My Rock and My Fortress
by Lirulin

Disclaimer: As always nothing belongs to me, everything is property of C. S. Lewis, and I also do not make any money with this.

This is something quite different for me, as I have never written from Susan's POV before. But it has been in my head for some time now, and I'm curious how you will like it.

Susan is about 18 in it, and Edmund about 16.

I did not even remember why I had gone to the stupid dance. Katherine had begged and prodded for so long that I had finally said yes just to shut her up. She had assured me repeatedly that we would have so much fun, that there were so many nice people I absolutely had to meet, and after a while I had even begun to believe her a bit. Annabelle had said she would come too, so we would most likely have a nice evening at least, and I had planned to spend the night at Katherine's house. How was I supposed to know it would end in a complete disaster, with me now creeping into my own home like a thief at three o'clock in the night?

But I could not stay with Katherine after everything that had happened, I only wanted to get into my own bed and forget the whole evening. I opened the front door as quietly as possible because while the bedrooms were all on the upper floor, you could never be too careful. Peter was home from university for the holidays, and he heard every unusual creak, even when he was fast asleep, and I wanted to prevent a confrontation with him at all costs. I could not bear his disappointed and at the same times pitying looks any longer, and I sometimes resented him for them. What right did he have to tell me how I should act, what I should feel, what I should believe in? I knew very well what I needed and what was good for me, and my big brother could just keep his strange notions to himself and away from me.

I passed through the hallway without turning on the light and had almost reached the stairs when a voice floated towards me from the living room.

"Susan? Is that you?"

It was Edmund. I froze in my tracks, cursing my absolutely rotten luck, and contemplated for a second whether I could pretend I had not heard him, but that would obviously not work. He had recognised my steps, and now that they had fallen silent he had to know that I had become aware of him. So I sighed in resignation and stepped into the living room where Edmund was sitting on the sofa with a book in his hands, the only light coming from a candle he had put on the table next to it. I looked at him for a long moment, taking in everything from his rumpled hair to his inquisitive gaze and his bare feet that he had curled up under himself, and something stirred in me. A picture flashed through my mind of a spacious room with a big fireplace and a large four-poster bed with red drapes, Edmund sitting propped up among a mound of pillows. I pushed it away impatiently, I did not have time for fanciful imageries, and instead focused on the Edmund that was sitting in front of me.

"Why are you not in bed? It is the middle of the night."

His eyebrow lifted in what I thought was a rather sardonic manner, and I flushed lightly, hearing the irony in my own words. I was really one to talk, seeing how I had returned just now. He uncurled himself then, putting his feet back onto the floor and patting the seat next to himself.

"I could not sleep and thought I could as well read as lie around stupidly. And you? Didn't you want to stay at… what's her name… Katherine's?"

I did not want to go over to him, did not want to answer his question, but there was something so honestly curious in his gaze that my feet were moving towards him before I was entirely conscious of it. And if I was completely truthful with myself, I perhaps did not wish to be alone after all. The events of the evening had shaken me more than I wanted to admit or could even articulate to myself, and a part of me feared what I would see when I closed my eyes. I shook my head to dispel these gloomy thoughts and sank down onto the sofa next to my little brother. He turned sideways to see me better, and there was a sudden gasp from him. I averted my head slightly as I could guess what he had spotted in the light of the candle now falling on me.

"Susan! Lio... Goodness, what happened?"

His hand touched my cheek in the gentlest caress I had felt in a long time, turning my face back towards him so that I was forced to look into his dark eyes that were blazing fiercely with shock and anger. Tears rushed to my eyes, and I knew I would not be able to uphold the mask I usually wore, would not be able to laugh it off or pass over it flippantly. There was a crack in the mask, and it widened when Edmund's second hand came up, settling on my other cheek. But still I could not speak as he continued to stroke my face, and his gaze turned pleading.

"Susan, please! Who did this to you? Tell me who it was, so that I can go out there and teach him that no one hurts my sister!"

Something inside me broke at his words, and I hid my face in my hands as my tears started to fall. I could not cope with the emotions that were running rampant inside me, the fear that was still gripping me, the dismay about something I had never believed would happen to me, and the hurt that someone I had liked would treat me so. I had been so confident that I was a good judge of character, that I knew how to handle my beaus, and it was almost unbearable to realise that I had obviously been wrong. I started trembling as all of it came crashing down on me, mixing with a great amount of shame that Edmund was seeing me like this. Edmund, who was even then putting his arms around me, drawing me close to him and murmuring soft nonsense words. Edmund, who I had snapped at only yesterday, and who was now expending every effort to comfort me. My dear little brother, who would protect me with everything he was and would not hesitate a second in challenging the one who had hurt me. I collapsed against him, burying my head in his chest and not caring about the sobs that were wracking my frame. I just wanted the ache to go away, wanted to turn back the time so that everything could go back to normal. But that was impossible, so instead I clung to Edmund, letting his calm presence and soothing words envelop me.

