faith
Susan does not understand how he can be so calm as he rides out to battle. After all, he comes back so often bloodied and broken and in such pain that it hurts her, too, and she is merely watching. She asks him about it, once, as he lies in bed recovering, a pale reflection of magnificence, and his answer is nigh incomprehensible. "Aslan," he says, a smile touching his lips and coloring his voice bright gold, and she pats his hand and thinks his concussion has perhaps left him confused – but then, she has never been good at believing.
hope
Even in the dreary grey of England, Lucy's eyes still manage to find something to wonder at. To her, the oak in the Professor's garden is less mute vegetation than a friend, and although no face appears when she speaks she continues with her one-sided conversations. It is by this tree that Susan finds her lying in the grass one day, looking at the clouds.
"Look, Su! It's a lion." She points, and Susan squints. "Don't you see? Aslan will take us back to Narnia soon!" Susan does not have the heart to say that it looks like a hat.
love
The teachers are all impressed by the changes wrought in Edmund, and Susan could tell them how; there was a knife and a Lion and a broken table and a love deeper than the dawn of time – but then there is a railway accident, and the boy who held so much promise, whom she loved so much, with such a fierce abandon, is gone. The Lion cannot be real, thinks Susan Pevensie, because if He were then why would He give Edmund back his life just to take it away? That is not love, she thinks, but she is wrong.
AN: More 100-word Narnia drabbles! These weren't originally intended to be about Susan, but things happened... anyway, please review!