Whisper in the Breeze
Summary- Three weeks after leaving the wardrobe, after more than ten years in Narnia, Susan Pevensie struggles to remember herself.
Disclaimer- The Chronicles of Narnia belong to C. S. Lewis, as well as Andrew Adamson and Douglas Gresham, the producers (and writer) of the most recent Narnia movies.
Susan Pevensie sat in the sill of her bedroom window. It was still summer, and the warm air had lulled her into a place just between sleep and wakefulness. She was back in Finchley, "back home," she kept saying to herself, but the thought always seemed hollow. Her eyes were closed, half to guard against the sun streaming through the window. It was cracked slightly, to let in fresh air, and a voice in the wind seemed to whisper.
Narnia.
Her eyes opened, heavy and unfocused. She heard the breeze again.
Narnia.
She felt so tired and yet unable to sleep. Lucy was in the room, on her own bed, with a book. Or she had been the last time that Susan had looked at her. She could not find the strength to turn her head as the breeze whispered again.
Narnia.
Had it been only a dream? But they had all had it. A game Lucy had suggested? Some fantasy of a child's mind? That was possible. Her imagination was so vivid, she had drawn them all in, and they had dreamt of the things she had imagined and illustrated for them with her words.
Only a dream, a fantasy.
Narnia.
Yet, Lucy was not prone to dark thoughts. She might create a villain, to have more fun. But there were things that Susan could not believe she would imagine. Lucy would never pretend that Edmund would betray them. Even if he had teased her badly, she was never like that. She would not dream of a violent sacrifice.
Without coming out of her half-sleep, her breath quickened. The images flashed before her and she struggled to wake, to free herself of them.
The Stone Table, the wicked knife, the statues that had been living and lived again, the battle. Those could not have been Lucy's imagination. Even Aslan...
The Lion loomed before her eyes, so near she was sure she could feel his breath on her face, calming her, assuring her that she was safe and that she was sane.
The breeze would not stop.
Narnia.
"Susan! Lucy!"
A man's voice brought Susan to life again. She sat up straighter, confused.
Lucy was already on her feet, wide-eyed and grinning.
"Aslan!" she shouted, and she was out of the bedroom door in a moment.
Susan, too, hurried to follow. Narnia. Narnia. Home. Was it time? Was the dream of England over?
Both girls stood at the top of the stairs, frozen. A man in uniform stood near the door, their mother caught in a tight hug. Both of the girls stared for several moments before Susan remembered the voice and the face.
She was not excited, was not disappointed, was not anything, but she tried to smile. That was what she was supposed to do. "Father."