Disclaimer: The world of Narnia and all its people are the creations of C.S Lewis. Not mine. Unfortunately for me….that man was brilliant in his simplicity. I should take a cue or two from him….
Author's Note: Romeo and Juliet, Cecilia and Robbie of Atonement, Louis XIV and Marie Mancini of Le Roi Soleil, Will and Lyra, Joe Bradley and Princess Ann, Satine and Christian…..all hopeless, impossible loves that could never be or ended before they ever had a chance to happen. These are the kind of tragedies that people love to read, but seeing Prince Caspian and Susan made me want a happy ending, for once. I know this romance is not in any way implied in the books, but it was never made clear if it couldn't have happened, either. Lewis left a lot of room for speculation and development on the relationships and personalities of his characters.
None the less, I am going to stick to the original story line as much as possible. This takes place in two parts; the first part pre- Dawn Treader, the second part post –Last Battle.
"Spoken words"
'thoughts'
Chapter I
La vie en rose
"Quand il me prend dans ses bras
Il me parle tout bas,
Je vois la vie en rose."
The words, spoken with a trace of English accent, pierced her wandering awareness. Susan blinked. Her classmate blinked back at her, the start of annoyance mixed with puzzlement as the expectant pause became several moments of awkward quiet. Georgiana, Susan's boarding mate at St Helen's Queen Academy for Young Ladies, let the silence stretch on for a little while more while Susan stared and blinked some more, clearly trying to return her thoughts into the stuffy, shelf-filled library and come back from the million miles away of daydreaming .
Just as Georgiana began to drum her fingers in an irritated rhythm on the desktop, Susan gave herself a mental shake, wanting to kick herself for being so careless with her thoughts. "Ah….terribly sorry about that, Georgiana. Please repeat that for me?" Georgiana sigh slightly-French pronunciation could be such a bother sometimes- and repeated the French phrase. Susan felt her heart stop at the memories the words inspired in her, memories she wasn't prepared to deal with. Taking a deep breath to master herself, Susan folded her hands on her gray-pleated lap and with a straight face recited the English translation for the popular song's lyrics, chosen by Georgiana to use as an exercise for French study. Her accent was flawless, and understanding of the language perfect, but the heart-felt words of the song rang hollowly in Susan's expressionless tone of voice and face.
Frowning slightly from both a twinge of jealously and concentration, Georgiana brushed blonde bangs out of her eyes as she went through the French dictionary, checking the words she wasn't sure of to make sure of the correct translation. "Hm….parle….vois…..yes…yes…you got it right, Susan. All of it right. Except for the last bit you didn't translate…La vie en rose…." Susan smiled wanly, closing her notebook with a decisive clap. "Those words aren't something can't be properly translated without losing their true meaning, Georgiana." Checking her watch, Susan stood up from the plush armchair, sweeping books into a large leather school bag. "And that shall conclude our study for today!" "Uh….yes, of course!" Georgiana responded quickly, surprised and slightly put off by the commanding but gracious tone of voice Susan had suddenly adopted. With another smile that never reached her eyes, Susan said her polite goodbyes to Georgiana, and departed from the library so swiftly Georgiana was left to wonder if perhaps she behaved perhaps too impatiently with Ms. Susan Pevenisie's daydreaming inattentiveness, something that seemed to happen more than ever during classes and study sessions this term. Shrugging, Georgiana also began to sweep her books off the massive pine desk and into her bag; Susan's problems were no concern of hers. Though she did want to ask every now and then exactly what Susan could be thinking of. Whenever Georgiana saw that daydreaming look on Susan's face, the expression was sometimes one of intense longing, combined with a numb-eyed look of those who must except the inventible, no matter how bad it was; that, combined with the reserved, overly gracious and polite attitude that seemed to mask some deeper feeling, was a marked change from the smiling, sociable girl of last term, who had been so happy to be back in school after a long respite caused by the war.
Georgiana, like other girls who had been friends or acquaintances in previous terms, attributed this change to belated psychological effects of the war, or perhaps to the emotional stresses of simply being a teenage girl
None of them were close in the least. None could ever comprehend the burden of memory that weighed down on Susan's mind and heart with every breath she took. None, that is, except the three others of her own blood who had shared in that particular experience which comprised a large part of those memories, memories that made Susan ache with longing. But not even they, her own sister and brothers who were the only people in this entire world who could relate in the experience of a whole other life lived in another world; even they couldn't understand the extent of Susan's burden. Susan knew they also would attribute her detached behavior to the pain of losing Narnia forever, and while it was true that was a large part of her burden, that was not the entire cause of her pain.