I did not know how long he held me, from time to time pressing light kisses to my head, until my tears ceased to fall and my sobs dwindled away to an occasional hiccough. Although there was still something raw inside me, like an open wound, I yet felt a bit better, and at least some of the pain had been washed away so that I could attempt to tell him what had occurred, for I knew that I needed to speak with someone.

"Edmund, I… I was so stupid. I really thought he was so nice. He was charming and polite, and I… I guess I should have listened to Annabelle. She did not like him from the beginning."

Edmund's grip on me tightened almost imperceptibly for a second before he went back to rubbing circles on my back. I could not imagine what he was thinking at the moment, but it was probably not anything good.

"Who? Su, please! You're scaring me! What happened?"

I took a deep breath, trying to still my wildly beating heart, and steeled myself to recount the evening I had just experienced. It would not be easy, but I thought I owed as much to Edmund for what he had already done for me.

"I am talking about Bob… Robert Brown. I think I mentioned him in passing once or twice, I met him at Laura's birthday party a month or so ago. He was there tonight as well, and it was really nice at first. We danced a few times, and we talked, and we laughed, but then… Oh, Ed! This is so embarrassing!"

I did definitely not feel comfortable discussing this with my brother, but Edmund would not be Edmund if he let that deter him. He carded one of his hands through my hair tenderly and then jostled me lightly until I looked up at him. The expression in his eyes was so affectionate and loving that it nearly took my breath away.

"It's me, Su! There's nothing to be ashamed of, and there's nothing that would ever make me hold you in any less regard."

I put my head back on his chest, unable to cope directly with the undisguised feeling of tenderness he was showing me, and instead took his hand in my own, attempting to let him know in this way how much I appreciated his sentiments.

"Alright. So, the room was really stuffy, and he asked me if I wanted to step out for a moment. I did not think anything of it, but as soon as we were outside, he tried… he tried to kiss me. I did not want to. I liked him, and he was nice, but I just did not think it was right, so I pushed him away. He got very angry then and started yelling at me, saying I should not be so prudish. I told him that he could not speak to me like this and that I would return inside now if he could not act as a gentleman, and then… He… he slapped me. I could not even react. Luckily Annabelle came out at that moment and saw what was going on, and she hit him right back without even thinking about it. I was… I was so shocked, Eddy! I could not believe it, I still cannot! No one has ever…"

My voice was breaking, and I had to stop. I did not want to start crying again. Edmund had gone very still, and I pushed myself away from him slightly to see what was going on. I actually recoiled a bit at the look on his face, it could not be described as anything other than fearsome. For a strange second I irrationally wondered where his sword and shield were because they seemed to be the only things missing before he went into battle. But this was of course nonsense, he was no warrior, no matter how much he wanted to be my protector. He turned his serious eyes to me, once again lifting his hand to caress my cheek lightly.

"Tell me where I can find him, Susan. I will not let him get away with this! I will not allow him to hit you! Wait! Are you hurt anywhere else?"

A warm feeling spread through me at his concern and his willingness to defend me, covering my pain and confusion, and for the first time since I had stepped out of that door I was calm again. And I felt safe because I knew that Edmund would never let anything happen to me if he could help it.

"No, I am not injured anywhere. Even my cheek does not hurt anymore. But… I could not stay at Katherine's. I was so agitated and… and shocked, and I only wanted to go home. And he did not get away. As I told you, Annabelle hit him, and quite hard at that, and I told him in no uncertain terms never to come near me again. So I will not tell you where to find him. It is just… how could I have been so wrong in my judgement? Why did I not see it?"

He was clearly not happy with my refusal to tell him where he might find Bob, but I really did not want him to pursue this further. My wish was to put the whole matter to rest and to forget it as quickly as possible, and I was glad when Edmund decided not to push me, instead drawing me against his side again and remaining in silence for a while. I had to admit that it felt good after the hustle and bustle of the dance and my later fear and disbelief. I had not been that in tune with myself for a long time, and I also relished the closeness between me and Edmund which had somehow been missing in the preceding months. Eventually, my brother sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead.

