[lipstick and lions] I love you, but

[childishgames]

It's been getting better. It's been getting better, and it's had her heart healing over where it had been so long cracked and bruised.

She's been allowed to sit at Susan's mirror, to whisper secrets and stumble through questions and laugh in the secret quiet sanctity of being close to one another's souls. She's been allowed to take Caspian's arm opposite Susan, to properly laugh in the darkness of the park they habitually wander home through. She's stood safe and secure in a sea of the unknown with a King as her anchor. She's watched her sister's face light up with genuine smiles when no one else was looking.

And then, suddenly, it's not getting better anymore.

It's not so bad when Caspian becomes distracted by a girl whose name she never quite catches. It's been weeks, after all, and Lucy's started to get her bearings in this world. She's learned how to hold herself apart and how to graciously assent to dancing. She's learned to mime sipping at a glass while barely touching alcohol. She's enjoying, in her own way, being swept up in the sparkling world which feels--just slightly--like they've been swept back to a far more golden world than this one.

It's just that one night, she can't quite spot Caspian in the crowd. One night, she sees Susan's armour (and it's so familiar, now; she hadn't recognized it when her sister breezed from the house, but she sees it now in the heat of battle with a world of courtiers) starting to shake back into place more completely. One night, she doesn't understand the quality of the silence as she walks on Caspian's arm and Susan walks a half-step apart from them. She tries to tease that his tie's come askew, and the silence somehow deepens.

She doesn't always follow Susan to her room when they're home. She's long since learned how to take off her makeup and let down her hair. She does tonight with a solid sort of shove at the door.

"What's happened?"

Comments

[calledmegentle]

She goes straight to taking off her makeup. It's easier to keep her eyes fixed on the mirror as opposed to meeting her sister's eyes.

"I'm not certain I know what you mean, Lu."

But she does. Of course she does. The distance in her expression and his voice clearly says as much.

[childishgames]

"Something's wrong."

It's enough, for now, to close the door behind her and move to drop onto the edge of her sister's bed. They'll come to looking at one another in the end, certainly--for now, it's enough not to be thrown away.

"I'm not so tall as you," she admits, nudging off her tight heels and lifting hands to start pulling pins from her hair. "But that doesn't mean I'm not grown enough to know when something's happened."

If, perhaps, still childish enough not to have fully set together the pieces.

[calledmegentle]

"I wouldn't go so far as to say something's wrong," Susan says, even though the lightness of her tone is one she always uses whenever something is.

"But, yes, I suppose you could say something's happened."

[childishgames]

The frustrated exhale is warm, the affectionate frustration which can come only with family. She twists fully on the bed to study her sister's spine as she continues to pull at pins.

"What's happened, then?"

[calledmegentle]

"Nothing bad."

And it sounds so insistent. It doesn't ring true with the stiffness in her stance.

"He just has finally found himself a nice girl to-- spend time with."

[childishgames]

It's so hard to think of her sister not as a queen. She's starting to have a better vocabulary, the longer they spend together.

The stiffness of her sister's spine, shoulders, isn't regal. It's injured.

"...oughtn't we be pleased for him, then?"

[calledmegentle]

"What on Earth would make you think I'm not?"

She forces herself to smile at her sister's reflection in the mirror.

"I think it's-- wonderful. And about time, too."

[childishgames]

Another frustrated exhale, this one far more pointed as she pads to her stocking feet. Surely Susan can't object to her moving closer to start helping brush out sister's lovely dark hair.

"I'm not sure it's wonderful."

If, perhaps, about time.

[calledmegentle]

"Why wouldn't it be?"

Said as she surrenders the brush and finishes off removing the makeup.

"It's-- quite nice he's found someone, I think."

Maybe if she repeats it enough, she'll believe it.

[childishgames]

"You've said." More or less. At least twice. "Still-- surprising."

Because he hadn't, in her estimation, stopped looking at the young woman before her as if the sun rose and set by her leave.

[calledmegentle]

"...A little bit, yes."

And it hurt, a little bit. But she doesn't say as much.

[childishgames]

That had always been the problem, apparently--people not saying what they ought to.

"A little disappointing as well." Her eyes stay on her sister's hair in her fingers and the steady motion of the brush rather than the mirror. "I'd intended to marry him, but this seems rather an impediment."

[calledmegentle]

She can make herself laugh at the humor her sister's trying to bring about. Does manage it, after a moment too long.

"Well, I wouldn't give up hope yet. It's not over 'til he marries her."

And she doesn't stumble over the words. Certainly isn't thinking of another lifetime, or a star he had once loved.

[childishgames]

"Perhaps."

Her lips purse unconsciously as the brush continues to move seamlessly through the older woman's hair.

"I'd just-- worry. That maybe he's letting go."

[calledmegentle]

"...A valid concern."

Because what if he felt he was the one clinging, now? What if he started to live more properly in this world, without the Pevensies behind him?

It stops her heart a little bit. Makes her entirely unable to follow up her words with something more reassuring.

[childishgames]

She's careful to set the brush down without making much of a noise. She's hopeful that the brief pause to squeeze her sister's shoulders before moving to start a loose braid isn't overly stressful.

"I'm just-- glad, really. That I've been frank with him. In case he does go off on his own."

[calledmegentle]

It gets Susan meeting her sister's eyes, just briefly. And meeting her sister's eyes solidifies for her exactly how much this conversation isn't about Lucy and Caspian at all.

Her gaze drops down to the table as she tries to keep up the cheeriness in her tone.

"That's... good of you. Being frank with people always lets them-- know what to expect."

[childishgames]

It's good to see the flicker in her sister's eyes. Good to know that they're talking about the same thing. A sure sign she's started to properly internalize the subtlety Susan's spent so much time trying to teach her.

"And what to hope for." She suspects that's more of the problem, really. "I think he's-- quite nervous of being frank, you know. He's come--"

The stumble is brief. It's difficult, still, keeping Susan separate while they're growing back to being so close.

"--from-- quite far away, and he's got to be-- concerned."

[calledmegentle]

"It's good you're able to alleviate those concerns, then. Not-- everyone is so good at being frank."

She certainly isn't.

[childishgames]

"Which is why he's found a 'nice' girl to spend his time with, Susan."

It had been a good first go at subtlety. She'd improve with time.

But this was, apparently, the limit of this time. "Because he thinks you don't care."

[calledmegentle]

She'd be prouder if the subject weren't so close to her heart. As it is, she'll try to hide the slight wince as things properly come to the surface.

"--He's right to. I can't-- care. Not as he'd like."

Caring hurts too much.

[childishgames]

"He's not--"

But it's impossible to call back to a possible source of pain her sister likely wouldn't want acknowledged as real. It stops quickly on her tongue, dies into another huff of breath.

"I don't-- believe that you don't care for him."

[calledmegentle]

"I never said don't, Lu."

Only can't. She's not certain which is worse.

[childishgames]

Maybe she's still too young. Maybe she's too stubbornly idealistic. Maybe she simply cares too much for the two people in question.

"But if you do," and there's not really enough room for her to sit beside Susan, so she moves to kneel instead at her sister's side, head resting against the older girl's leg. "Why doesn't he know it?"

[calledmegentle]

"Because I can't let myself."

Because she's terrified if she embraces this love, it'll be torn from her as all other loves have been.

"And it's-- not as though it's-- the most important thing."