Susan had never been the same after that day, that horrible day when she lost absolutely everything. She had thought, once, that she could never feel more empty than the day when she was told she could never enter Narnia again. If leaving Narnia hurt, losing her entire family crippled her, and left a giant, gaping hole in her heart that hurt every single day. It wasn't just that she lost Peter, Edmund, and Lucy, because that was difficult enough to bear, but she had lost her mother, and father, and Eustace, and the Professor, and everyone whom she had ever loved. If she felt alone after Narnia…it was nothing compared to her loneliness after that day.
So Susan stopped pretending to forget Narnia, because what was the point anymore? She would never feel complete again…no amount of parties, or make up, or boyfriends could heal her now. It didn't matter, though, because she no longer had anyone to share the memories with, so she wrote them down; pages and pages of stories, for her eyes only. Reading them helped ease the pain, if only momentarily. She could close her eyes and get lost in the memories, hear Lucy's laughter, Peter and Edmund's playful bickering, hear the soft roar of the sea at Cair Paravel…there were times when she could almost feel Aslan's soft mane running through her fingers, and she remembered how much she had loved him, once.
Then Susan met Colin. He was a sensible, good man, who happened to adore her. He could give her a good life, and they could be happy together. Or, in Susan's case, mostly happy, because she knew she could never be truly happy again.
"You're so beautiful," Colin told her one day while he was walking her home from the cinema. "You're so poised, the way you carry yourself is almost regal. Has anyone ever told you that?"
Susan stopped dead in her tracks, getting the most peculiar look on her face, going almost ghostly pale.
"Don't say that," she pleaded quietly, voice trembling slightly, "I'm no Queen."
"Queen?" Colin laughed, "I was going to say princess, don't all girls dream of being a princess?" Susan looked almost affronted at the notion, which just made Colin laugh harder and wrap an arm around her, pulling her close to his side and dropping a small kiss on her hairline. "Alright then, darling, Queen it is. I do suppose it is good to have some ambition in life," he teased. Susan forced a smile and ran a hand through her hair where her crown used to sit, a long, long time ago.
Susan and Colin married quietly, with only his immediate family in attendance and a couple of friends. No one wanted to draw attention to the fact that, had they elected for a big to-do, Susan's side of the church would be almost empty. Susan was grateful for the discretion, as it was hard enough to imagine getting married without Lucy fussing over her dress, her mother in tears, Edmund and Peter pretending not to cry, and her father walking her down the aisle. The thought was too much to bear, and Susan almost broke down into tears twice during the ceremony.
When Susan had her first child, the nurse wheeled him into the hospital room with a bright smile on her face.
"And what is this little man's name?" the nurse asked.
Susan only glanced at Colin for a second before answering, "Peter Edmund Crawford."
"That's a nice, strong name for this handsome one," the nurse complimented before handing him over to his mother.
Susan took him in her arms and smiled down at him.
"Hello little one," Susan said softly, "you were named after two very important people, so hopefully you will grow up to be as brave, just, and magnificent as they were. In this world…and any others." A wave of emotion flooded over her and she suddenly didn't feel quite so alone anymore.
"I wish his namesakes could have been here to meet him," Colin said sympathetically.
"I think," Susan said, brushing tears from her eyes, "that somehow they are."
In the back of her mind, she almost thought she could hear a roar of approval.
One night Colin walked in on Susan as she was singing little Peter a lullaby, for that's how she would always think of him—little Peter. It was an important distinction to make, because although she loved her son with every inch of herself, he could never replace her brother. No one could.
"That's beautiful," Colin complimented. "I've never heard it before, what is it?"
"It's a very old lullaby that I used to sing to my brothers and sister when we were in Na—the country…during the war," Susan said, so relaxed that she almost slipped up.
"It's…ethereal," Colin said, impressed, "I've never heard anything quite like it."
"You know," Susan said, a soft smile playing at her face as she looked down at her sleeping baby boy, "legend has it that the trees wrote the song in joyful celebration of the spring, and the wind carried it all the way across the land to a castle on the sea where a dryad sang it for kings and queens."
"Is that so?" Colin asked with a bemused smile as his wife looked almost lost in a memory, which tended to happen from time to time.
