the_lioness | (no subject)

Eventually--sooner or later--Lucy sits down next to her and silently picks up a stone herself, sending it skipping.

Four hops. Not good, but not horrid.

It's certainly better than Alanna has managed. Then again, she hasn't been trying particularly hard. There is something oddly satisfying about a clean, loud splash.

She doesn't look at Lucy. Not really. Not right away.

"It's strange how things work out," she finally says, tone hushed and faintly bemused.

Swallowing, she pushes another stone towards Lucy.

"Mm," she agrees, and skips that one as well.

"It's one of the few constants, I think, really. Alive or dead or on Jupiter, things are strange in the end."

Alanna's hand hovers over the pile of stones.

What does one say in such a situation? How do you feel? What's new? Anything exciting happen recently?

Alive.

"It was an accident," she says softly, and even though she believes it, believes everything Adam said, she still sounds as if she's seeking confirmation.

Lucy doesn't answer for several moments.

"It doesn't matter, really." It was, but even if it hadn't been an accident--it all has to work out only one way.

Alanna turns her head and studies Lucy, smiling, if only a little.

"You still look like you," she says in a matter of fact tone of voice. "Still lovely. Roger didn't."

She pauses briefly, resting her chin on her knees.

"I think it matters. And I can't help wondering."

"Su's the lovely one," she says automatically, and leans over against Alanna a moment later.

"Me too," she admits softly. Not really, but--a little.

"But it--I have to ask him to take it back, anyway."

It's hard to say. It's true, but it's hard to say.

Alanna wants to ask what Lucy wonders, to see if some of it's the same thing she wonders -- whether or not their lives (And suddenly it's okay to think lives, not to censor phrases that come automatically like 'scared to death' or 'live life to the fullest') would be incredibly different had this happened a year ago, and whether either Lucy or Adam had considered such aloud.

Swallowing, she leans against Lucy in turn, and hesitantly takes Lucy's hand in her own, just a friendly gesture, and can't help but feel her pulse.

She doesn't ask. Some questions aren't fit to be spoken aloud. Because even as she wonders, and she worries, Alanna believes firmly that everything happens for a reason. The gods do not act arbitrarily, and it doesn't do to meddle in their affairs. Which is perhaps why she doesn't look particularly surprised at Lucy's revelation, instead squeezing her hand and looking at her friend with the utmost respect.

"Aslan would be proud," Alanna whispers. "I can't imagine a harder choice to make, Lucy. Either way, those who care about you will respect your decision and be here should you need us."

"I don't want to. I just--I won't lose Caspian, and I want him more, but I still don't want this, and--"

And she weeps, because it's not fair at all.

"I'm scared to die, Alanna."

She never has been before, and she's never thought it out like this, and known it was coming.

It's not fair, and Alanna's eyes burn as she bites her lip and she thinks hard about death, recalling her own fear of it and everything Liam had said.

"Sometimes," she begins, "there are things worth dying for. Like love."

But of course, there are also things for which to live.

"I would be scared too, Lucy." It's hard to admit. "What did Caspian say?"

"Oh, he was noble, of course," and she's half-choking on the laugh.

"He'd be noble if it made us both miserable. And it's worth it, I know--I know," looking at Alanna. "But--he won't stay with me, if I'm alive, because it's not fair. And I don't care. But he does," and she's possibly babbling, but it's all true, "and Alanna--"

Lucy bites it off and stops and throws another stone.

The pile is dwindling now, and Alanna selects a large stone near the bottom, causing the others to cascade down around her fingers.

She nods. She listens. And for all the difficult choices in her life, she thinks she's never faced one quite as hard as this.

"Yes?" she prompts. "Go on, Lucy."

She's not crying now, eyes feeling gummy and tight.

"He never asks me to stay. Because he's so fair. He never asks me to, and I would, and I will, but--it's like he doesn't know he could ask."

"Maybe he thinks it wouldn't be fair to ask, and doesn't wish to pressure you. It's a decision you have to make of your own accord, and if he asks, maybe he thinks he'll always wonder if you had made the right choice for you."

She brushes her thunb over the back of Lucy's hand, eyes unfocused as she stares at the lake.

