Disclaimer: I don't own Narnia or any characters you may recognize from the books or the movies, I wish I did but I don't... The title and inspiration for this oneshot comes from She Walked Away by BarlowGirls.

Summary: She walked away, but not for the reasons they assumed...

She Walked Away

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September 19, 1943

Not again. I simply couldn't take it anymore. It was all they ever talked about now. We weren't there anymore, we couldn't even hope to go back anymore. We needed to focus on the here and now. Why didn't they see that? Why did they cling to our past so tightly?

I took a breath as I turned to face my siblings, who were all waiting for me to laugh and reminisce with them. Aslan forgive me, but I just can't do it anymore. I can't cling to the past anymore. I have to cut the strings so I can live in this world, in England, without feeling like a poor ghost.

Aslan forgive me. I turned and smiled that little smile I once used on obnoxious suitors like Rabadash. "Oh, are you still playing that silly little game?"

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September 19, 1945

I stared at the mirror, carefully applying my lipstick. It was a woman's duty to look her absolute best, especially during a war. That is what my mother had hounded me with the entire time I had initially resisted letting her turn me into the pretty porcelain doll she wanted at least one of her daughters to be, for Lucy would never allow herself to be anything less than the Valiant Queen nor be content with what our mother believed was our proper role in life. Our father was discharged from the army in 1943 after being wounded in the Second Battle of El Alamein and more pressure was put on me to be the good daughter... Moreover, when I saw the confusion and no small amount of hurt our dear parents suffered at how we four acted, for how were they to know that we were really grown men and women...Kings and Queens, my compassion stirred and I conceded. I became their comfort by being the "normal one" though it broke my heart to see how my dearest siblings questioned my motives, my love for Narnia, our people, and Aslan.

I sighed a little as I checked to make sure my nylons were straight. Oh, how it did bother me when my parents treated me as little more than a pretty face. For once, I had been valued not simply for my beauty, but for my voice and counsel and, yes, wisdom. I had been valued for being the Gentle Queen and at times the Archer Queen. I had been valued for all of me, not just my face. Oh Aslan, how I did miss that feeling! Nevertheless, I cannot dwell on it overmuch because then I do not set my face forward as I should.

I checked my hair once more, and then slowly exited the washroom. I was going out to a dinner and a dance with the son of one of Father's professor friends at the university. As the son of the professor of social economics, I hoped he was more interesting than the son of the professor of anthropology was, that boy hadn't had a single original thought in his head. I paused at the head of the stairs when I heard their voices...oh no, I had forgotten the Friends were meeting today. It was always harder to maintain the façade of forgetting when they were around because I wanted to say something that would put two particular Friends in their place. I took a breath and prayed for patience then I put on a carefree smile and sedately made my way down the stairs.

They hushed as soon as they heard me. I forced myself to smile a little brighter, pretending not to see three looks of disappointment, two looks of cautious indifference, and two looks of judgmental disapproval. "Hello, darlings, having a lovely tea, are we?" Edmund grimaced and I hid a laugh...he's thirty-one years of age and he still barely tolerates tea, he's probably drinking coffee instead.

Lucy shot a glance at Peter then her gaze flickered to Polly and Jill before she turned to me with such hope in her blue eyes. "Susan, might you join us? We could catch up with each other and share stories like we used to do. We all want you to join us tonight." Lucy didn't see, but I caught the faint grimaces exchanged between Polly and Jill...so not all of them wanted me to join.

For a moment, though, as Lucy gazed at me with such hope and pleading, I seriously considered breaking the charade and spending the evening with them. But, then I remembered what I had already promised our parents I would do. "I'm sorry, dear, I have a previous engagement." Jill made a faint sound of disgust, which I ignored as I tried not to cave completely as I watched Lucy deflate. It was so hard to remember at times that she was twenty-eight and not thirteen...but I did remember.

Peter stood, ever the protector, though he had become almost suffocating by accident as I was torn between obeying him and obeying our parents...Oh Aslan, I could not please both Peter and our parents, but our parents needed me more. He gave that sad look I hated before he questioned, not asked, questioned with the expectation of being answered, "Where are you going?"