"It is not your fault, Su. How could you have seen it if he was as charming as you said he was? I'm only… I am so, so sorry that this happened to you, and that I cannot be of more help. I wish I could take your pain away."

I had to smile at this, it was so typical of him. He would probably take on anyone's burdens if he could. I leaned up to kiss his cheek before settling my head on his shoulder again, contemplating that it was surprising how much better I already felt, seeing as I had done nothing more than cry and tell my story. Perhaps I had once again underestimated the importance of someone simply being there…

"You did help me, a lot, and I am very grateful for it. Do you know, it was not even so much the pain as the shock. No one ever dared to raise his hand against me, not even…"

I broke off as my thoughts tumbled over each other in confusion. Was I gone so far that I was now mixing up fantasy and reality? But it felt so real! Edmund seemed to be curious as well, I could hear it in his voice.

"Not even… who? What did you want to say?"

I was so tired by then that I simply let go. Let go of the tight hold I usually kept on this part of my thoughts and emotions and let them do what they wanted. For the moment I did not care where they might lead me.

"I wanted to say not even Rabadash acted like this."

Edmund stiffened for a second before some kind of tension left him, and I noticed that the hand stroking my arm was shaking slightly. I did not know what could possibly be wrong with him, but chose not to dwell on it as his whispered words reached my ear.

"Do you remember how we fled on our ship?"

Images rose before my mind's eye. Edmund standing at the prow of a proud ship, looking stern and anxious at the same time. A blonde-haired boy with his gaze lowered contritely, telling me he only did it to defend my honour. It was strange, yet so familiar, and I closed my eyes, allowing this feeling of… of home to wash over me, pushing rationality aside.

"Yes, the… Splendour Hyaline."

He was still stroking my arm, and it was so soothing that it nearly put me to sleep.

"And… do you remember Cair Paravel? How we used to decorate it for Christmas? You always had to choose the tree personally…"

A smile spread over my face as I saw a great hall decorated with garlands of holly and ivy, interspersed with glittering red baubles and a tree resplendent with tinsel and glittering in the candle light.

"You knocked it down one year…"

He chuckled quietly, and I wondered vaguely why my voice was sounding so slurred, not realising that I was nearer to sleep than to waking.

"Yes, I did. You were so angry with me. And do you… do you remember Queen Susan the Gentle?"

His voice had been so quiet that I barely heard it, but it was there, in the room and in my heart. Words were reaching me, as if from very far away. To the radiant Southern sun I give you Queen Susan, the Gentle. I did not know who spoke them, but they touched something deep inside me, something I had not even known was still there. A magnificent castle rose before my eyes, gleaming white in the rays of an early morning sun. Then there was a throne, and someone was sitting on it, someone in royal garments and with a crown made of golden daffodils on her head. And I recognised myself. I could not speak, could only nod my head slightly, but was then faintly startled by the imploration in Edmund's voice.

"Oh Susan! And… and Aslan?"

A roar echoed through my being, and I jerked upward as the shutters closed down in my mind. I shook my head resolutely, dispelling the last of the fantastical images from my head and telling myself firmly that they had only been induced by the shock I had suffered this evening and had been a product of my wish to forget it all and to feel safe. I was a bit angry with Edmund for bringing up our childhood games once again, but then I remembered how tenderly he had just taken care of me, letting me cry and simply being there, and my anger abated immediately. It did not matter anyway, perhaps he had thought it would help me to remind me of the happy times we had had at the professor's house. I smoothed down my skirt, not looking at him until I had regained my composure, and then gave him a warm smile.

"Thank you so much, Edmund. You cannot know how much it has helped me that I could talk to you. I am really feeling so much better now. But I do think we should both go to bed. It is nearly morning already, and we still need some sleep."

There was something so painful in his gaze that I had to turn away from it, but I could not – did not want to if I was being honest – prevent him from taking my hand and pressing an almost reverent kiss on it.

"Susan, I… I am glad if I could be of help to you. You know I am always here when you need me. Always."

The emotions behind this simple statement were almost overwhelming, and I shied away from them, afraid of what would happen if I embraced them fully. So instead I picked up the book that Edmund had been reading when I had come in, trying to distract myself from what I did not want to feel. I was astonished to see that it was a Bible, I had never taken him to be a religious person, and regarded him questioningly as I handed it to him. A smile lit up his face, a smile so full of something I could not name, but which stirred a longing in me that scared me. I did not want this, did not want to long for something that was unreachable, that was not there, and I barely listened to his words, so full of conviction.

