolk tales, scales brilliant in the sunlight. Her quarters are to the east of the cair, and Lucy is grateful for that, grateful that she wakes to this site each day and the warm sun shining on her face. When she has dressed and dismissed the dryad who helps her today-her name is Enora, and she’s a willow’s spirit, hair long and brushing the ground with each step-she walks down white halls and marvels at the beauty of Narnia.
She can’t imagine ever wanting to be anywhere else.
***
She’s lonely, a little, as she comes home from her last year of boarding school. The Pevensie girl has a reputation for being a bit odd, and teenagers have a hard time knowing how to treat someone who’s different. She understands this, in the part of her that’s all those years in Narnia and England added up, the part that’s old enough to marry and have children.
The other part of her, the part that’s still a schoolgirl, has a much harder time getting through the term. Her three or four friends help, of course, and it’s not so terrible as the school her brothers used to go to, but-
It’s not home. That, Lucy realizes, as she steps off the train and embraces her mother, is what it most comes down to. The school isn’t home, and while part of her longs for another place entirely-a place far from autos or trains or electric lights-the rest of her relaxes the moment she’s in her old room that she used to share with Susan. The window seat is a bit smaller than she remembers, and her clothing seems to take up more room than it once did, but the room is still very close to how it was when she was a child.
It’s nice to just be able to come home and rest in it and know that it will be there no matter what.
***
It’s like an onion.
But in reverse, the rings getting larger the deeper you go, not smaller. It’s bigger and brighter and more vivid each moment than it was the last, and every moment makes you catch your breath more than the last.
There aren’t words for what this is, and that’s all right; the longer you’re there, the less you find you need words and the more you find you just know, deep in your heart, the more perfect and right each minute feels, the brighter the sky and the sweeter the fruit that you can pick from any tree.
It’s perfect, and Lucy is so grateful to finally have come home that she can’t help but laugh for joy each day.
Muse: Lucy Pevensie
Fandom: The Chronicles of Narnia
Word Count: 489
She can’t imagine ever wanting to be anywhere else.
***
She’s lonely, a little, as she comes home from her last year of boarding school. The Pevensie girl has a reputation for being a bit odd, and teenagers have a hard time knowing how to treat someone who’s different. She understands this, in the part of her that’s all those years in Narnia and England added up, the part that’s old enough to marry and have children.
The other part of her, the part that’s still a schoolgirl, has a much harder time getting through the term. Her three or four friends help, of course, and it’s not so terrible as the school her brothers used to go to, but-
It’s not home. That, Lucy realizes, as she steps off the train and embraces her mother, is what it most comes down to. The school isn’t home, and while part of her longs for another place entirely-a place far from autos or trains or electric lights-the rest of her relaxes the moment she’s in her old room that she used to share with Susan. The window seat is a bit smaller than she remembers, and her clothing seems to take up more room than it once did, but the room is still very close to how it was when she was a child.
It’s nice to just be able to come home and rest in it and know that it will be there no matter what.
***
It’s like an onion.
But in reverse, the rings getting larger the deeper you go, not smaller. It’s bigger and brighter and more vivid each moment than it was the last, and every moment makes you catch your breath more than the last.
There aren’t words for what this is, and that’s all right; the longer you’re there, the less you find you need words and the more you find you just know, deep in your heart, the more perfect and right each minute feels, the brighter the sky and the sweeter the fruit that you can pick from any tree.
It’s perfect, and Lucy is so grateful to finally have come home that she can’t help but laugh for joy each day.
Muse: Lucy Pevensie
Fandom: The Chronicles of Narnia
Word Count: 489