J.M.J.
Author's Note: Hello! Thank you for reading this one-shot. As you'll probably figure out before you get to the end of this, I'm a Catholic and this story is a very Catholic story. If that bothers you, you don't have to read it. Just please be respectful, as my religious beliefs are very important to me. This story is based on a headcanon I've had for some time, and I decided I wanted to finally write it up and share it. I hope you enjoy it!
I don't know that I need to write a disclaimer, since everyone knows that I don't own Narnia or any of the characters, but just to be on the safe side, I don't own Narnia or any of the characters created by C.S. Lewis.
In Your World, I Have Another Name
It was too early in the year for winter, but evidently no one had told the snow that. It was falling and blowing in the wind and piling up as if it was the middle of January rather than of October. Everyone on the street had their hands tucked in their pockets and their collars turned up in an attempt to keep the unseasonable cold at bay and they all looked extraordinarily annoyed as they hurried for home at the end of the day.
Everyone, that is, except for one girl of about fifteen years, who looked very much so as if the snow reminded her of something; which, in fact, it did. It made her think of another unseasonal snowfall many years ago, and the memory brought a sad smile to her face.
Her name was Lucy. She was that same Lucy who had discovered the land of Narnia when she went into a wardrobe and, with her brothers and sister, had been crowned a queen of that land by the Great Lion Aslan. The snow, of course, reminded her of the enchanted winter that Narnia had lain under until the curse had been broken. Even though the spell had been evil, the snow had been so beautiful and magical when she had first unexpectedly found herself in Narnia. She could never see a snowfall without remembering that day.
But that had been years ago, so so many years ago. She and Peter, Susan, and Edmund had reigned in Narnia for years, although when they had come back, they had found that no time had passed in England. Since then, Lucy had gone back twice. The first time, Peter and Susan had been told that they couldn't come back. The next time, Aslan had said the same thing to Edmund and Lucy. He had promised them that He was in their world as well, but went by another name. Lucy knew what Name He meant, and she knew that He really was here, but it just wasn't the same.
It wasn't the same. Who would have thought things – everything – would be so different and so much harder here? Growing up in Narnia had been delightful and the older she and her siblings had gotten, the closer they had become. Here, though, they only seemed to get further apart. Oh, that wasn't fair, Lucy reminded herself. She and the boys were just as close as they ever had been, even with Peter off at university. It was Susan who was the problem. She had changed completely. All she cared about now was make-up and clothes and parties and boys. Susan, the gentle queen, who had been so wise about such things in Narnia!
Lucy sighed. She wanted so much to see Aslan again, to talk to Him about this and all the other things she didn't understand, to be able to throw her arms around His neck and bury her face in His mane, to have Him comfort her - but that wasn't how He worked here. She didn't know why it couldn't be the same, but Aslan had told her once that things never happen the same way twice. He had a good reason for it, she didn't doubt, but still – there couldn't be any harm in wishing, could there?
"Lucy."
Lucy's heart seemed to stop for a moment. That voice! She knew it and loved it better than any other voice in the world. The sound of it thrilled her like a strain of beautiful music. Wildly, she looked around, but there was no sign of the Speaker.
"Lucy." It came again, and this time Lucy got a clearer idea where it was coming from.
She turned her head toward it, but she still saw nothing save the old buildings on the other side of the street, many of which still had damage from the bombings during the War.
"Aslan?" Lucy called.
"Lucy." The Voice was clearly coming from a building a little way behind her on the other side of the street. It was one of the ones that still bore scars from the bombs, and in its design, it managed to be both humble and magnificent at the same time. It was a small Catholic church.
If she hadn't been so very excited, Lucy might have been just the slightest bit surprised that the Voice should come from there. She had never thought much about the Catholics and knew very little about them, save that many people said they were a little odd. There wasn't time to think about that now. There was only to get across the street and get into that church.