"I found something in it, Su. Something I had been searching for a long time. I hope you will find it soon as well."

I nodded distractedly, thinking that I definitely needed to get to bed now as the lack of sleep was quite clearly beginning to make me irrational. I kissed Edmund's cheek again in thanks, then got up from the sofa and made my way to the door.

"Well, good night Edmund. And thank you again."

I had already left the room and was about to head to the stairs when his voice reached me once more.

"I love you, Susan."

I did not answer him however and retreated to my room silently, falling asleep almost as soon as I lay down, unconsciously locking his words away in a deep corner of my heart.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Mummy, Mummy! Steven has taken Betsy and won't give her back to me!"

I am flung out of my memories rather abruptly and whirl around to see my little daughter running into the room, her big brother hot on her heels.

"Emily broke one of my cars!"

It takes me a moment to orient myself and to realise that I am not in Finchley, but in our house in Luton, and it causes a stab of pain to rush through me. But Emily and Steven are standing in front of me expectantly, and I have to gather my thoughts.

"Steven, return your sister's doll to her. And Emily, you know you are supposed to be careful when you play with your brother's toys."

Steven still looks a bit mutinous, but does as he is told, and I am glad that it does not seem to turn into a bigger fight. I really would not want to deal with one at the moment. Emily has turned around again, happy to have her Betsy back, but my son is more perceptive and peers up at me curiously.

"Mum? Are you crying?"

My hand flies to my cheek, and I am surprised to find that it is indeed wet with tears. I had not noticed them at all. I try to compose myself, but I know it is in vain. Now that he has seen them, Steven will want to know why I am crying. He is only nine, but already his protective streak is very pronounced. Sometimes he reminds me of Peter so much…

Emily has also returned to my side, hugging my legs.

"Are you sad, Mummy?"

I shake my head, but I know I am not very convincing. The memories are still so close to the surface, and I can see that Steven does not believe me.

"No, it is alright, Sweetheart. I only had to think about something that was a bit sad. But I am not sad now."

It seems to be enough for Emily, who relaxes, but Steven still looks puzzled and finally glances at my hand.

"Is that Uncle Edmund's Bible, Mum?"

I look down in surprise, I had forgotten I was still holding it and now press it to my heart. It had fallen into my hands while I was tidying up the living room, and it had triggered the memory almost instantly. I take the few steps to the sofa and sit down on it, placing the Bible in my lap and stroking the cover lightly while Emily scrambles up beside me and snuggles up against my side.

"When are we going to visit Uncle Edmund again, Mummy? I drew a picture of him and Uncle Peter from when you told me how they were knights, and I want to give it to them."

New tears flood my eyes, and I have to breathe slowly to keep them at bay. It touches me so deeply that both of them have formed such a… a bond to their uncles and their aunt, even though they never met them and only know them from old photographs and my stories. Perhaps this is one thing that I have done right.

"We can try to go to the cemetery tomorrow, Darling. I am sure they would be very happy about your picture."

She beams up at me, and I manage to give her a small smile in return, although I suspect it is rather tremulous. Steven has not said a word, but now comes over to kiss my cheek before holding out a hand to Emily.

"Come on, Emy. Let's go back upstairs. If you promise to be careful, you can even play with my train set."

Emily laughs happily and jumps off the sofa, grabbing her brother's hand and swinging it backwards and forwards while he looks at me a bit uncertainly. I put one of my hands on his cheek, hoping to reassure him, and try to steady my voice.

"Go on, Dear. I will be alright."

He nods, and they leave the room together, Emily chattering about Betsy's antics while Steven listens more or less patiently, their earlier fight completely forgotten.

Finally I am alone again, and my gaze wanders back to the Bible in my lap. Tears blur my vision, and I do not even make the effort to brush them away. It has been fifteen years. Fifteen years since I lost my whole family, but there are days when it feels as if it happened just now. Like today, when Edmund's face is as clearly before me as if he left the room only a minute ago, when his words ring in my ears. I was so stupid. How could I not see that they were trying everything to reach me, to love me? I pushed them away, I ignored them for false friends and meaningless parties. Sometimes I feel so guilty for how I treated them, for all the harsh words I flung at them and the hurt I caused them. The worst thing is that I never had the chance to tell them how sorry I am, how much I regret all that I did.

