❝and if you're gone tomorrow, what was ours still will be.❞
There has been rarely a moment where tragedy has not riddled Lydia Nowack's life. The invasion of Poland, her homeland, killed her maternal grandparents. The very first night of the Blitz...
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☾ ☽
There were no women aboard the Dawn Treader, Lucy and Lydia quickly realized. Therefore, no one on deck had a dress they could change into, but Caspian offered to lend them some of his clothes (which were, of course, too large on both of them, but with some adjustments and helping each other out, they managed to get them to fit well enough).
Lydia looked down at herself, grabbing hold of the sides of the pants. "This is strange. I've never really worn trousers before."
"Never?" Lucy inquired, tying her hair into a side ponytail.
"Well, to sleep in sometimes, but I prefer dresses and skirts. Although, considering we're on a ship and will remain on one for the foreseeable future, I'll happily trade a skirt for pants," she remarked, grabbing a hold of the bedpost she was standing by as the ship rocked to the other side because of the waters. "But I feel like it'll be a while before I gain my sea legs."
"If ever," the valiant queen joked as her friend suddenly stumbled to the other side of the room and threw her palm against the wall to keep from falling. Lucy offered her another hair tie once Lydia found her footing again, and as she tied her hair into a French braid, Lucy was nearly tempted to take her own hair and do the same. She stopped herself from reaching her hand up to her ponytail and instead stepped toward the window, looking out at the serene cerulean waves.
She'd always wondered why this world looked and felt so much more vibrant than the one she'd grown up in.
"Lucy," Lydia remarked, drawing her attention back, "which do you think is stranger: us falling into Narnia through a painting and Eustace is the hitchhiker, or us falling into Narnia through a train station that turned into a cave and me being the hitchhiker?"
Lucy smiled lightly at her questioned and answered, "Painting. At least we knew why we were here the last time. Caspian didn't call this time. But there has to be a reason why we're here, including you and Eustace. There's always a reason."
"Is your cousin awake yet?"
"No, thank Aslan," Lucy commented, letting out a deep exhale as she walked towards the door. Lydia laughed as she followed her through and up the stairs to the deck, where Caspian and Edmund were talking and waiting for them. "We're saved for a little bit without his voice shouting that he wants to go back to England. I have no doubt he'll be a pain in our necks again soon."
With all three of their conscious guests dressed in dry clothes, Caspian took them through to the Dawn Treader's main cabin, a room filled with Narnian treasures. There was a golden plate engraved with Aslan's head fixated to a cabinet, which only had one item sitting on it—an ivory horn with the bell carved in the shape of a lion's head. "Look," Lucy said, now standing in front of a wide shelf with a bow and arrows set atop it as Lydia stepped towards a painting of the Kings and Queens of Old, "it's Susan's bow and arrows."
