This is kind of embarrassing to look back on. I got rid of some of the more obvious typos and technical errors, although I'm sure there are more that I didn't catch. I also divided the story into four chapters instead of one.
Each section is about one of the Pevensies, from the perspective of one of their siblings. The writing is meant to follow the characters' train of thought. I think it's fairly easy to tell who's who, but please ask is anything doesn't make sense.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
I have no idea Susan. None. Is it something wrong with the country you loved; something wrong with Aslan? With us? She isn't the person she used to be or the person she should be. She doesn't even remember that person. How can you do this to us? How could you forget so easily? She sees nothing substantial anymore. She doesn't care that there are hundreds - thousands - of people bowing in her name . . . waiting for her. But that isn't true. Susan would care about that. She would care a great deal . . . if she remembered. Perhaps she couldn't help forgetting. Perhaps the friends - human friends - are more important to her. But they don't love you, Susan! Not the way we or her subjects do. Not for who she really is.
Lipstick, nylons, styles of clothing. It's all those girls think about. All Susan thinks about! Although she isn't one of those - one of them. You were always so beautiful. It's why they like her; I know it is. She was the most beautiful person I ever knew. And the warmest. The gentlest. The most compassionate. The nicest smelling.
Why does she let them change her? Is it because she's afraid? Was Narnia too strange; too frightening? Not at first. But when it followed her back to Earth? Maybe. They wouldn't have accepted her the way she was and she wants to be accepted. She always was too keen to be grown-up. I can't stand those shallow girls that adopted her, but I can't blame Susan. She's my sister. I've needed her my entire life. I still need her. And even though she isn't there - not the Susan I know her to be - I'll still love her forever.
Maybe it's my own fault. All our faults. Maybe we should have been less impatient . . . Maybe we frightened her. Maybe Aslan frightened her. If he hadn't told her to go back . . . Maybe she had to forget. So she replaced our world with this one. She was strong in Narnia. She was happy there. A great ruler.
She doesn't trust herself. Not enough to be brave and noble like before. She's trying to be shallow . . . because they - the humans - have made her think that's all she can be. And it's a lie. A horrible, cruel lie.
You're a queen, Susan. Somewhere there are hundreds - thousands of people who can still remember you. They still sing about her to their children and tell romantic, but entirely true stories of her beauty and her goodness. In the oldest parts of the country, noble beasts still keep their ears open for the sound of Queen Susan's horn.
But she doesn't know any of that.
Because she doesn't remember.
She's lost. We have lost her. But not forever . . .
I can't believe that it's forever.