the_lioness | (no subject)

(no subject)

Nothing Alanna has read or been told -- according to her interpretation -- indicates that she needs to abandon her training schedule, and so she doesn't. If anything, she finds it easier to get out of bed in the morning, knowing she won't be able to train at all in a few months.

In addition, although she won't admit to being a slave to her appetite, breakfast has become enjoyable instead of merely an inconvenience to get her through the day.

This morning is like any other morning this week: she wakes, kisses Adam, eats breakfast in the bar and heads outside for Shang and sword practice. Once finished, she sees to Mithros and takes him for a ride and a long walk by the lake to cool down, bow and quiver of arrows slung over her shoulder. Mithros is fond of the taller, sweet grasses near the archery target, and rather then resume practice immediately, Alanna contents herself with watching him for awhile. The target isn't going anywhere.

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After a bit, there's the sound of hooves on grass (soft as the sound is), and then Lucy's sitting next to Alanna.

Corella is giving Mithros vague looks.

That's tasty grass, that thar is.

...She's totally stealing some of it.

Sorry, Mithros.

Mithros flattens his ears and shakes his head, but for all his show, he doesn't seem particularly concerned and walks a small distance away to resume grazing.

Alanna watches all this with a small laugh.

"Hullo," she says at last. "I do believe your mare just cowed my warhorse. I approve."

Corella may be slowly trying to get THAT grass, too.

If Mithros wants it, it must be better, after all.

"Hullo. She's talented like that." It's said very affectionately.

"Were he able to speak, he would likely say something to the effect of, 'I let her have it.'" She rolls her eyes, as obviously males of all species are silly. "Or so I would expect."

"Silly Mithros, to think that matters." She's sad, as she says it. So sad.

"Indeed. When will they learn?" Sad and weary -- she gives a heavy sigh.

And promptly ruins it all with a giggle.

"I am ever so pleased to have the chance to congratulate you in person," she says, turning to hug Lucy. "Caspian is exceedingly lucky."

She grins, a little, and hugs back.

"I rather think he's exceedingly good, to put up with me. But thank you."

And for all Lucy still has that tired look in her eyes, there's a great deal of happiness there.

"Nonsense. I think you are a blessing to him, but I'm quite sure he would have words to say about the dragons." Her lips twitch. "And possibly tea towels."

Plucking a blade of grass, she twirls it between her fingers and takes a moment to truly look at Lucy.

"How have you been since our little adventure?"

"He likes the dragons. They just don't like him." It's said a bit mournfully.

Lucy doesn't answer Alanna, because the answer has to be truth, and just looks up at the sky for a few moments.

"Tired," she finally says.

Alanna can see that easily enough, and worries about it.

Softly, "not sleeping well?"

"Too well," and it's a little--just a little--hollow.

Confused, Alanna furrows her brow. Sometimes when she sleeps too long she wakes feeling sluggish, but it rarely lasts.

"I see," she says hesitantly and moves to get a better look at Lucy's face. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's hard. To put in words, when I'm awake. Give me a moment."

Because the things she wants to tell about it--that it's not scary when she's there--she never seems to get right.

"Take all the time you need," she says. "I'm not going anywhere."

She smiles reassuringly and blows on the piece of grass, trying to get it to whistle.

"I'm dreaming of Aslan's Country," she says, finally, "but I'm not only dreaming."

"Visions?" Alanna asks, having had several herself throughout the years. "Or something else entirely?"

"I think...they're something else. You're not really there in visions. Not the way I mean. Not the way I am when I dream."

"Like you're not sure which is reality in that moment between waking and dreaming," Alanna says softly. It's not quite a question; once, she had dreams like that.

"What do you see?"

"No. Like I'm sure I know which is reality. And it's not what I used to think it was."

It's hard to say.

"Susan Delgado and the sea and mountains. And other things, but mostly those. And I walk."

Thoughtful, Alanna nods and watches Lucy, eyes widening slightly at the mention of Susan.

"It sounds lovely," she murmurs. "Susan from memories or Susan from the clearing?"

"The clearing."

There's no doubt in her voice.

"It's all the same, the clearing, Aslan's Country. Call it what you will."

Another pause, "But enough about that. I think congratulations are deserved in turn." It's an attempt to change the subject.

Alanna bites her lip and takes a deep breath, cheeks reddening slightly.

Why is Lucy dreaming about the clearing?

"I don't think it's enough about that, not if it weighs on your mind so, but I won't push. If you need me, you have only to ask."

A small, shy smile.

"Thank you. I-" She laughs quietly. "I don't know what to do."

"Ask me again sometime, and I'll tell you," she says, after a moment, and then nudges Alanna's shoulder with her own.

"You're very lucky to have me about, then. Do you know how many births I've been to?" No, she doesn't. "Many. And for each birth, I saw the pregnancy. I know some things. And I think what I don't know, you'll figure out."

"I will," she promises.

It helps, truly, but Alanna thinks about childbirth and pales.

"I certainly am lucky to have you about." Quietly, "how many died?"

"When I was there? Not a one. That's why I was there."