Susan's Journey By manwathielmelda
Characters: Susan Pevensie, Henry
Summary: What really happens to Susan after The Last Battle?
Susan felt more alone than she had ever felt before. Her siblings, although she had not been close to them in years, had been killed recently in a railway accident. Her parents were killed in the same accident, and Susan was totally alone in the world. There was no one to left in her family, and even her cousin had died.
She was a young woman now, no longer a child. She was twenty-one years old, and had drifted away from her family and childhood memories. She had always been the more logical one of the four children, although some seemed to think she had become silly over the years. She had not; she just stopped believing in the fairy tales in which her siblings believed.
Although she had not been close to her siblings in a long time, she still missed them. She missed knowing they were around somewhere if she needed them. Peter had always been bossy, even though he was only one year old than she was. Edmund had been annoying, until they visited Narnia, where he almost died. Lucy was the baby and the one who believed in Narnia with her entire heart. Susan, on the other hand, had enjoyed Narnia while it lasted, but she was never completely into the whole "other world" thing like her siblings had been.
"I miss them," she whispered to herself. "Although I never really liked going to that other world. And it wasn't really real. It was all pretend. Just a funny game we played as children. Nothing but a memory. And I don't care.
"I wonder if Pauline is going to have that party some of the others were talking about. And I wonder if she'll invite me." She gasped, excited at the thought that came to mind. "Will Henry escort me?" She had been seeing a young man for a few months now, and she was sure her parents would approve, not that it mattered anymore because they were dead. But it was slightly comforting to think that they would approve of Henry. She was pleased with the young man who had been there to escort her to the social functions; she was sure she wanted to married him.
She heard a knock on the door and opened it. The man outside handed her a parchment and left. Susan opened the letter and smiled. It was the invitation to Pauline's party. There was another knock on the door, and she opened it, a huge smile on her face. It was Henry.
"My dearest Susan," he said with a bow. "May I have the honor of escorting you to Pauline's party tomorrow night?" he asked.
"Of course, Henry," she replied, a slight giggle escaping her. "You may have that honor. There is no one with whom I would rather go."
"I'm so glad, because I already told Pauline we would be coming together," he said, a sheepish grin on his face. He looked like he wanted to say something but did not know how to say it.
"Just say it, Henry," Susan said. She hated it when he would not tell her what he was thinking about, especially when she knew it was something important.
"Susan, you heard about the huge railroad crash that was in the paper, didn't you?" Henry asked tentatively. Normally Susan refused to talk about it.
"Yes…" she said slowly. "What about it?" Her voice nervous, she looked fearful of what he might say.
"You told me that your parents recently died," Henry said. "How did they die? You won't talk about it at all."
"I know I don't talk about it. It still hurts. They were on the train, along with my sister and brothers. My cousin and one of his friends was there too. They were… all killed that day." Susan stopped and tried to keep the tears from falling.
"It's okay, Susan," Henry said, gently wrapping her into a hug. "I know it still hurts. Were you close to your siblings?"
Susan paused, thinking back over the years. It had been a long time since they really talked, and she knew most of it was her fault. She was the one who had grown away from her family.
"We used to be close," she said slowly. "We used to have fun together." Susan's eyes widen at a memory that flashed through her brain.
The two girls were trying on dresses by the edge of the water.
"Mum hasn't had a dress like this since before the war," Susan said, loving the feel of the beautiful dress on her.
"We should take her back some! A whole trunkful!" Lucy exclaimed, her voice happy.
"If we ever get back," Susan replied. She looked at her sister, who was looking sad. "I'm sorry. We used to have fun together, didn't we?"
"Yes. Before you got boring," Lucy smiled.
"Oh really?" Susan said, a mischievous grin on her face. She reached down and splashed Lucy. The two girls laughed, splashing each other.
Susan frowned on the memory. She did not want to think about her siblings or her family. She was hurting enough just thinking she was alone.
"I won't think of that," she muttered to herself, momentarily forgetting Henry. In her heart of hearts, she wanted to believe.
"You won't think of what, dearest?" Henry asked, bringing the young woman back to the present.
"Nothing," Susan replied, not ready to tell Henry her thoughts. She was afraid he would laugh at her if she told him about the games they used to play as children, the ones about Narnia. She remembered the men that had proposed to her there, Rabadash in particular. She knew she was beautiful; she always had been, but nothing could have prepared her for the attention she had gotten in Narnia.
"Tell me what is on your mind, beautiful," Henry said, taking her hand. "I want to know your secrets, your dreams, your fears." Susan did not answer. She did not want to tell Henry her fears or secrets.
"Must I, Henry, darling? Hadn't those be better left for another time?" she asked. "I'd really rather hear about your dreams."
"I cannot tell you my dreams right now, dearest," Henry answered. "But you would make me the happiest man if you would attend church with me this Sunday." Susan paused.
"But I do not go to church," she replied.
"I know you do not. But I thought you might want to go with me, because you love me," he said, smiling that smile. She blushed. He was right. She did love him. But she had not been to church since she was a young girl. It had been many years.
"I suppose I might," she said, after thinking it over.