Summary: Peter, Edmund, and Lucy CO-write Susan a letter, and Susan finds it post-Last Battle. Way better than I make it sound, I stink at summaries...R&R
A/N: Hopefully it's clear who is saying what. Originally I had each character's part in a different font, but as I can't upload it like that I had to improvise...Anyway I was near tears writing the last part, so hopefully you won't be as bad as I was. I usually don't like post-LB stuff, it makes me sad, but I wanted to try it. Hope it turned out okay! I post all my disclaimers on my profile. Please tell me if this is against the rules, I haven't looked into it... This story has little to nothing to do with the Lady Antebellum song, "Hello World," it was simply the inspiration for the title.
KEY:
Peter
Lucy
Edmund
Susan
Dear Queen Susan, Our Royal Sister,
This letter was Lucy's idea. Peter, Lucy, and I have tried and tried to get you to change your mind about Narnia and Aslan, but with no success. Even Eustace and Jill Pole have tried. It seems everyone's tried. But you're just so darn stubborn. The three of us wanted to try something different. We don't want to force you to believe. That is your own choice. We just wanted you to relive some of the adventures the four of us had. Each of us is going to share some of our fondest Narnian memories with you.
You will probably never read this letter. Why would you, when you won't listen to any of us?
Since I am the eldest, I get to go first. The parties you attend now can never compare with the balls you used to host in Cair Paravel. There used to be vast numbers of princes and delegates from all over-Estimoor and Archenland as well-who wished to attend. You would spend ages going through the guest list. Once the guests were established, you had invitations sent all over, to the various princes and officials. Then came more preparations: the gown, the menu, the seating, the decorations. You used to get so annoyed whenever any of us "interfered" with your planning! When the big day arrived, you would be up at dawn, making sure everything was perfect. You used to try to force Ed and I to come down and dance, to be social instead of working for a change. You gave us dance lessons once, I believe, and figured we should put our skills to good use. Except Lucy, of course she would always dance without your nagging. She even enjoyed the lessons.
I also remember how hard you worked on the battle filed. You and Lucy didn't see many real battles (Lucy saw more than you, you never really had interest in going), but worked in the hospital tent after. You bandaged and stitched wounds, Edmund's and mine included, while Lu used her cordial on the most severe ones (this wasn't always the case, I made her keep it back at the castle and only use it in emergencies). However, on the rare occasions you had to fight, Susan you were brilliant. You almost never missed with your bow and arrows, ready to defend Narnia and our family no matter what the cost.
I miss you, Susan. Your laugh, your smile. The gentile way you had with everyone. The way you never lost faith, even when things seemed bleak. We used to stay up all night talking. We would talk about everything. Whenever one of us needed support, we were always there for each other.
My turn. Okay, I remember our second visit, when we helped Caspian and defeated Miraz. We had been in the station, waiting for the boarding school trains. Peter had just been in a fight (no surprises there, what a year that was...) and we were sitting on a bench talking. Suddenly there was a pulling and we found ourselves in Narnia again! As we found out later, it was your own magic horn that had summoned us. At first we didn't realize where we were: this place didn't look like the Narnia we remembered. There was no faith in Aslan (thanks, Telmarines). The Telmarines had taken over, almost right after we left the first time. It was a more savage place. Almost none of the animals talked (Lu nearly got eaten by a bear when we first arrived. Trumkin the dwarf shot it just in time, thank Aslan), the trees no longer danced. We came to the ruins of a castle, a castle suspiciously similar to Cair Paravel. You found one of our golden chess pieces, and the orchard we had been eating from was exactly where ours had been, just it had grown up to the gate. The hall we were in was just the right size and shape to be our banquet hall, minus the roof. We even found the treasure chamber, with Lucy's cordial and dagger, your bow and arrows (Caspian had your horn), and Peter's sword, Rhindon, and shield. I had no gift, as I hadn't been with you when Father Christmas gave them to you. We had been at Cair Paravel the whole time, just thousands of Narnian years later! It was as if Crusaders or King Arthur had comeback to modern England.
