Caspian had heard the stories as a child, whispered as he was tucked into bed, illustrated in epic words as he looked up at the clear night sky. That was how he first heard of Lucy: the queen, the fighter, the healer. The youngest, and the one who had heeded Aslan's call. She had seemed so Great to him then, a powerful woman in whose hands one could lay one's life, someone whose vision could encompass the entire universe.

That had been how he thought of Lucy back then, of course. Reality, when it happens, is much different. But even within the child-queen he meets, he sees little glimpses of all those things -- when they discuss strategy, when she mentions some anecdote from her old reign, or even when she stares off into the horizon on the Dawn Treader, caught in some memory too profound to share with him.

When he sees her again, many many lifetimes later in the True Narnia, she is all of it -- the Lucy of the stories, the Lucy he knew, Lucy as all she could be.