I touched my hair to hide my sudden urge to beseech His Majesty's forgiveness and forced my tone to be carefree as I replied, "Oh, out to dinner and then a dance."

A flash of disappointment in my "choice" appeared in Peter's eyes. "And, who is taking you tonight?"

I froze for a split second as I drew a blank on the son's actual name, "Um, Tommy, no, sorry, it's Timothy." I gave a little laugh, "My, but this summer has been so busy with all these parties and such, the faces are starting to blur together." That was the truth, our parents had introduced me to so many of these boys that I was having more difficulty keeping up with their names than when all those nobles from the south of Calormen with the ridiculously long names came to Cair Paravel...but I couldn't tell them that, no.

Lucy and Edmund looked at each other in concern, and then Lucy tried again. "Are you sure you can't cancel, Su, and spend the evening with us?"

I couldn't, I wanted to but I couldn't. I give Lucy another little smile, "I'm sorry, Lu, but I can't cancel. It would be the height of rudeness to do so at this late hour." It was true and I couldn't shame our parents by doing that, no matter my personal feelings.

Jill made another sound of disgust, this time loud enough that the others turned to look at her. Our cousin Eustace, going to Narnia truly had done wonders for him, tried to keep her out of it by plucking on her sleeve, but it didn't work. "You mean you can't be troubled to play games with children...after all, it might muss your hair. Though, I don't see why you're so concerned about your appearance when you're just as likely as to come back from this dance with your hair and lipstick mussed."

I did not think of Jill as a cruel girl, but she did make her opinion and disapproval of me quite clear. Actually, she reminded me of Aravis to an extent...most impetuous and headstrong. With her mixed heritage of an Irish mother and an Afro-Caribbean father, Jill had her own personal kind of beauty that was only just beginning to blossom...that might be another reason she reminded me of Aravis. It was unkind of her though to refer to the worst date I had experienced since coming back to England, but the basic assumption everyone had made was that I had invited such trouble. Did they think I had not learned my lesson with Rabadash?

I waited a moment for my siblings, my defenders, to correct Jill's error, but they didn't and it cut me to the quick. Instead, Polly nodded, "I do question your intentions, Susan, when you go out dressed as you are. You're inviting trouble, and in the silliest of ways." My mother had selected the dress, actually, she had picked all the dresses for these dates, did they not realize that?

My temper flared, I had put up with this same sort of abuse from these two in particular increasingly over the last year and I had had enough. How dare they? How dare they judge me? They had never known me, Susan, the Gentle Queen of Narnia, all they saw was the pretty mask I wore in Finchley. They didn't know the real me and yet they stood in judgment of me? "How dare you!"

Peter shook his head, "Su, be reasonable. You've hardly been dressing like you should, like a-"

Queen. That was what he was going to say, but as I remembered how he had just stood silent, my anger flared further. "You've no call to dictate what I may or may not wear, Peter Pevensie! You do not own me! I will not be ridiculed by the likes of you, any of you. I refuse! I have put up with your insistence on that game ever since I got back from America with Mother and Father, but no more! I have also put up with your little snide comments and derisive remarks concerning how I act, what I wear, and what I do for far too long. I am done with you! All of you! Never speak to me of that ridiculous game again! I will live my life the way I choose and not the way you dictate!" Whirling around, ignoring the way Lucy called my name, I ran out the front door and slammed it behind me. No goodbyes or gentle cautions to be careful.

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I spoke harsh words, cruel words, words I wished I could take back almost the instant I left the house. But, it was too late. I couldn't go back. I couldn't be a ghost anymore. That night I went on my date with Timothy and hid the urge to tell him when he asked me how I knew so much about social economics that it was because Centaurs, Satyrs, Fauns, Dryads, and Owls had tutored me on how best to rule my country. When we danced, I pretended I was dancing with each of my beloved friends, from the dear Beavers and Mr. Tumnus to even that boy Caspian. I danced and bade them farewell. They were all dead now and it was time to bid them farewell. To them and Narnia, I bid adieu. Aslan, guard mine steps for I make my journey alone.

