Love

Lucy Pevensie was somewhere she wasn't supposed to be. At least, that's what her eldest brother, Peter, would say. Lucy, though, had developed her own ideas of right and wrong in the years since she first entered Narnia at the age of eight. Of course, she respected Peter as her older brother and as High King of Narnia, but she was seventeen years old now, and he couldn't dictate everything she did anymore.

So, just because Peter thought that Lucy shouldn't be sitting on the edge of her sister Susan's bed in the older girl's tiny apartment in the south of England, didn't mean that Lucy agreed. In fact, Lucy felt that it was a perfectly appropriate place to be.

"We're all meeting for supper next week. You should come!" Lucy urged earnestly, smiling at her older sister without a hint towards acknowledging how bold a suggestion this was. By "all," Lucy meant the seven friends of Narnia: Professor Kirke, Aunt Polly, Peter, Edmund, Eustace, Jill, and – of course – Lucy. Susan had been excluded from their number, first at her own request, but in years since by Peter's choice to name their group the seven friends of Narnia.

Susan also sat on the edge of her bed, up by the bedside table, where a small mirror was leaning against a stack of books. The Age of Innocence and Laura were the two titles that Lucy could make out from her position at the end of the bed, around the assorted objects Susan had on the table. She was leaning over the mirror while applying her make-up; she had plans to go to a party that evening.

Leaning away from the mirror but without looking at Lucy, Susan sighed and replied drily, "I doubt the others would be pleased to know you've extended me an invitation."

Lucy scoffed and tossed her hair over her shoulder, "Jill, perhaps. Don't mind her. Come, prove her wrong!"

"And Peter?"

"Peter can be an arrogant prick sometimes, but if you came he would welcome you."

Susan laughed, but said nothing. Lucy watched as Susan applied her lipstick to her lower lip, and then rubbed her lips together. As she set the tube down she turned to finally face Lucy. "Peter would welcome me if I agreed to devote my life to the things he believes in."

The sisters stared, slightly challenging, at each other for a few pregnant moments. Tension sprung up between them. Finally, Lucy quietly replied, "I know you know Narnia is real."

Susan pursed her freshly painted lips and turned away, saying nothing. She did not like arguing with Lucy, especially about this. Eventually, she said, "We were children, Lu. That part of our lives is over."

Indignant, Lucy hopped down the bed to sit closer to Susan, "But it's not, Su! You weren't there at the World's End, but Aslan so much as told us that he was –" She stopped as Susan whirled to face her sharply, her lips set in a hard line. Lucy squared her shoulders, inhaled deeply, and made to continue, but Susan cut her off.

"I know what you all say about him. Just because you want something to be true doesn't mean that it is."

Lucy deflated, and the sisters were quiet for a moment. The nasty things Jill sometimes said about Susan surfaced to Lucy's consciousness as she watched Susan work on her eye make-up. She refused to believe that Susan cared for nothing but her appearance and her social life. She turned her gaze to her hands in her lap, and started fiddling with her skirt contemplatively. The two sisters sat in a slightly tense silence, neither quite sure of what to say to the other. Several times they would glance each other's way, as if they were about to say something, before turning away; this would happen while the other was not looking.

Ultimately it was stubborn, ever-valiant Lucy who broke the silence, "Why is it so hard for you to admit that Narnia is real?"

Susan, who had finished making up her face, made a show of organizing her cosmetics on the bedside table. Lucy watched her with a slight frown. When it seemed clear that Susan had no reply, she said, "Please, Susan. Just answer the question."

The elder sister's fingers stayed their movement, and her head tilted towards her lap. After a few beats, she sighed, and finally lifted her head to face Lucy solemnly, brushing a lock of hair out of her face as she did so. "Lucy…"

"Don't lie to me." Lucy could tell by the tone of Susan's voice that she was beginning to repeat one of her tired lines that Lucy had heard too many times before.

Susan pursed her lips again, averting her gaze from Lucy and instead looking out the window. She took a deep breath, and this time hope flickered in Lucy's breast; Susan appeared to be steeling herself to say something new, and perhaps difficult. Without looking at Lucy, Susan said, "Perhaps it's too much for me."

Lucy's heart beat faster, and she was quick to reply, "What is?"

Susan shot her younger sister a stern look, as if to say, You know exactly what. Once she returned her gaze to the window, she instead answered, "Dwelling on Narnia, and enjoying the life I have now."

"Dwelling? You say that as if –" Lucy began, her voice raising slightly with indignance.

Susan, though, had finally found her courage. She turned sharply to face Lucy, and interrupted, "Yes, dwelling. Narnia, real or not, is behind us. It is part of our past. Real or not, one of the rules of the game was that we could never return once we were no longer children. Continuing to pine after such a game is dwelling. I prefer to live in the present, and focus on the future. Is that so unreasonable of me? Am I not permitted to enjoy this life that I have here? Must I mourn my childhood memories for the rest of my life?"

Silence. Susan's breast was heaving, and her fists were clenched. She seemed to have been bottling these emotions for a long time. Lucy licked her lips and tilted her head downward, returning her gaze to her hands clasped in her lap. As the seconds ticked by, Susan's shoulders relaxed, and she uncurled her fingers. Turning away from Lucy, she sighed and said, "I'm sorry, Lu. I shouldn't –"

"No," Lucy interrupted quietly, lifting her head. Susan stopped and turned to stare at Lucy. "I'm sorry." Susan blinked in surprise, and Lucy smiled ruefully. "I understand."

A long, low sigh of relief escaped Susan, and she finally smiled a wide, genuine smile at her younger sister, "You do?"

Lucy nodded. "I still don't feel the same way. I don't believe that I am mourning Narnia. Rather, I believe that my experiences in Narnia have made my perception of this world richer. I believe that it has affected you similarly, although you don't realize it. Yet, I do see your perspective. I do miss Narnia; it was a glorious part of our lives. If sadness for the loss of those days is what comes to mind when you think of Narnia, then I don't begrudge you for focusing on the present. I am sorry, though, that you were not able to return to Narnia a third time like me and Edmund. Perhaps it would have helped you see things my way."

Susan smiled drily, and chose only to say, "Perhaps," in response to that.

Lucy smiled slightly, knowing her sister was restraining herself from arguing, probably about the potential for Susan to be able to see things Lucy's way. She added, "Ultimately, you are free to do what you want with your life. I'm sorry for the part I've played in pressuring you to be someone you're not." Leaning forward playfully, she added, "And perhaps it does you good to not expect any of your current suitors to nearly go to war over your hand."

Susan could not help it; she laughed out loud. Lucy smiled broadly. Susan's full, unrestrained laughter at a joke to do with a memory from Narnia filled Lucy with joy, as well as hope for the future of their Narnian family's reconciliation.