"Several months ago, I was having horrible nightmares about Roger. Having Adam sleep beside me seemed to be the only cure. But I wouldn't ask him to stay, even though I wanted nothing more. If he stayed, I wanted it to be because that was what he wished, not what he felt he needed to do. And when he did, I didn't have any more questions. It was his decision."

She flushes, feeling a little foolish.

"It's a poor example, but that might be why."

"But what if he doesn't really want me to stay?" she asks, and won't look at Alanna.

"I want to give him--anything, and he won't ask."

"Oh, Lucy."

Ever stubborn, Alanna moves around in front of Lucy and nervously twists her fingers in the fabric of her pants leg.

"He wants you to stay. Trust me, he does. Caspian lights up when he speaks of you, almost as if he is suddenly remembering all of his dreams have come true. He loves you. But we all have our insecurities and pride. We all make mistakes. You want to give him everything, and if you make this choice, you will."

She swallows.

"He wants what's best for you, and maybe right now he thinks that what is best for you is for him to take a step back and let you make up your own mind. That doesn't mean he doesn't wish with all his heart for you to choose him."

"He thinks I'm going to change my mind," softly, looking at her hands. "He said to wait to make my decision, like there's one to make."

She breathes, and fingers a stone. And only that.

"I just wish he knew he could ask and I'd say yes. Because it has to be yes, Alanna," glancing at her with a half smile. "Because as much as I don't want to die..."

Everything's relative.

"Then maybe you should tell him."

Eyes sad, she watches Lucy and nods.

"I know." She pauses, tossing the large stone up in the air. "You could live without him and be happy enough. But there are different sorts of happy, don't you think? Sometimes the sacrifices made to be one sort of happy seem far worse and more heart crushing, and in the end, you wonder if you are truly happy after all."

"I lived two lives without him. I don't want a third," quietly.

"Perhaps. I would like to tell him." It's almost wistful.

"But I'm still frightened."

"You have every right to be."

Alanna smiles to herself, thinking about Liam again.

(The truth is we never saw death the same, so I didn't talk about it with you. All you think of death is ending. To me, it's how a person goes. Dying for important things -- that's better than living safe.)

She still has the letter, tucked safely in a drawer.

"Try not to think of it as the end, Lucy. It might very well be a beginning for both of you."

"It's not the end," Lucy says finally, running her thumb over a rock, "but it's one. It may be a beginning too, but..."

She shrugs, after a moment, and tilts her head back, looking at the sky.

"It's what love is, in a way, isn't it? Giving things without being asked."

After another moment, she adds, softly, "I love Caspian enough to die for him. I didn't love Adam enough to live for him, and that was my fault. It was an accident, and only ever could have been."

They may both wonder, and Lucy likely always will, a little, but still.

It was only an accident.

"Aye, it is," she whispers. "Nothing is your fault."

Her eyes sting and her breath catches in her throat. Squeezing her fingers around the rock, she pulls her arm back and throws as hard as she can, trying to breathe as she watches it soar.

"He'll know. When it happens, he'll realize what it means, and know that you love him enough to die for him. Powerful knowledge, that. I suspect it will change things in wonderful ways."

Alanna thinks it's high time Caspian made an honest woman of Lucy, as much she hates that phrase.

Lucy is less concerned about that at the moment than--about fifty other things.

Let us be honest. That is all well and good, but mortality states should be made right first.

"Who knows." Shrugging, a little.

"At least things will be like they should."

That is to be expected, of course. It is, however, easier for Alanna to think about than all those other things, and the one thing she has been thinking about nonstop since Adam told her. Thom.

Lucy doesn't look any different. She's still Lucy, and maybe it would be different if Alanna had known her before the train crash, but it's rather hard to believe just how much has changed when things feel rather the same.

"Like they should," Alanna repeats dully. "Have you told Adam yet?"

"No. I think--when I do, I have to tell him, and it has to be done. Does it make sense to say that?"

"It does," Alanna confirms. "I won't say anything to him, I promise. If I did-"

He tried to fix it, but given enough time to think about it, could he bring himself to do just that? Alanna isn't sure.

"It's yours to say, not mine."

"And I will."

It's another moment, and she leans, a little, against Alanna again.

"But not just yet."

"Not yet."

Alanna doesn't know what else to say, and so she doesn't, instead hugging Lucy loosely before turning to watch the stars appear.

Eventually, she skips the last stone.