I wish we could have one more adventure together, all four of us. In Narnia, of course. Just one final battle, one triumph. To see Aslan one more time. I wish you and Peter had been there to see the end of the world-right into Aslan's country. I think you two would have enjoyed the Dawn Treader, as well as Eustace's transformation. I miss you, Susan. The way we all used to stay up all night talking. We were closer in Narnia than we ever were in England, and I miss that.
I remember Christmas at Cair Paravel. You always had to choose the tree and oversee the decorating personally. You strung holly and mistletoe from the ceilings (with help from the good giants, of course). We had such lovely Christmas dinners, we invited all our friends: the Beavers, Mr. Tumnus the faun, Orieus the centaur, dryads, and other Talking Beasts. We ate on golden plates, with red and gold streamers and holly decorating the banquet hall. You tried to teach Peter and Edmund to dance (they would never admit it, but I think they enjoyed it), so they wouldn't make fools out of themselves, their being kings and all. At least, that's what you told them.
I miss you, Susan. Your laugh, your smile. The way you would always fret over Peter and Edmund when they came back from a campaign. The advice you gave me about everything. In Narnia, we felt more like a family than we ever did in England. Maybe that came from years of ruling together. We used to spend hours talking, all four of us, especially when we didn't want to be doing royal duties and wanted an excuse to not be doing them. We talked about everything: battles (believe it or not, you actually didn't mind that-except when anyone got injured), the Talking Beats, events of the day. Treaties an d laws, court cases, lessons. Whatever was on our minds, whatever issues we had that needed resolving. We were always there for each other. We used to do all sorts of things together. But not anymore. Not since Eustace came back from Narnia the second time. Not since you have grown apart from us. We've all changed since Narnia.
Love, Your Royal Siblings,
High King Peter the Magnificent
King Edmund the Just
Queen Lucy the Valiant
Susan's hands shake as she puts down the letter. Tears fall freely down her beautiful face. Images flood her mind. Images she now realizes to be memories, not just a game made up by children. Cair Paravel. The royal throne room. Aslan. Picking up her pen, she starts to write a reply that the Magnificent, the Just, and the Valiant will never read.
Dear King Peter, King Edmund, and Queen Lucy, My Royal Siblings,
You will never read this letter. You are gone, gone where I cannot reach you. I wish you were here. I wish I could tell you just how wrong I've been. I never meant to put you through all that. I wish I had seen your letter while you were still here, so we could have made up. I just couldn't accept that I was never going back. I told myself Narnia didn't exist because it was easier that way. No pain, no longing. I wanted to focus on the present and future, instead of dawdling on a past and a place I could never return to. A place I knew, deep down, I wanted to see again desperately. I remember it all, all the memories I've been burying and denying all this time. I thought it would be better that way. Now that we were all growing up, I thought we should start focusing on more grow-up pursuits, rather than our childhoods. I so wanted to be grown-up, and the first step would be to stop believing in so-called fairytales.
When I came back for the last time, I felt abandoned by Aslan. How could he have let this happen? What was I to do without him for guidance? I couldn't figure out what I had done to deserve banishment from Narnia. I couldn't see how this all fit into Aslan's plan for us. I lost faith in him when I needed him most.
I just wanted to say, I believe you now. I wish I had seen sooner.
Love, Your Royal Sister,
Queen Susan the Gentile
Susan folds the letter and puts it into an envelope, which she carefully wraps in plastic. Placing it into her purse, she walks out of her house and down the street. After a while, she reaches a cemetery. She walks up the rows, looking at the names. She stops at a row with a stone labeled Peter, Edmund, and Lucy Pevensie. A lion is carved below the names, following three dates of birth and one date of death.
Susan thinks of that day, the day she found out about the deaths of nearly everyone she cared about. Her siblings and parents. Eustace and Jill Pole. Professor Kirke and Aunt Polly. Stooping, she removes the letter from her purse and places it on the grave. Susan stands there for a moment, letting silent tears run down her face. Pain rips through her heart, cutting her insides with its jagged blade. She falls to her knees, and something she heard Peter and Lucy recite long ago runs through her mind: "When Aslan bears his teeth, winter meets its death/When he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again." Aslan, Susan now realizes, can help bring spring back into her life, as long as she has faith in him.