Yes, there is indeed one of these which refers to the Lord of the Rings. Never mind when it was actually published. Also, I hope you enjoy. If you have other heterosexual pairings you would like to see me do (preferably ones that don't end up together in canon, but give me anything), please PM me or review with a request! And I didn't put in the numbering for these because it would end up too clumsy, but it is 20. Unless I've counted wrong. And I guess I can do another set for the same characters if you want and I can think of them.

A boy with a dirty face; the one thing that stood out in that half-dream. A boy who looked like he had been crying, and all she wanted to do was comfort him. She never realised that she had.


"Good for you, Digs." Her words were wonderfully comforting, and Digory longed to tell her how much she meant to him, but somehow he couldn't say it, and the moment passed, but he hoped she understood.


Neither had thought of it, while they were out walking trying to forget the sharpest part of their loss, but just as they entered the house again, all the glances and amused smiles suddenly made sense, and both coloured. She quickly withdrew her hand from his.


She screamed the first name that came to her lips, "Digory!" and he was there in a moment, crying out in pure fury, slapping the man so hard across the face that he fell to the ground. He asked her how she was. She had not been hurt; he had come so quickly.


She leaned her head on the boy's shoulder, happy, enjoying his company, but something made her draw away and glance around; in the row behind sat Digory Kirke, and his expression was utterly baffling, and suddenly the world didn't seem as rose-coloured as before.


They stood in utter silence together, simply staring at the ruin that had once been a tree, a connection, a link to Narnia, the place where their friendship had been truly forged, as if in fire. But the destruction of the apple tree did not destroy their friendship.


"Professor Kirke," she had said, mischief lighting her face, and he would have replied, "Miss Plummer," only the knowledge that she was still unmarried, after all this time, had somehow stolen his breath.


"We could marry, you know," Digory suggested offhandedly. Her innocent laughter sounded the death knell to his affection; or so he wished it had.


As she tossed and turned, Polly knew suddenly, without a doubt, that she was jealous—of his housekeeper.


"Why," he asked, in a moment of rare straightforwardness (a professor liked his riddles, after all), "did you never marry?"

Polly considered it, and answered at last, "Well, there's still time."

Digory did not seem to understand the meaning behind her words, or maybe didn't care to, and the moment passed.


Come quickly, was all the message had said, and dread filled her heart as she considered what the missive could possibly mean, in wartime.


"You are the Lady Polly!" was the astonished exclamation, "and you the Lord Digory!" They were; but as she glanced at him she saw something reflected in his gaze. It sounded, the way the children said it, as if they were married.


"At sixty, Polly? Really?" he asked. Her answer was defensive; she was lonely, and wanted someone, and that was natural. Then he said, apparently innocently, "Am I not enough?"

No, Digory, you are not enough; you do not make yourself enough; but you could.


It was like a Fellowship, he reflected; all of them trying to assist Narnia, unable to be really friends outside the Fellowship, because that deepest of interests was not there. Yet in that book, none of the Fellowship had felt inexplicably drawn to another, and long to take them in their arms.


The eldest girl was missing, poor foolish Susan, but what affected Polly the most was seeing how crushed Digory looked at it.


He was surprised to feel a strong relief, when Polly at last told him that her extended dalliance with that other fellow was over and done with. He'd been waiting for the engagement announcement with more trepidation than he liked to admit.


The idea of seeing the rings again set an odd flutter in her stomach. Her gaze met that of Digory as it was discussed, and she suddenly knew they were both thinking the same thing: wishing they could return, rewind the clock and try again. Maybe things would have been different.


They'd been talking quietly amongst themselves for a good while now, but presently he became aware that the entirety of her attention was fixed on him, and he relished it.


There was a jolt, and sharpest pain, as he seemed about to be torn from himself, and instinctively, in the blind agony, he reached for the only woman who had ever really mattered, and she met him halfway.


Unstiffened; it was the best explanation of what had happened to them. He looked younger, a golden beard flowing over his chest, and more handsome than she remembered. And now they had eternity ahead of them, in the prime of their wisdom, and they could spend it together, and no one would ever tear them apart.

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