"Mmm," Susan said, before snapping back to reality. "Of course, it's only a legend," she said, face tinged with embarrassment.
"Well, legend or not, we could certainly use a bit of spring around here," Colin said, wrapping an arm around his wife and child. "I'm beginning to think this winter will never end!"
Susan let out a genuine laugh at that and lay her head on his shoulder affectionately, "Oh Colin, you have no idea!"
The years passed, and Susan had two more children, another little boy named John, and her youngest, a little girl aptly named Lucy. Susan had settled into family life well, and was no longer as lonely as she once was, but there was not a day that went by where she did not think of her brothers and sister, her parents…and Narnia. She supposed they were all in Aslan's Country now, where they belonged. She would never say it, but her deepest, greatest fear was that Aslan's Country was a place where she could never belong. That her family, and Aslan were truly lost to her forever.
She couldn't brood long, however, for at that very moment she heard a triumphant battle cry from one of her children playing outside.
"For Narnia!" Peter cried.
"And for Aslan!" John echoed, as they charged across the lawn, fighting imaginary foes in their path as little Lucy, only four years old, stood and watched her older brothers with rapt attention.
Susan's heart rose to her throat and she felt like throwing up. Forgetting the dishes she was doing, she ran outside.
"Peter! John!" She cried frantically.
"Yes, Mummy?" Peter asked, confused by the look of shock on his mother's face. "Is something wrong?"
"Where did you hear that?" Susan asked, trying to stay composed. "About Narnia and Aslan?"
"From a storybook," John answered, "we found it in your room."
"Yes, it's filled with such wonderful stories!" Little Lucy piped up excitedly.
Susan let out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding. Of course her children hadn't actually gone to Narnia, they were far too young. Looking at her three children's smiling, hopeful faces, she couldn't help but smile back.
"What have I told you three about going through our room?" Susan asked chidingly.
"We're sorry," Peter said immediately, hoping to avoid a lecture. "You can have the book back, if you want…it was just filled with so many adventures!"
"It's alright," Susan said with a soft smile. "You all keep it, the adventures are all up here anyway," Susan said, tapping the side of her head.
"What do you mean?" Lucy asked curiously.
"Those adventures," Susan started uncertainly, "they're real. The people in the book are your Uncle Peter, Uncle Edmund, Aunt Lucy and I."
"They're real?" Peter exclaimed excitingly.
"I knew it!" Lucy cried, and John looked at his mother in pure wonder.
In that moment, Susan knew that she had done the right thing. It was precious, an indescribable feeling to be able to share Narnia with her children. It wasn't quite the same as sharing it with her siblings, but she knew that the stories would give her children hope, and imagination, something that Susan had lost along the way.
Susan's children did indeed grow up listening intently to stories of Narnia, and Aslan, to which Colin accredited his wife's fantastic imagination, but his children knew better. They never doubted that the stories were real, or if they did, they always played along when Susan would tell them.
Before long, her children were grown, in University, and becoming adults. That was when it happened, one winter morning. Cancer.
The doctors said they'd do their best, but Susan knew she didn't have long. Her children rushed home to be by her side, and it wasn't long before she found herself lying in bed with her family surrounding her.
"When Aslan bares his teeth, winter meets its death," Susan quoted laboriously, struggling with every breath.
"Mum, no," Lucy cried, grabbing Susan's hand, as if pleading with her to stay for a little bit longer.
"It's alright, my darling," Susan said, squeezing Lucy's hand as best as she could. "When He shakes His mane, we shall have spring again. I'm not afraid," Susan said quietly, "they're all waiting for me. And I'll be waiting for all of you, when your time comes. Take care of each other," Susan said, looking at each of her beloved children and her husband, who had been there for her through so much. "Family…" she started, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. "Family is everything. I love you all so."
Susan took one final breath before a look of complete and utter joy radiated across her face.
"Aslan," she breathed, and with that, Susan, the Gentle Queen, was gone.
Lucy and John held tightly to Peter as they cried. Peter, through his tears, tried to soothe them, "It will be okay," he said softly, "she's in Aslan's Country now, where she belongs."
Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen of Narnia.