Scarcely taking time to glance both ways, she dashed across the street and ran up the stone steps of the church. Inside, there was a small entryway and then the church itself. An altar was directly ahead of her, beyond a short railing which was itself beyond the rows of pews. There was a handful of people sitting or kneeling in these pews, but Lucy scarcely glanced at them. Her eyes were fixed on what was sitting on the altar. It looked a little bit like a golden sun with rays coming out of it and a wheat-colored disk inside. But it made no difference to Lucy what it looked like. She knew without doubt that, somehow, that disk wasn't an "it" – it was Him!
Lucy's first impulse was to go rushing up to Him, but she had learned before now that it was sometimes best to be solemn and still, even at the happiest moments. So instead she went silently and sat down in the front pew, her heart so full it felt like bursting.
Had she been paying attention to the other people there, she would have seen some looks that ranged from concerned to judgmental pass among them. She was, after all, the only female there without a veil on her head and she hadn't genuflected on both knees, as is the custom at such times. To be fair, the other people's concern was that, if Lucy didn't know this custom, it might be that she didn't know other parts of the Faith, particularly that the Eucharist they were adoring was Jesus Christ Himself in His Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity. On that last point, at least, their fears were ungrounded. Lucy not only believed like they did – she knew.
For a long time, she sat, simply enjoying her complete happiness. Before now, she had had so many things she wanted to talk to Aslan about, but now it was enough just to be close to Him in silence. The cares and worries of the day seemed to melt away and Lucy felt that she never wanted to leave. She was so comfortable here. As the night came on, she lay down on the hard, wooden pew and drifted off to sleep.
The gray light of dawn was shining through the broken stained-glass windows when Lucy was awakened by beautiful singing that sounded as if it was straight from Heaven. She sat up, her hair mussed and her neck stiff, but she didn't mind that when she saw that He was still there. For a moment, she just sat there, perfectly content. Then she turned her head to see who was singing. It was clearly the only other person in the church, and she knew from his clothing that he was a priest saying, or rather singing, his morning prayers.
All at once, Lucy knew that she must join the Catholic Church. If it was in their churches that God Himself chose to dwell, then it must be the true religion. For God would never be where truth was not.
With this resolution made, she got up and went to the priest. "Excuse me," she said very softly.
The priest held his finger up to his lips, but he got up right away and followed her to the foyer.
"Can I help you?" he asked, and his voice was still quieter than normal.
"My name's Lucy Pevensie." She held out her hand and he shook it. "I'd like to become a Catholic."
The priest's smile at these words lit his whole face up. "I'm Father Talbot. Are – are you quite sure?"
Lucy nodded emphatically. "I couldn't be more sure. I – I don't know very much about it, but I do know that that's God in there."
Fr. Talbot looked at her in amazement, wondering how this little girl who knew so little about the Catholic Faith could believe in the True Presence with a surety that he not seen even in many life-long Catholics. He might have suspected it was a trick of some sort, but Lucy's innocence convinced him that it was not.
"In that case," he told her, "you'll have to take classes. It's still early enough that you can join the class that is preparing for baptism this upcoming Easter. You'll need to talk to your parents, though. Joining another faith can often lead to problems."
"They'll understand – I'm sure of it," Lucy said. "They may even join me. I know my brothers and my sister will when I tell them about this. So will my cousin and some of my friends. I'll have to tell them right away. I'll be back later today and then we'll all talk to you about it."
She went hurrying away, Fr. Talbot looking after her in astonishment. He wondered what had happened that had convinced her so firmly of the truth.
Lucy was close to her house when she heard Edmund calling her name. She looked over her shoulder to see him running after her.
"Where have you been, Lu?" he asked, breathing a little hard at having had to run to catch her. "Dad and I have been looking all over for you all night. He was going to call Peter first thing this morning if you didn't turn up. He probably already has."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Ed." Lucy's apology was sincere, but she was far too happy to allow her voice to show it. "It's just – I've found Him!"
Edmund didn't need to ask who. "Here? Where? I didn't think –"
"It's different," Lucy warned him. "It's different, but it's Him, and so it's wonderful."