She's tired, aye, weary down to her very bones, but not yet ready to sleep. Susan stays still, held close in Caspian's arms, and listens to the sound of his breathing as it deepens, feeling his heartbeat under her hand, and tries to remember all the wonders the day had brought.

She tells them over in her head like stories to herself--

(the stories are true)

--as memory and promise both, as reason to hold fast as she can to what's been found rather than what's lost, and breathes a silent vow to all those who love her and who she loves in turn that she'll not give up trying, come

(Reap)

whatever storms.