I open the Bible at random, and my eyes fall on a verse that Edmund has underlined and flagged with an exclamation mark. The Lord is thy keeper; the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand. I have to smile through my sadness. I would never have thought that the Bible would one day become my primary source of comfort and support, but that is how it is. Once again I hear his words from that night, the only night my guard was down so far that I could allow thoughts of Narnia.

I found something in it, Su. Something I had been searching for a long time.

I want to tell him that I found it too, finally, but it is too late. Had I but listened to him then! If I had only listened to his pleading words, perhaps I might have spared myself the agony and sorrow I had to go through until I found my way back to Him at last. Sometimes I am still astonished that He waited so long and so patiently for me.

I flip through the pages a bit more and stop at another verse that has obviously been important to Edmund as well if his notes next to it are any indication. There, in his neat handwriting, I can read: We cannot reach Him by ourselves, everything is by His grace. And one name, with a question mark next to it: Susan? He thought about me when he was reading it, and the thought never fails to evoke a bittersweet feeling of love and grief in me. The verse itself has become one of my many favourites as well, and it almost seems to be an answer to my previous thought.

I have loved thee with an everlasting love; therefore with loving kindness have I drawn thee to me.

I had been running away for so long, trying to smother my longing under a constant stream of diversions and amusements, but He never let go of me and drew me back to Him in the end. I caress the words on the page and wonder what Edmund would say if he knew that his Bible is now one of my most treasured possessions. I found truth in it… and redemption. And when I look at Edmund's underlinings and read his annotations, it feels as if he is still here with me. Sometimes, when I miss all of them so much that it is like a physical ache, it helps me to imagine him with the Bible in his hands, studying it intently and marking what is important to him.

Is it not ironical that I only rediscovered Narnia once I had lost everyone that had been connected to it? That I only found Aslan in our world when there was no one there anymore to share it with? I wonder occasionally what would have happened if I had listened to my siblings, had not shut the knowledge of who I had been away in the deepest recesses of my soul. But then I am always reminded of what Aslan would say, that no one ever learns what might have been.

Still I wish. I wish for so many things. I wish I had told my little brother that night almost eighteen years ago that I loved him, too. I wish I had not rejected Peter's every attempt to talk to me, had not scoffed at his well-meaning advice. I know now that he only wanted to protect me, and I hurt him so often with my careless remarks. And I wish I had spent more time with Lucy, listening to her, rather than trying to mould her into what I thought a 'lady' should be like. I know of course that it is futile and that I cannot change anything, but there are days when I cannot help myself. They have left a void in my life that I am sure nothing will ever be able to fill.

So I attempt to keep them in my mind and in my heart by talking about them, by telling Steven and Emily stories about their uncles and their aunt, about Narnia, recounting all the memories that have returned to me. It is almost strange how much I can recall now, from the time Edmund broke his arm in the tournament on Galma right down to the dress Lucy was wearing for her eighteenth birthday celebration, and I can only assume that Aslan restored the memories to me as a form of solace.

I brush my tears away and let my gaze wander through the room until it comes to rest on the picture frame that is standing on the bookshelf. It holds a picture of the four of us, taken in the professor's garden after we had returned from Narnia for the first time which portrays us how I best like to remember us. Peter is standing in the middle, one of his arms around Edmund's shoulders, the other around my waist. Lucy is in front of him, leaning against his chest and both Edmund and I have put one of our hands on her shoulders. We look like we belong together, like we are a complete unity, knowing each other inside out and trusting one another implicitly. It pains me so much that I allowed us to drift apart because I wanted to prove that I could be strong, that I could live in this world alone.

However, despite the pain I can now also smile when I think about the wonderful times we all had together. These memories are treasures that I never want to lose. Sometimes, I also imagine what they would be like now which is not hard at all because I saw them grow up once, and in a manner this is a true relief. And after these fifteen years, I can finally say that I am thankful to Him that He blessed me with Peter, Edmund and Lucy as my siblings. There have been times that I raged at Him, at the world, at everything, asking Him why He gave me such wonderful siblings only to take them away from me again. But I have learned that nothing happens without His knowledge, and that He has always a plan, even with me. Perhaps I had to stay here so that I could tell my children about Narnia and teach them Aslan's name in our world.

I snap Edmund's Bible shut and place my hand on it before I close my eyes and concentrate on letting go of the sadness and looking towards Him instead. He is now my anchor and my shield, and I know that with Him at my side, I will never be alone.

And faintly, as if from very far, I hear a once again well-known and dearly beloved voice echoing in my soul:

It is well done, my Daughter.

The End

The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit. – Psalm 34,18

I'd love to hear your thoughts as this has been something very new to me!