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I stopped dwelling even secretly on who I was... I became simply Susan Pevensie, the pretty one of the Pevensie children…the normal one after the war. I threw myself into living in the world of England. I no longer fought my mother on what dresses to wear. I no longer protested when my father insisted I meet the sons of his academic fellows. I no longer tried to be Susan the Gentle Queen of Narnia. I let it all go. I would make something of myself in the world of England...I silently told my siblings and the other Friends to just watch and see how I would spread my wings and fly here as well as I did there.

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September 19, 1946

I laughed with a young man as we shared a toast. I didn't know his name, but it hardly mattered. We were there for the same reason. Our parents needed at least one child to be at the party. I turned from him and accepted an invitation to dance from another young man, at least him I knew. Jonathon Pole, Jill's older brother, he was about Peter's age, twenty-two or maybe he was twenty-three now. I liked him, he was always polite to me, even though he knew Jill didn't like me very much, the silly child. He leaned down as we danced a simple waltz and whispered in my ear, "Don't you ever get tired of the charade, Susan?"

I smiled and tilted my head back as I rose on my toes and whispered back, "Every day. But that's life. Now, let's enjoy the moment, shall we?"

He chuckled as a smile made his already winsome face even more handsome and I counted myself lucky that he was decent too. I knew he had started to protect me much like my brothers used to do before we ceased to speak to each other save for when our parents were present. But, I didn't mind. Some nights I even welcomed it as drunks could be oblivious to what the word "no" meant. We danced together twice that night, but my parents didn't really approve of him so he never asked to walk me home. It was too bad...I liked him better than any of the boys who fawned after me.

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"Edmund! Did you find her?"

Lucy clasped her hands in a silent plea, but she knew as soon as Edmund turned what he would say. He shrugged as he took off his jacket, "I caught her just as she was leaving with that Hockman fellow. She didn't appreciate, Lu. And, she has declined to come to the dinner with the Friends. But, we both knew she would. Our sister does not wish to discuss Narnia or spend any time with the Friends of Narnia. I don't think she's coming back, Lu. I know Peter doesn't."

Lucy clasped her hands tighter and shook her head, "But, surely, brother, you are not suggesting we give up on Our Sister Queen? What would Aslan say?"

Edmund hung his head a little, "Truly, Sister, thou doest know how best to cut me to the quick. Our Lord would say to keep showing her our love, but she has made that a near impossible feat."

Lucy grabbed Edmund's hand and squeezed, "Then we must pray that He shall speak to Our Sister's heart and remind her that we do still care and love her. He shall bring her home. We just have to believe and have faith and be patient."

Edmund nodded then drew Lucy into a hug. She took comfort in her brother's strength and prayed to Aslan that He would keep Susan within His paws. The last year had been hard on them all since Susan had fled the house in a fury over the comments made that evening by Polly, Jill, and even Peter. Until that evening, Lucy had been certain that their Susan the Gentle Queen was still lurking just under the surface waiting for the right moment, the right invitation to come back out and show the world her true self. Now, however, it seemed the Gentle Queen had retreated nearly beyond their reach. Lucy took a deep breath and prayed harder because she knew even if they could not reach their Sister, He could.

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September 19, 1947

I laughed as I walked arm in arm with a boy by the name of George...no, it was Gregory. We were taking the day to visit the zoo. I hadn't been in years, which was the main reason I had agreed. The other reason was that it was public enough Gregory wouldn't try what had been in his eyes since our mothers introduced us and left us alone. I was twenty-one years old, and I could probably fight off the boy whose years at school had clearly not been devoted to any real physical activity. I had the slightly contemptuous thought that he was ridiculous soft for someone who was twenty-five, no wonder I couldn't think of him as anything other than a boy. The other reason nudged at the back of my mind but I resolutely ignored it.

I unhooked our arms as we approached the lions' exhibit. I smiled as I spotted a proud young lioness prowling along the boundaries, she reminded me of Lucy. Gregory jumped when the lioness turned around and growled in our direction. He hastily beat a retreat under the excuse of fetching some lemonade...he would probably add some brandy to his cup. My smile widened as the thought crossed my mind about how the boy would probably jump if Lucy had done her own version of a growl.

