Disclaimer: Of course I do not own the characters or setting. C.S. Lewis owns it all. I just wrote the plot.

Author's Note: This is my second Digory/Polly story. All the people who review A Touch of Strength wanted more Digory/Polly. So here is more! I have it that Digory and Polly were 11 and 10 when they had their adventure. This story takes place five years later.

Dedicated: To literaryfreak who suggested I write a story about Digory and Polly when they're older.

Blossoming

The flower twirls back and forth between Polly Plummer's fingers. Digory Kirke also watches the flower; both young people are silent. They sit in Polly's backyard, under the shade of a tree.

Polly's gaze wanders over the wall that closes them in the yard. Five years ago a boy had peeked curiously over the wall; that was when she and Digory first laid eyes on each other. During that summer they became great friends and remain so. That summer was when they had their amazing adventure of magic rings, other worlds, and the Witch.

The Witch! The whole incident involving her was printed up in the newspapers for weeks. Even though it has been several years since that exciting afternoon, many still remember it, and it is a common topic still discussed.

Both Polly and Digory remember that day – that whole adventure. They think about it quite a bit. But they have not talked about it since they buried Uncle Andrew's magic rings.

Digory lifts his eyes from the blossom and up to Polly's face. Her lashes droop over her pink cheeks, her expression thoughtful. Her hair, which tumbles down her back – and is pulled from her face with a blue ribbon that matches her eyes – glistens in the sunlight. She hardly looks any different from when he first met her those years ago, besides being older and taller. Digory blinks as he realizes he has been staring at her – not very gentlemanly like either.

He is startled when Polly suddenly fixes him with her gaze. For a long while she studies his face. Curiosity, dawning recognition, and at last understanding swirl through her eyes and settles on her face.

"What?" Digory asks, wondering what Polly is thinking.

She smiles a slow smile; it is a strange smile – one that Digory has never seen before. It does not light up her face as when she smiles happily at him. Nor is it really a sad smile, for then her eyes darken and her eyebrows draw together. It would perhaps be a bitter and uncertain smile that she gives him.

"Just how you look," Polly says slowly.

"Oh?" Digory looks intently at his friend, a strange concern building up inside him. "What about how I look?"

Color creeps across Polly's cheeks, and she is silent for several moments before speaking. "The look on your face reminds me of how you looked when…." Polly pauses, looks away from Digory back to the flower in her hand, and then finishes in a quiet voice "…when we first met her."

"Jadis," he says softly, instantly knowing of whom she speaks.

Digory watches Polly worry her lip and gaze intently at the flower as she resumes twirling it.

"Do you think of her a lot – of our adventure?" Digory waits for an answer.

Polly at last looks at him again. "Aye, lately I have been haunted by dreams. I dream things happened differently during the adventure. Sometimes I dream you listened to her and took the fruit…." Polly trails off and her eyes glaze over, as though remembering a particular dream, for her face seems to cloud over. But then she blinks, and the look is gone as she continues, "Other times I am not even with you; it is like I had never existed."

She then once more turns her gaze away from him, this time giving the sky her attention. Digory, however, forces her to look at him when he firmly takes her chin in his hand. He does not speak until Polly reluctantly meets his dark eyes.

"You are frightened by these dreams; it was like I never really needed you," Digory states, his eyes boring into Polly's. "There are other things you dream that trouble you, that you haven't told me, isn't there?"

Polly's face turns red. She tries to pull herself from Digory's touch and gaze; he refuses to let her go.

"Yes," she says nervously. She cannot lie to him when he looks at her with that serious, concerned expression on his face. "But there is no need to speak of them." She does not desire to speak of them; if she did, she would have to admit…

"Polly." That is all Digory says, hoping she will open up to him. But she firmly keeps her mouth shut. They stubbornly stare at each other. Digory surrenders first; he sighs resignedly and drops into his lap his hand that held her chin.

"I shall be forever grateful that you were there with me," he says. Suddenly feeling shy, he looks at the ground.

The spinning flower suddenly halts, swaying only slightly. Polly looks at her friend and blinks in surprise. "What?"

"I don't know what would have happened if you had not been there with me. You believed in me to make the right decisions. You forgave me for acting so beastly. You supported me and gave me comfort. And I thank you."

Polly colors slightly as she remembers when they had left the Place and wonders if Digory remembers it, too. She gives him a brilliant smile. "That was all I wanted to know," she breathes to herself. Then in a clear, sincere voice she says, "You are a dear friend to me, Digory."

A strange look settles on his face, one that she cannot comprehend.

"Polly, I –"

"Mr. Kirke!" the maid calls from the house.

Irritation and frustration flash through Digory's eyes before he quickly wipes the emotions away. He gives Polly a small, tight, unsatisfied smile.

"I must go."

"Thank you for visiting," Polly says politely, confused, wondering about Digory's peculiar behavior today.

Digory gets to his feet, nods to her in farewell and walks into the house. Polly stays in the yard long after he has left, wondering about him and what he was going to say. The blossom she holds starts to spin again.

THE END

Author's Note: I have really no idea what behavior was acceptable and unacceptable in the early 1900s. So I don't know if Digory holding Polly's chin would be considered too forward or something; if it was…sorry! Anyway, please let me know what you think!