category: The Chronicles of Narnia
disclaimer: I don't own it.
"No, no! I would never want to hurt you on purpose." Susan looked across the table and forced a smile that felt like plastic on her face. Her attending a party with another boy last night had been an on-the-spot decision, and she certainly didn't think today's date would be so problematic about the whole affair. "I am sorry, but I hope we can move on." A sniff, then, "I don't know if I'd really enjoy being out with someone who stays hung up on a tiny thing. I'm sure I can find some other plans for the evening-"
"Of course not!" The nameless boy waved at a passing waitress. "Bill, please. We'd like to get along now."
Susan smiled genuinely now, eager to be away from the middle-grade restaurant and out to the theater. She had spent the last of her holiday money on this fancy, chic dress, and wanted to get out and show it off. She turned to look at the window, and saw her reflection in the glass and the darkness beyond. She had put on her new lipstick while getting ready earlier today, and was really pleased at how it had turned out. It was the perfect shade of red, deep and incredibly pigmented, but not bright or gaudy.
Her date offered her his arm, and she took it as they stepped off the curb and crossed the main road. It was a moderately long walk to the theater, but it was a warm summer evening, and she didn't mind all too much. The stars were out, and she fully planned to enjoy herself. Noticing that her eyes were pointed to the sky, The Boy jumped at the chance to impress her with his knowledge of astronomy.
"See that one? Almost like an upside-down Y?" He pointed straight up, and they came to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. "It's - "
"The Headless Giant," she breathed. There was an instant where she froze, and wondered where that had come from.
"Uh, I thought it was Perseus."
She straightened and began to pull him down the street. "Of course, I just lost…I was only testing you." She shook her head, almost as if clearing cobwebs from inside. "The Headless Giant, what a laugh!" And still her mind flashed back to a very similar summer's night, in a groomed courtyard, full of fauns, giant mice, and a dozen suitors.
"Susan? Are you all right?" The boy waved his hand in front of her eyes, and she frowned.
"Yes, I'm fine! Am I not allowed to keep to myself and think for one minute?" She wrenched her arm free from his elbow and quickened her pace. No, she wasn't angry, she told herself. She had just remembered a game from long, long ago, and it caught her off guard. "Well? Are you coming?" She flinched at the steel in her voice, and attempted to remind herself that none of it was his fault.
With The Boy scampering in her wake, she managed to make it to the theater in one piece. He bought the tickets, and they went in. It was an old-time silent movie, he whispered to her as the lights were turned down. She moved over to the far end of her seat in response. Whoever he thought he was, this date was not doing her company justice. She didn't know what it was about tonight, but something put her on edge.
Half an hour passed. The movie was all right, but nothing spectacular. The male lead had just performed an energetic dance number, and now he was taking his love interest to her house with his umbrella. Things certainly were simple inside that screen, Susan thought sarcastically. Of course the woman hadn't even thought of the fact that he might be a thief wanting to get inside her lockbox.
They walked in, and she set off making tea for her new friend. He sat, dripping, on her sofa, and entertained himself with her cat. It came closer, and the camera zoomed in on its antics. Then suddenly it faced the camera, and her, completely and opened its mouth wide with an ear-splitting roar. She saw a flash of golden mane, and big knowing eyes, and she dropped her glass soda bottle on the floor.
"Susan!" The Boy whispered frantically as he leapt over. "Did you get hurt?"
"Did-did you h-hear?" Susan took in a deep, shuddering breath. "Did you hear the lion roar?"
He looked baffled. "Susan, it's a silent film. There was no sound. No lion. No roar. Are you catching a fever?"
She pushed his probing hand away and abruptly stood up. "I have to go. I'm so sorry. Please come see me soon, and we can reschedule something." Without waiting for a response, she shoved her ridiculous heeled shoes into her purse and ran out towards home.
Her bare feet pounded on the cobblestones painfully, but she could hardly feel it. The city was alive around her, pumping sound in onto her ears, throbbing with vivacity, but she couldn't see. She was overwhelmed, and angry, and confused, and why now? Everywhere she looked she saw gold and warm fur and rejection and she wanted to cry. Just when Peter had finally accepted England and the real world, and Edmund could eat Turkish Delight without choking, and Lucy looked at their pet cat without crying and trying to imagine a circle of wild mane around its head, and she had set everything right, just then, the whole world came crashing down.
The wind cried into her hair as she ran. Susan, Susan, come home. She pushed the key into the lock of her flat and crumpled against the inside of the door. She didn't understand why tonight was the night that Aslan finally returned to her, after eight whole years. She was sure it was a mockery, a glimpse of what could have been, to be snatched out from under her feet again.
You are no daughter of Aslan, Susan.
Unbidden, a tear rolled down her cheek and down her neck, leaving a damp, salty trail. Don't cry, she willed herself; you've spent enough tears on this already.
You've forgotten the ways of Narnia.
She saw another spark of gold near the radio. But she was too tired. All she wanted to do was lie down on the floor and sleep till another life. She felt a push in the small of her back though, and she stumbled up and over. The dial was broken, but she turned it a few good times, and a news channel jumped to life. Why she had to listen to this was a mystery to her, but she felt a strong presence lingering, tingling like a little electric shock to the tips of her toes.
Nylons, lipstick, and invitations indeed. Where has Queen Susan the Gentle gone?
"This afternoon, a train crash at the London station. No word on how many dead, but seven have been confirmed."
And right then, Susan knew. The radio went silent, and the blood rushed from her face in a scary instant, and she knew. She realized everything that she hadn't been told, and all the knowledge in the world flowed into her head in a moment. She saw a land being consumed in fire and ice, and a golden key locking a door with all the finality possible. Susan had a brief taste of a new country, and a flowing waterfall, and so many people she had ever known, and then everything went black.
Susan cried about many things that night. She grieved at the death of her siblings. She mourned her final loss of innocence. She wept about being left behind. She lamented a happy ending taken away from her. She cursed her lack of belief.
Yes, Susan Pevensie cried about many, many things that night, but smudged lipstick was not one of them.
notes: I know I didn't do Susan justice. I'm not altogether happy with how this turned out, but it's a start. I hope to write a lot more of Susan and the other Pevensies in the future, and hopefully by then I'll be able to give them the proper writing they deserve.