My grin faded as I looked past the young lioness and was caught in a golden gaze. A huge lion, magnificent in his reclining glory atop a huge rock that looked for all the world like a large stone table, watched me with steady golden eyes. His mane wasn't the dark brown of the lion who had been here the last time I came to the zoo, no it was a brilliant golden mane worthy of the king of beasts. I stood there frozen as he watched me with unblinking golden eyes...I remembered... I released a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding as the lion released me from his gaze and flopped onto his side on the stone table...rock. He flopped down on his side on the rock. For some reason...for a reason I refused to examine, I was shaky, no, plain shaken by the gaze of a lion. I almost licked my lips, but stopped at the last moment as I remembered my lipstick. With careful precision, I turned around and walked away from the lion and those memories.

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September 12, 1949

"Lucy! Come on! We're going to be late!"

Lucy sighed as she added the last touches to her letter and slipped it into the envelope next to the carefully folded drawing. "I'm coming, Ed!" She quickly licked the seal then scribbled the address onto the front. Running down the stairs, she hurried into her father's office and grabbed a stamp. Pressing it in place, she ran past Edmund to catch Mr. Swift the postman. He smiled and accepted it with a little tug on his hat brim.

She looked over her shoulder and laughed at Edmund's look of feigned annoyance as he pretended to brush dust off his shirt. "I thought you were worried about being late, brother."

"I was, but I did not expect to be run over by you, fair sister. What was that hurry about, anyway?"

Lucy shrugged as she accepted Edmund's proffered arm and they started strolling down the walk. "I wanted to make sure my letter got out."

He sighed, "Do you think she even reads them, Lu? She refused to talk to Peter when he tried to talk to her about her behavior last year and again a few months ago."

Lucy shook her head, "I told you both that was the wrong way to go about it. And, I don't know if she reads them, but at least she knows I love her enough to keep making the effort. Besides, I still believe Aslan will guide her steps back to Him, it's just a longer road than ours. I mean, look at how long it took us to realize who He was in this world."

She fell silent as Edmund patted her hand, "I hope you're right, good my sister. Now, let's go join the Friends for dinner. Who knows, maybe Aslan will send us a sign of Narnia other than our memories."

As they continued walking, Lucy prayed all the harder that Aslan would indeed bring Susan home soon. And, that He would make sure she knew that her siblings still loved her. She prayed that all through dinner, pausing only when the spirit of a Narnian man appeared looking like he needed help, but he spoke not a word even when her brother, the High King, commanded him to speak. Something was about to change, she could feel it...she wondered if Susan would experience it too.

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September 19, 1949

I was torn between joy and trepidation when I see an envelope addressed in the delicate yet bold handwriting that is Lucy's trademark in my mail. I read every letter she sent and looked at every drawing, but it always took me at least a week, sometimes longer, before I could summon my courage enough to open it and open the wounds in my heart. I wished I had the courage to write back or to ring them and just say, "I love you. I'm sorry." I stood by the phone, holding the letter, and I took a deep breath then reached for the phone only to stop when I remembered they were all gone to see off Eustace and Jill to school.

Unwilling to let my courage go, I promised myself that I would ring them later tonight or even tomorrow just so I could hear their voices and tell them I loved them and I was sorry for letting our disagreement progress to the point of cutting them out of my life as much as possible. Yes, that was what I was going to do.

A knock at the door drew my attention and I opened it, still clutching Lucy's letter. I took one look at the two policemen and their grim faces and I knew. My knees buckled and I clutched the doorframe as they told me there had been a terrible, terrible accident with the train...still clutching Lucy's letter. As I went to identify the remains, they told me more. Three cars of people had been killed or injured while all but one baby had been killed among the people waiting at the station, and they were calling it a miracle that the baby had survived and that it hadn't been any worse. Any worse? It was already devastating for me. My entire family was gone, taken from me in such a way that I never even got the chance to make amends with them.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. How could He do this? How?

