Blood. Lots of it. Covering Lucy's hands. The sticky, red liquid clung to her, she looked down at the person who was bleeding. Frantically, she realised in was Anne. She applied pressure to the wound, but couldn't find one. Tears fell down her face….
"Good Morning!" A chipper voice called as the doors to Queen Lucy's room opened widely.
Noticing that Lucy hadn't woken Anne sat down on Lucy's bed, shaking her shoulder gently. "Wake up, your Royal Sleepy-Head."
Lucy's eyes shot open and she jumped awake. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked at Anne.
Smiling, Anne jumped up and went to Lucy's wardrobe. Opening the doors she pulled out two dresses, holding them up and inspecting them.
"Now, green and gold or silver and blue? I personally think the blue will make your eyes pop. The gold might warm up your skin tone though. What do you think?" She holds the dresses out in front of her.
Lucy stares at her, tears welling up in her eyes.
"Lu? You ok?" Anne looks concerned. "Love?"
Lucy bolts from bed and wraps her arms around the older girl. Anne wasn't her mother, she was much more than that. She was Lucy's friend, advisor, lady in waiting, confident. To think that anything would happen to her, would be horrible. Anne was three years older, almost Susan's age, but was so maternal over anyone she came in contact with.
Anne giggles. "What brought this on?"
"Nightmare," Lucy whispers.
Anne stroked her hair for a while, soothing the thirteen year old. "Alright, time for you to get dressed."
Anne helped Lucy dress in the silver and blue dress, and sat her down at the vanity. Unleashing Lucy's hair from it's braid Anne began to brush it.
"What do you dream about, Lucy?" Anne asked.
"People, Aslan. You? Wait? Let me guess? Edmund?" Lucy laughed.
Anne blushed. She had confided in Lucy, that though he was a year younger, Anne had a very large crush on Edmund.
"Your hair is getting long," Anne sighs.
Lucy meets Anne's eyes in the mirror. "Are you alright Anne? One would think that you had the nightmare."
"You are growing up so fast. To think, one day I will no long be of any use to you. You will not need me."
Lucy stands up and hugs her. After all these years it had always been Anne who had comforted Lucy. Now it seemed it was the older girl who need Lucy.
"I will always need you. Just maybe a little less. I don't need you to hold my hand to walk down the stairs anymore, but I'll always need you to come with me on a journey."
Anne pulls back and studies the girl at arms length. Cupping her face she kisses Lucy's forehead. "Lucy. My Lucy. No matter how you grow you must promise me something. Two somethings, rather."
"What?"
"One, You will never forget who you are. You will stay true to yourself. Second, You will never forget me. No matter how we are separated."
Lucy hugs her again. There was lots of hugging the remainder of the day.
Time went on. Edmund and Anne had a relationship and after years of Lucy's begging, they got engaged.
They were never married, Anne died from a fever a month before the wedding. Lucy was there, in her final hour. Sitting on her bed, holding Anne's hand, wiping a cool cloth over her forehead. The other three Pevensies walked in as if on cue. Edmund took her other hand and Peter and Susan gathered round.
She smiled weakly at them. Turning to Edmund she laughed, but it turn quickly into a cough.
"If I could, I would marry you right now and every day for the rest of our lives. I don't know how to say this in my situation without making it sound sappy, but I love you."
To Peter she said, "You are the most arrogant person I ever met, but I love you anyway. We all do."
She turned to Susan and smiled at her knowingly. "There will come when you will deny everything in life. Please do not deny who I was."
And finally Lucy. "My Lucy."
She took a final breath, and was gone.
Years went by, in Narnia and in our world. Lucy and Anne met again, in true Narnia.
Anne looked radiant, with copper hair and green eyes. The two laughed and embraced. Cupping her face Anne smiled in disbelief.
"Lucy. My Lucy."
Author's Note: When I get sad my maternal instincts kick in. This I cannot help. I always dreamed that I would raise my future daughter like Lucy. All characters (save Anne) belong to none other than C.S. Lewis. Rest in peace, my friend.