No, it wasn't anything as simple as forever losing a life and a world as dear to her heart as the siblings who shared that life with her, although the logical part of her mind said it should be. As Susan Pevensie walked through the heavy wooden doors into the bright sunshine and early chill of autumn, she found her self contemplating once again on her loss, and wanted to shake her head at her folly. But because to deny it would be to acknowledge it, Susan simply raised her face to the sun, closing her eyes to absorb the lingering warmth. While she must have looked a strange sight, her dark-haired, uniformed silhouette surrounded by the pines and bushes of the school courtyards, face upturned to the sun, Susan cared little for the amused or odd looks from any passerby. All that mattered was this contradictory moment of denial and remembrance: the sun's warmth brought her mind rushing back once more to the fantastical mountains and majestic castles of the world that so vividly lived on in her thoughts and dreams, even as she sought to suppress the acknowledgement of some deeper emotion associated with that place. The rush of wind through the pine needles could have been the trees murmuring; the cool breeze that brushed her face might have been the forever chilly wind that blew off the sea or mountains.
The abrupt slam of a door and shrill ring of a phone through an open window shattered through Susan's mind, yanking her back to the present. To this world.
It was never meant to last…..
Sighing, Susan opened her eyes, resolving yet again to put an end to her day dreams. But then her eyes suddenly caught on a lone patch of bright pink amongst the dense green foliage of pines and leafy brush that composed most of the plants in the courtyard. Without realizing it, Susan was suddenly running towards the patch of pink, and after a few short steps she was standing before short tree, half its branches full of small blossoms. The light pink petals floated with ethereal speed from branches to ground, a few landing in her hair. She reached up a hand to pluck one of the blossoms from the tree, and as her hand closed around the fragile petals, her mind suddenly recalled a memory. A memory in which flowers like these were thrown from the grateful hands of a cheering crowd, as she rode behind a newly crowned king through the streets of a liberated city. The pink petals swirled around her and her siblings as they proudly rode through the city, and the joy and splendor of the day came rushing back to her, along with the remembrance of one person who figured so vividly in this memory. In her minds eye, Susan could still see him as he half-turned in his saddle to look back and send her that heart-stopping smile that had forced Susan to acknowledge that he was more than just the young king she and her siblings came to aid, and she smiled back with equal joy in her expression, and tried not to feel too giddy at the way his eyes lit up at her reaction. Pink petals continued to stream through the air, adding more color and vibrancy to the gathering crowds already energized with the victory over tyranny and hope in a new king.
Pink flowers were on some of the trees surrounding the hill where Susan breathed her last breath in Narnia, and the cheerful color seemed to jump out, in stark contrast with the heart-clenching grief that struck her and Peter as she calmly said they could never return, and something ached even more as she met Caspian's eyes when he heard those words. As Susan spoke those playful words that attempted to reason with her and him why nothing between them could have ever happened, those flowers stood out in her memory. When she had rushed back into Caspian's arms, to lay her first and final kiss on the young man she was just discovering she could have loved, she remembered how the flower's scent mingled with his as she closed her eyes in the kiss and in his arms; the lingering fragrance was one of the last things Susan remembered when she had turned away with a smile on her face, and as she walked those first steps through the portal she would now forever associate the smell with the words 'accept it, and don't look back.' And she hadn't looked back, but stepped resolutely forward as she walked behind Peter, and in that moment she determined to never let tortuous thoughts of 'what could have been' ever plague her memory.
Yet here she was, staring into space and remembering everything as if it were only yesterday. In spite of her earlier resolve, she felt that familiar pang of longing, of wanting to know what could have happened, had she stayed. The longing grew into frustration at herself for being unable to let go, and the frustration morphed into anger at the circumstances that would forever prevented from knowing the answer to the question 'what if. ' Susan looked down at the little flower resting in her hand, and suddenly crushed the fragile thing into a pulpy mess of stem and petals.
'When I'm in your arms….I see life in pink…'
'La vie en rose', indeed. If only the words could be her own reality.
The song lyrics are from 'La Vie en Rose', by Edith Piaf. If you've seen 'Le Môme' (or 'La Vie en Rose', depending where you're from) or been to France, you know this singer. She was very popular in France during the 40's and 50's (and to this day considered one of the greatest singers of all time), so I'm taking a guess and assuming that people in England would be somewhat familiar with her music, since Susan would have lived during the height of Piaf's popularity. 'La Vie en Rose' is one of Piaf's most well-known ballads, so Susan would have known this song.
And I'm not a fluent French speaker, I only know a bit from learning some songs in French…so if you can spot any errors in the translation I've done, please point them out so I can correct them.
Finally...thanks for taking the time to read this. Please review!
Merci!
