𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 || Narnia x The Hunger Games Crossover

Epilogue

A/N: So, this is it, we've reached the final chapter of Swanwhite and I honestly can't believe we're already here. Thank you SO much to everyone who's read and supported this story for the past few months, you are all absolutely incredible and your reactions and feedback mean the actual world to me!!

I also want to give a huge bonus shout out to Abby W, aka my beta reader who has sacrificed her time and sanity alongside me for the past two and a half years of this writing process; I truly would not have survived this book without her and I can't thank her enough.

As I mentioned in a very early author's note, there is still quite a bit of Swanwhite content to come in the form of four short tie-in novelettes, which will be posted in a separate book, so feel free to follow me if you're interested in bonus perspectives and side stories we were unable to experience from Lucy's point of view!

In order, these will include:

—Eustace (before the Games)
—Digory (and his history with Polly)
—District 8 (during and after the Games)
—Edmund (during the Games)

I have no upload schedule for these stories, as they are currently still in draft form, but they should be coming within the next couple of months, and I hope they will give you a fuller experience of the story I meant to tell!

Now without further ado, the longest chapter I have ever written in my life. And thank you all again from the depths of my soul.

Legends Never Die

~Tricia

xXx

EPILOGUE

A soft roar faded in and out, rushing up with a bubbling, frothing tickle, and then out again, cool beneath warm fingers and toes, gentle yet strange, foreign.

No ache invaded the comfortable calm, no pain or discomfort laced its tranquility, only the warmth of the bright world beyond fluttering eyelids, natural light flooding in unbidden—a cloudless blue sky tinged almost gold.

A deep sigh, the taste of salt on the air, the distant cry of some unfamiliar bird breaking the soft, constant rush.

Something didn't make sense.

And then she remembered.

Lucy sat bolt upright and her fingers dug into soft white sand, cool and damp as crystal clear water lapped up around her legs like a pool of diamonds, and her eyes flew out into the endless shining sea.

Water, stretching out as far as the horizon, water the color of the richest turquoise and the palest sapphire, glittering under a brilliant robin's egg sky, the crash of waves registering fully as another bird cried in the distance.

It was a scene out of a fairytale, a scene she had only ever brushed with fingertips against faded parchment, now real beneath her hands and before her eyes.

She stood at once and moved reflexively to wring out her clothes, but clutched only dry cotton fluttering soft as silk around her thighs. She blinked and stared, all her drenched arena clothes gone, replaced by a white sundress and a soft blue blouse tied loosely at her midsection.

She reached back and pulled what should have been a soggy, sandy tangle of curls over her shoulder, but her fingers only ran through silky auburn waves, brilliantly red in the sun.

Her hands flew to her face, to her forehead, feeling for the gash but finding only smooth skin at her temples, and even when she glanced down at her legs they both shone smooth and soft and unscarred.