I always loveddd the Narnia movies...and I feel like Susan is the least understood person. SO, here's my take on her feelings after she goes away! I've always had this canon where Susan knows about Narnia but had to sacrifice her memories in order to have her siblings keep theirs and YEA I FANGIRLED OVER SUSAN X CASPIAN SO MUCH 3
Enjoy...? I guess...?
Mr. Lewis owns all 7 wonderful books of Narnia~!
March 20th, Year 1941
Narnia
They share a long moment of silence together, eyes locked firmly on each other's. He's the first one to crack.
"I wish we could have had more time together."
There it was. The broken silence, and suddenly, words tumble out of her mouth, the protective dam no longer there. It's like water, roaring and unpredictable.
Like Narnia.
"We never would have worked anyways." She chuckles lightly, trying to seem indifferent. But her pounding heart beating in a slightly erratic manner betrays her. Every da-dum, da-dum feels more and more painful. He was the light when she had lost all hope in love interests. He was all she had wanted: brave, witty, loyal.
She bit her lip, focusing only on the physical pain. She wasn't sure if her heart would last much longer. He gazes at her with those mesmerizing onyx eyes, confusion and hurt flashing across his features.
"Why not?" He questions, almost too innocently, as if he never had known the consequences of being stuck in the Shadow Lands. A sharp pang shot across her chest. unlike any other pain she had felt before. It took all her effort to keep her lips from quivering pathetically. She took a gulp of breath, and forced her lips to move.
"Well, I am 1300 years older than you." It's another feeble attempt at making light of this situation, and a pathetically weak one at that. She even cracks a smile, but it shakes with unshed tears. They gaze into each other's eyes again, words no longer of use. Deep onyx finds startling blue ones.
She begins to turn away, knowing her time was up. He watches her turn, almost as if he was about to stop her. There, in that moment, lay so many unspoken promises, so many wishful dreams waiting in the future, but never to happen. She swallows hard, debating her choices.
Don't do it.
You're better than this.
Just walk away, back to reality. Her mind chimes. The words form on her lips like a mantra, and it takes all of her willpower not to cry.
It's your last chance. A whisper resounds quietly. The voice is timid, and it's frightened. It's scared of all the consequences, of all that might happen to her reputation if she turned back now. Would she really be able to move on? She absolutely would not come back, even if her deepest desires told her to.
Abruptly, she whisks around, planting a soft kiss on his lips. Her arms encircle his neck, and his, her waist. She pours all her unsaid feelings into her lips, and to his, praying that he would understand.
He responds with fervor, pulling her close, and never wanting to let go. Sparks dance at their every touch, like the hot embers of a kindling fire. After an eternity, they pull away. He looks at her, and she looks at him. She can feel a dam about to break, the walls constructed around her crumbling-and crumbling fast.
She throws her arms around his toned form for what may be the last time, and a lonely tear slips down her soft cheek. He wants this moment to be forever-he wants her to be there for him, to ground him to the earth for eternity. No, she did not ground him. She lifted him off his feet; she was a whirling gust that danced with beautiful liveliness, and he was in the heart of the storm. She was a roaring tornado, appearing for a brief moment, and leaving with the prisoners. He could not bear letting her go.
"When I find you again, I promise-" He's cut off by her sudden absence from his arms. It feels supernatural, as if she had always been there, and suddenly was gone. Her head bobs in a tiny nod, a silent goodbye.
Her siblings are waiting patiently by the tree that would rip her presence from him forever. She forces a smile, as if all her goodbyes have been said, when in reality, there was so much more.
They share one last look before she's sucked back into her so-called home.
"You coming, Phyllis?" The boy from before, the one whom she had deceived, was waiting on the train, a gentle smile on his soft features. It was nothing like his rough, battle-worn eyes, smoldering with loyalty to his land, and love for his new-found friend. But still, she returns the smile, ever so gently, and she thinks, It'll be okay now.
The train rattles off into the distance.
August 18th, Year 1942
America
It's been two years now, and she's in America, doing her college studies. She's all but forgotten about Narnia, the promised land that would fulfill her every dreams. Lu had written to her a couple times, and so had Ed, and even Eustace, her stuck-up cousin. They all had gotten back to Narnia, and their tales of adventure filled her with envy. Not once had she so much as heard even the delusion of a lion's roar, and it disappointed her. Even Peter had sworn he saw Aslan for a second at the town square the other day. So why couldn't she?
Susan had believed as much as any of them all, even though it had seemed childish the first time. She had even tried telling Anna, her best friend, about it.
