AN: I wrote this, mostly by accident, last December while betaing Laura Andrews's "My Dear Sister." It's a very different version of Susan than the one I usually write/believe, more in the tradition of a fic I once read (and I cannot find it at the moment) in which Narnia really was a children's game, and Susan had the stories recorded as a way of honoring her siblings.

I'm not sure where Lucy is or what she's doing. None of the references mean anything in my larger 'verse, except Aunt Trudy. Her story is a bit long, and the reason Susan doesn't remember her is that she's Eustace's great-aunt and not really related to the Pevensies, but in her old age she told stories of her adventures with cannibals in Australia.

Entirely unbetaed, so all errors and mistakes and oddness is mine. The characters aren't. Not even Aunt Trudy.


Dearest Lucy,

Truly, sister, I did not mean to upset you! Of course I remember Narnia—it really was delightful, wasn't it? I always thought it nicer than most children's imaginary countries. And how could I forget the Lion when he was such a comfort to us in those long months away from Mother and Dad? I think it is you who has forgotten, Lucy.

Did we not agree, a year later (you must remember—we were in the train station, of all places, and you were starting your first year at boarding school) that Peter and I were really too old to play Narnia any more, and that perhaps it was time to think more about growing up and living here, in this world? Of course, I was sad to leave that part of our childhood behind, but it was the right thing to do, and there are so many new and exciting things in life that I can't be down about it long.

I don't quite remember, Lucy, but a year after that, didn't you and Edmund come to the same agreement about Narnia? I think you told me it was while you were staying at cousin Eustace's, the summer I was in America. (I'm glad you spent that summer with him. You were a good influence on him—and even Dad notices how different he is now.)

Don't worry about my memory, Lu. I will always fondly remember those days at the Professor's, when we were Kings and Queens. Those were grand and glorious days. It seemed that when we turned our backs, the very trees would dance around us; that we could hear the animals talking, if only we listened hard enough. Sometimes I wish we could all go back and live those days over again. I know we can't. As you used to say, nothing ever happens the same way twice.

I apologize for calling you afraid of growing up. You have never been afraid of anything, Lucy dear, and I know it. There was a reason our Narnians called you Queen Lucy the Valiant. Do you remember the time we met the Bear in the woods, that day when we were out berrying, and you just stood still and let it sniff you? I was too scared to fire my homemade arrow at it, but somehow you knew that it was full of berries and didn't mean any harm.

You will always be valiant, sister. I know you are not afraid of growing up. You were the first of us to see Narnia, and there is nothing wrong with remembering it and treasuring those memories. You needn't forget it, but do remember that nothing ever happens the same way twice, and it's time for us to live here. The trees don't dance here, and the animals don't talk, but I'm certain you will always find plenty of adventures to satisfy your courageous heart, just as you are doing now.

Peter sends his love to his "favorite baby sister," but will probably not write himself.

Edmund wants to know what you think of The Scarlet Letter,but will probably write himself.

Mother misses you, as do we all, but she is writing daily, so you know that already.

Father is grouchy and wants to know when you will come home.

Eustace wants to know if airplanes are as much fun as flying on a dragon's back. He is still madly researching pre-deluvian creatures with names ending in -saurus, and he says Aunt Trudy sends her greetings. I hope you know who Aunt Trudy is, as I don't remember having one.

All our love to you,

Susan