Six days later, I stood in silence at the funeral and wake alongside my aunt and uncle and Jill Pole's brother and parents. I was numb. I couldn't feel anything. As soon as the last mourner passed me, I turned and walked away. Jonathon must have followed me because as soon as I left the gathering, he came up beside me and offered his hand. I took it, I clung to it, to him, his warmth. We walked away from that place of death hand in hand. And, then he held me as I finally opened Lucy's letter and read her words of forgiveness and love and hope that I would come back home. I finally wept then and Jonathon wept with me.

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September 19, 1950

When Jonathon Pole showed up at my door today, I had been surprised at his insistence I needed to get out of the house. It was the one-year anniversary of the accident that had changed everything. I had planned to stay home with my memories. But, Jonathon had other ideas. So, I let him drag me out of the house of memories without a touch of makeup on and my hair simply brushed, not styled or even put up. We walked hand in hand up to the cemetery and Jonathon bought roses for us to set on the nine graves. And then, to my great reluctance, he dragged me into the chapel where they were holding some sort of special service since it was a Tuesday after all.

I was hesitant and ashamed as I sat there next to Jonathon in the back of the chapel while the pastor spoke. I hadn't found a good reason to come back to Him after everything that had happened. It had hurt too much too often. But, I had been reading Lucy's letters again and looking at the drawings, especially of Him and us...Him and me. Looking up, I let out a little gasp as I met the gaze of a golden lion in the stained glass window above the pulpit. Jonathon grabbed my hand again and gave it a gentle, comforting squeeze. He leaned down slightly and whispered in my ear, "He still loves you, Susan."

I shot a wide-eyed glance in his direction then I heard the pastor speaking with stunning clarity, "Listen now, as I read Luke chapter fifteen, verses twenty and twenty-four. "While the son was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion for him, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. "Let us celebrate for this child of mine was dead and he has come back to life, he was lost and now he is found." And they began to celebrate."" Do you see what He says to all of us? To His sons and His daughters, He says come to Me, just turn toward Me and reach out for Me and I will run to you, celebrating and loving you as much as I had before you strayed from home." He suddenly pointed to the window behind him and it felt as though his eyes were staring right at me as the pastor continued, "The Great Lion, the Lion of Judah, is waiting for you to turn around face Him. He wants you to come back to Him. He misses you, He loves you, He has mourned with you, and He desires to celebrate with you if you will only turn around and look to Him for strength in this world."

Those words struck a chord deep within my heart as I sat there clutching Jonathon's hand and staring at the Lion as the sun illuminated Him. It was an echo of every letter Lucy ever sent, of even those fewer letters sent by Edmund and Peter. It was an echo of the drawings Lucy had sent, of my memories of running with Him and walking with Him to the Stone Table then seeing Him risen. It was truth and Susan the Gentle Queen of Narnia was no longer content to be silent in the world of England. I sat there with tears streaming freely down my cheeks and clutched Jonathon's hand a little tighter as I bowed my head and whispered, "I look to You. Forgive me."

As we left the church, Jonathon wrapped his arm around me and bussed the top of my head. "I told you He was listening, Susan. Or, should I call you, Your Majesty?"

All right, he knew. At least that meant I could share more of Lucy's letters and the boys' letters with him and the more Narnian drawings of our lives in the Golden Age. I laughed softly and gave him a little bump with my shoulder but, for the first time in years, it was my true laugh. I no longer felt like a ghost or a shadow of myself. Even though we walked away from the church, I knew in my heart I was running back towards Him...and, it might have been a trick of the wind, but as Jonathon and I left, I could have sworn I heard a roar.

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A/N: Please Read and Review! So, this was my first story for Susan...hopefully, I got her right. now, before I get a bunch of angry messages, this was not bashing Jill or Polly. It was my interpretation of how they must have acted towards Susan based on their frankly spiteful and harsh comments about her in the Last Battle and their past behavior in the books. I actually like Jill and Polly, except for that attitude they took concerning Susan, judgmental disapproval. Anyway, leave a review and let me know what you thought about this interpretation of Susan.