When many think of London, they think of constant motion. They think of a city that is bursting with energy and never ceases to sleep. But at dawn, when the sun casts a warm glow in the air and before the business owners and workers wake up to open the stores, London was a completely different world. Some could argue that it appeared and felt like a ghost town, but Lucy would declare that it had a calm and peaceful atmosphere. She found herself walking the vaguely familiar streets of London. As she strolled down the quiet streets, she could not help but think of her days in the city as a child.

How young she was when she was forced to leave to the countryside and stay with the professor along with her elder siblings. How her life had changed since then. It was difficult for her to remember a time when she did not know about Narnia. Where she was just a little girl, scared of a never ending world war. But how many wars had she seen since then? How many battles had she fought as queen? How many friends had she lost?

She subconsciously followed the directions Aslan had given her right before her arrival in England and turned down the secluded Stanhope Mews street. It was a quaint area. Fully decorated with beautiful bright flowers, it was quiet and calm, and the brick sidewalk completed the gorgeous scene. She walked down the street, searching for the right house number, but stopped in her tracks when she saw a charming fenced in small brick house in between two larger yellow ones. She almost continued but realized that the house number read 137.

This is it

She hesitated before slowly opening the gate the fence and walked up to the doorstep.

She hesitated for a moment before knocking, trying to muster her courage.

She slowly pulled her fisted hand back, and gave a strong knock. Immediately following, she heard a commotion and thud from within the door. Then she heard footsteps steadily walking towards the door. It all happened so fast she found herself startled when the door swung open.

"Ah Lucy Pevensie, yes do come in." A middle aged man said before quickly slipping back into the house, leaving the door open. Lucy stood there, somewhat shocked with how fast everything had happened, and uncertain why the door was open wide, with no one to escort her in.

Come on Lu, he did say to come in. And if he knew me, then I must know him.

With that thought she slipped into the doorway which held a staircase and small hallway. Not knowing where to go, she listened and heard noises coming from the hallway. She walked through the first door which was a small study and saw the same man shuffling papers and stacking them into neat piles on an intricate wooden desk.

Lucy stood in the doorway awkwardly. "Um would you like me to come another time or-"

"Oh no do sit down." He replied as he continued to organize the small cozy space. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

Lucy would have politely said no because of how busy the man before her seemed to be, but she found she could not resist as it had been many years since she had had a good cup. "I would love a cup, if it is no trouble."

"Nonsense." He quickly strode out of the room and returned with a tray two minutes later.

"I always keep a fresh pot. You never know who is going to visit." He said with a wink and placed the tray on the newly organized desk. After pouring her a cup, Lucy immediately took a longing sip. She softly moaned in pleasure as the familiar taste erupted in her mouth.

"I take it there is no good tea where you are from?" He looked amused.

"Oh yes this is delightful. The tea is not the same where I... lived." Lucy said carefully. She did not know if it was safe to yet speak of Narnia and had learned that it was always better never to speak of it in England. But, the man before held something in his eyes that struck her. Could he be trusted? Had Aslan not instructed her to come to this house for a reason?

Curiosity once again getting the better of her, she asked, "And how Sir, may I ask, did you hear about me?"

The man before her chuckled. "Well, if you would allow me to introduce myself, I am Clive Staples Lewis, but to friends I am known as Jack or Clive, don't ask me how I got that nickname." He laughed. "But I am a writer, and I used to write boring things about science before I met Him and-"

"Who is Him?" Lucy interrupted.

"Oh, I have a Friend who has been talking to me. A deep rich voice that is guiding me. Instructing me to listen to you and your story. He talks to me all of the time, but only if I am listening." Clive smirked.

"Oh yes." Lucy replied. "I have a Friend who talks to me and guides me too. But my Friend is the King of kings where I am from. The Lord of the whole wood."

After hearing her words, Clive carefully leaned towards Lucy from across his desk, as if he were about to impart a very important secret. "Are these 'friends' not one and the same?"

They shared something in the moment that followed. A knowing that they were thinking of the same person. It was a weird feeling for Lucy. So many times she had felt that people thought she was a funny girl, someone who never knew when to stop pretending.

A moment of silence followed. Lucy found that she could not help but stare at the man named Clive Staples Lewis. He appeared to be middle aged. Not ancient, yet not young at the same time. His head was practically bald, and he appeared to be a little taller than average height. He was filled out, especially in his gut. His face was scattered with smile lines, and Lucy assumed that he was a happy man. She found that Lewis' eyes held wisdom, a knowledge that she could not begin to comprehend. She had no idea who the man before her was and no way of knowing why Aslan wanted her to specifically talk to him, but she had an inkling feeling that she could trust this man.