But Anna had only laughed, and remarked on how silly she had been as a child.
That was the last time she ever tried mentioning Narnia.
There were still pictures on her walls, the paintings she had poured countless time into. They depicted her entire family together, crowns proudly displayed on their heads, standing in front of the thrones of Cair Paravel. Their faces were hardly recognizable now, as they had been many many years older. She also drew Aslan, roaring and shaking his mane valiantly, in front of the Shuddering Woods. The trees, too, appeared on her canvases. They were dancing to a tune Lu was singing, her dress twirling between them. There was also Aslan's Table, and the White Witch, and the battle against the Telmarines. There was only one thing missing:
Him.
Countless times had she tried and failed to depict him in full detail. Countless times had she failed, and, frustrated, torn up her paper, destroying all evidence of it. Peter had visited once, and noticing this as well, had asked bluntly why he wasn't shown. She had just scoffed in response, saying something along the lines of "Can't draw him too well."
Peter had asked her this every time he visited, and every time Susan didn't reveal her true feelings. He was a book rather left unopened, a road rather left less traveled. She refused to bring up memories of him, but still didn't understand why she had ever tried to draw him.
She'd even had a few boyfriends over the years, trying to forget him. But all attempts ended in vain. Everywhere she went, his face appeared, his hands beckoned. With her boyfriends, she had seen his eyes, his hair, his lips. She could never forget the feeling of his arms around her, his lips pressed softly to her own. She had been lying to Peter all along. Every time she tried to draw him, she remembered too much of him. She knew the way he walked- confidently, kingly, but never as if he were higher than anyone. He was kind, and sympathetic to others. He was dead loyal to the cause he believed in, even if everyone else thought otherwise.
He was the one she fell in love with.
Even now she was in love with him. No one could ever replace those deep onyx eyes, those callused hands, that soft touch. He was irreplaceable, a solid rock in her heart's ocean.
She's dating that guy who calls her Phyllis, Clive. What an odd name, Clive. By now he had already figured out her real name, but decided to keep calling her Phyllis, a touch of old times. It almost pained her to respond to that name.
When Clive spoke, his words danced of his tongue like a hot fire. Quick, jittery, and shallow. All she could remember was her name on his lips, the light accent coating his words. He said her name like it was the last word in the dictionary: slow, meaningful, and thoughtful. She could almost see the faint smile on his lips as his tongue rolled over the unfamiliar name. Compared to all those strange labels in Narnia, "Susan" wasn't exactly status quo.
"Phyllis!" Clive calls, gesturing wildly. "Come over here, the stars are out tonight!" He so desperately wanted to impress her with his vast knowledge of astronomy, the only thing he could think of as vaguely romantic. She's only slightly reluctant to comply, as he's not exactly the best of people to be gazing at stars with.
Not like a prince...
She shoves those treacherous thoughts out of her mind, and reminds herself to focus in the present. Clive's already babbling, waving to the numerous constellations.
"And that one right there, you see? The one that looks like an upside down Y, that one's called-"
"The Headless Giant." Susan breathes, unable to refrain the rush of memories. Clive peers at her suspiciously, and she completely forgets he's there. For a moment, he's not Clive anymore. She remembers a night very much like this one, a night of twinkling stars, of fawns and mice, and a dozen pathetic suitors.
"Are you quite alright, Phyllis?" Clive questions, worry etched into his face. She sharply turns back to him, having been dragged back into reality's falsity.
She fakes a smile, as if the whole thing was just an inside joke. She knows this smile from a while before- it's the same one she wore on her last day. It's been a mask she has burned into her skin, constantly present.
"Anyways, that one's called Perseus, and next to him..." Clive's voice drones on, but she has already memorized the stars. The Ship, the Hammer, and the Leopard. She rattles off, her eyes subconsciously finding them on their own. Tarva, the Lord of Victory, and Alambil, the Lady of Peace. She smiles softly as Mars and Venus come into view. Things would always be different, now that she was in the real world. Those names were just what they were: names. Narnia was just another wistful dream of her foolish childhood.
She doesn't realize a tear escaping her eye until Clive cries out.
"Phyllis! Are you okay?"
She hastily swipes at it, flustered that she was so weak in front of him. Hardening her mask again, she smiles certainly.
"I'm fine, Clive, it's okay." Her voice comes out harsher than intended, and she immediately feels sorry.
"But really, if-"
"I'm fine."
Not another word is passed between them the rest of the evening.
