Remember the Kings and Queens
Dear Susan,
Right now, you have just left the room, leaving Edmund shocked with your words. You won't listen to any of us anymore, even when we are talking about the utmost mundane things like colour of the drapes for the living room. I'm keeping this with my other letters… I don't know if you'll ever see this.
You've stopped believing in Narnia, Susan. You found refuge in lipstick and dresses and gossip. These parties pale in comparison to the beautiful balls you threw in Cair Paravel. It is your choice to go to these places, as Edmund said to us quietly, repeatedly. But why can't you see it's not right? It's not the world we belong in, Susan; we're Kings and Queens of Narnia. You've thrown yourself in a high-flying society, yes, of backstabbing, shallow beauty, lust and untruths. Why do you not see that?
We were made for so much more, Susan.
Please, just remember for one night. That night, so long ago, when your hair was thick and long, and summer lent its flowers to adorn our manes? You took up your bow, and you and Peter went to the forest just for a few hours of time to yourselves. There was a wild beaste, lost and savage from the harsh lands miles yonder. It stood poised to attack Peter, in that one moment he closed his eyes, and your arrow shot true. You saved a life, Susan, the High King's life. Your brother's life! Why do you choose to forget your gentle, noble, pure actions in exchange for memories of drunkenness, men hiding behind false faces, and women who spite you just because?
You protected Edmund in the castle, almost as fiercely as Peter protects him on the battlegrounds. He needs neither – he is the best swordsmen in the surrounding lands, with a wit sharp enough to counter any cunningness. Do you recall him always being ill during the winter periods? Oh, he would make a racket with his coughs and his fever alarmed Healers so much that they took a guest room in the palace. Those were awful days. Narnians would remember the Hundred Years of winter, Peter would be beside himself in worry, and you were brilliant. You organised the Healers, made sure Peter never neglected his Kingship duties, and even found time to arrange the Magnificent Christmas Ball, one that would be talked about for months afterwards! Your determined ways suit a Queen, a gentle authority everyone respected and followed, and not serving small advice from so-called acquaintances on the colour of their shoes to match their dress. Please, Susan, you kept us strong in times we couldn't be. Don't push us away.
We love you.
Edmund says you will come back to Aslan when you are ready to. Peter knows that no matter how much you immerse yourself in the ugly glamour, you will always be a Queen to him.
I'm here, Susan. I'll always wait for you. I miss the times we shared, playing by the river and streams in Narnia, with the water nymphs, caring for the little foaling, or at archery practice, or embroidering our gowns. One day you will remember when I was young, in Narnia years, you took my crown cast on the throne, a few weeks after our coronation. I didn't want it, it was too heavy and it slipped down my hair sometimes. "What kind of Queen am I?" I had said, remembering childish fantasies of perfect princesses. You smiled at me and placed the crown gently on my head. "You are a Queen now, Lucy," you said, words spoken from your heart. "Just by being you. You will always be a Queen now. Remember that."
Please, Susan.
Remember too.
Come back.
With love,
Lucy Pevensie
A shaky hand found the fountain pen lying amidst pieces of paper. Tears in her eyes made it hard to see, and when the words Narnia and Aslan jumped at her when she scanned through them, they splashed onto her pale cheeks. The rouge had been long washed away, at the funerals that morning.
When she finished writing, she was crying hard. It would take hours to pack away her sister's room, before moving on to her brother's room. Still, she sat at the desk, where a brown-haired girl penned down decades worth of memories, memories of love and sorrow, which she had banished cruelly as childish imagination.
Remember too.
Come back.
With love,
Lucy Pevensie
Dear Lucy,
Many people came today. To see you, Edmund and Peter. They only had good things to say. They said, not to worry, you are safe and happy.
I wish you, Edmund and Peter would come back. But now, I wish I came back sooner.
I want to tell you.
I remember. I always did, inside.
I love you all. I'm so sorry.
Susan
A/N: First Narnia fic, pls review.