"Well get out with it then." Clive stated, looking very amused. Lucy could not help but swallow nervously. She could not believe she had just been caught staring and had to think of something to say or else she would be caught again. Her response was not what he was expecting. "Well, I am very curious as to know why you want to write about me and my family." She said seriously, changing the subject entirely. He looked her in the eye without hesitation. "I have found that the answer is very simple. Since it is so likely that children will meet cruel enemies, let them at least have heard of brave knights and heroic courage."

Lucy was taken aback at his words.

"Sir, my family are not what you speak of. Yes we have met cruel enemies, but if I am very honest with you, I will tell you that we have felt fear in those moments. I can assure you that my family will agree when I say I do not think that we match your criteria."

"But I never said anything about fear." He stated warmly. "Fear will always rise in such moments, but resisting that fear is what makes heroic courage."

Lucy understood the wisdom behind his words and saw the passion and kindness in his eyes. But what she could not understand is how a man so wise and kind could never have been heard of before. But she had the feeling that he did not want to be heard of. He knew his abilities and yet why had no one heard of them?

"Sir, I must ask," she blurted, "how has the world never heard of you?"

"Simply because I have not found the right story to tell." He said with a knowing smile. "But I shall let you in on a little secret." He smirked. "I am quite certain I have found the right one. Can you tell it to me?"

Lucy sighed. "Well, what would you like to hear?"

Clive smiled. "Everything."

"Well, I hope you are comfortable." She said with a grin as she began at the beginning of her and her siblings' story.

She explained what she had felt throughout her adventures, down to the smallest detail. Her fears of living in London, and what she felt as she pulled up to the Professor's mansion.

What she felt every time she was sent back to England from an adventure. "Oh but do make sure you remember the Professor. He has his own story too. Whenever we spent our holidays in England, Peter, Susan, Edmund, and I would beg Mum to let us visit the Professor, and it was always my favorite moments when he would tell of his adventure in Narnia. Those were some of my favorite memories in England. Sharing stories of our adventures down to the tiniest detail."

"Hmm, so the Professor has been to Narnia too?" Clive asked in confusion.

"Oh yes I'm sorry I am getting ahead of myself. Yes it is all a little confusing, em perhaps I should start at the beginning of his adventure. I am sure that will make it easier since it is the beginning yes?" She looked at Clive who was writing profusely on paper. "Good idea Lucy. Just remember to go slowly." He said with a wink.

"I shall do my very best." She grinned and started from the beginning, explaining the adventure of young Digory Kirk (the Professor) and his friend Polly Plumber. Each time they met and finished a story, he would then tell her the story back to make sure he got it right.

Lucy and Clive had tea every Wednesday morning to continue the chronicles. He felt like someone she had known all of her life. A dear friend. Every time Lucy spoke, Clive would put on his glasses and write notes as to not forget the details. Every time she finished her story, Clive would then ask questions to recap or discuss why things had happened the way they did. They became good friends.

One day, after several meetings, they had gotten to a close end.

"And you mentioned time here being completely different." He stated. "So em, was it particularly difficult going back and forth, growing up and then returning as a child?"

"Very much so." She sighed sadly. "But I have found that the most difficult times often brings the most rewards."

"And how old were you this time around?"

"You mean, now?"

"Yes." He chuckled.

"Well, I was 28 when I left Narnia last, but I came back to the same 18 year old that left England."

"By Jove that is interesting!" Clive exclaimed. "Now answer me this Lucy. As I have listened to your story, I have noticed that you have spoken fondly of Caspian or is that not so?"

Lucy contemplated how to answer this question. She could have told him the truth. That her and Caspian did in fact, by the Lion's mane, grow fond of one another. That they had gotten married and expanded their family with the addition of three beloved children: Eleanor, Eden, and Andrew. She could have said how happy and fulfilled she felt when Caspian gazed at her, and how thankful she was that Aslan had her wait for him. But, she said none of these things. For she had found that in her life, some of the best stories are those that you and only you, believe in.

"That is an entirely different story. All I shall say is that that is for the readers to decide."

"As you wish, dear Lucy." He said fondly.

"And what of Edmund and Susan? Did they find a happy ending? Did this Edmund find a girl of his dreams? And did Susan start believing again?"

"Yes, and yes. But those are entirely different stories."

"I am glad." Clive said genuinely.

"I must ask if you can now do something for me?"

"Always Lucy."

"You mentioned your goddaughter being named Lucy. I should like readers to believe these stories were made for her."

"You do not want credit for these stories?"

"I want people to believe only if they wish to."

"As you wish. But tell me. Do you think you will return to Narnia?"

Lucy gave a long sigh. "I have to believe that I will soon be in Narnia once more, completing my destiny."

"And how do you know?"

"Oh I don't, I just have a feeling. A feeling that there will be a last battle."

"And then what?" Clive asked.

"And then Sir, I feel that the True Adventure will begin." She said with a grin.