November 3rd, Year 1946
America
She runs to find Lucy, who promised she'd meet her at the train station when she came to America. There's no flash of auburn hair in the midst of the blonds and blacks, and she's beginning to lose hope.
"Su! There you are! Sorry I'm late!" Lucy's voice rings out cheerfully behind her, arms waving frantically. She smiles reassuringly, and is carrying a large brown satchel slung hastily over her shoulders.
"What's in the luggage?" She teases, poking Lucy lightly, almost making her tip over with the shift of weight. Lucy stumbles, but is able to right herself immediately.
"That was so mean, Su!" Lucy exclaims indignantly, and she laughs. It's been a year since the two sisters have united, and both are overcome by happiness. Chatter bubbles out of them naturally, as if no time at all has passed.
"So have you been called back?" Lucy whispers, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Susan immediately tenses, her chest aching for the familiar feel of her bow. She shakes her head sadly, looking down at her shoes. Lucy is immediately sympathetic, and comforts her. But Susan shakes her off, saying that it's okay, like she always has. Just like the times Ed and Peter have visited, she pulls on the same mask that has concealed her all these years.
Lucy stares at her with big, inquiring eyes, and Susan just smiles slightly in return.
"You know, I saw Aslan, and he says-"
She's cut off by a sudden gust of wind that blows the papers out of her bag. They scramble to snatch at them, but the strange gust blows them farther and farther. Susan's hair whips at her face, and for a second, she loses sight of Lucy.
But there she is, floating in the air like an angel. Her eyes are wide with panic, arms and legs flailing uselessly in the wild storm. She knows Lucy's screaming her name, but her words are lost in the wind. Susan cries out to Lucy, desperately flinging out her arms towards her. Their fingers interlock, and momentarily, Susan is floating too, hanging by a thread onto Lucy.
"Hang on to me, Lu!" She screams, but Lucy is slipping fast. Their palms separate, then their pinkie finger- their ring finger - then they're only grasping each other by three fingers.
"Lucy!"
"Susan!" They scream together, willing themselves to not let go. But despite their futile efforts, Lucy's middle finger loses grip, then her index. Susan clutches wildly at Lucy's thumb, but they both know it's not enough. The older girl's tears are swept away by the raging wind, and Lucy lets out a small smile before she lets go- and her body is torn apart by the storm. Susan catches a glimpse of her limp body being slammed against the train station ceiling, and she swears the whirlwind has been tinted red.
The wind suddenly stops, and Susan is met with a harsh smack against her back. The hard stone ground digs into her bones, and she chokes out whatever breath she had left. The ground is strangely mossy and warm, and the sun is shining through the trees. Since when did America be so sunny? Susan ponders, before she realizes the full force of the situation.
She's returned to Narnia.
She can't help but grin madly- Lucy should be somewhere closeby! Whenever they were sent to Narnia, they always came together. She scrambles to her feet, and stumbles over rough forest terrain that she's all but forgotten, calling out loudly. She's met with a strange silence. The trees are still, and no familiar bird's song echoes through the forest. It's eerily quiet for Narnia. The last time she had seen this was- she shuddered to remember it -when Aslan disappeared.
"Lu! We're here! I finally made it back! I'm in Narnia, Lu! Don't you have so much to show me? Where were those trees that you said would sing and dance at the same time? What happened to the family of badgers in the deformed stump? Lu, come on! We aren't playing hide-and-seek anymore, you can come out now! Lucy, please- " Susan's voice cracks and dies when she realizes Lucy is no where in sight. Suddenly, she's overcome by a wave of loneliness and immense fear. Never had she ever ventured out in Narnia alone; it was always the four of them together. The Kings and Queens of Old, as the Narnians called them. They could never part, and Narnia needed them together. It was only her now- no bow, ordinary, schoolgirl Susan.
She was alone.
Susan sinks down on her knees on the soft leaves that littered the forest floor, and takes multiple short, ragged breaths. A cold drop on her hand startles her, before many more join it. Her vision is blurry, and it's hard to breathe. A nauseating feeling overcomes her, and she curls up on her side. I'm...crying...? Susan can't remember the last time she's cried, and it's a foreign feeling now. Her dried mouth cracks open as she gasps for breath.
Lucy's gone, and it's my fault.
No one is there to hear the heartbreaking wails that come from Susan's quivering form.
BAM! And Susan is BACK AND READY FOR SOME NARNIAN ACTION! well that was a pretty heartbreaking ending so I had to lighten it up with something I guess...I'll try to update ASAP!
