Title: Susan.
Disclaimer: I don't own "The Chronicles of Narnia.".
Author's Note: I give my sincerest thanks to C. S. Lewis for his permission to write further stories of Narnia. First person point of view. Added a second part as my way of saying thank you.
Summary: "Once a King or Queen in Narnia, Always a King or Queen in Narnia."
~Aslan, The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.
The doorbell rang, piercing the silence of my room. For a moment I debated with myself, should I get up when my head-ached so? But then it rang again and the decision was made for me; I rose wearily from my bed and stumbled towards the door. If it was one of my friends, I'd give them a piece of my mind, they knew I had a terrible migraine.
I softened my features as I opened the door; it would never do to show my irritation if it was a stranger. I was surprised to see a telegram delivery boy standing there. I wasn't expecting anything from anyone. A dreadful feeling hit my stomach, maybe it was from my family. It would be just like them to scold me for my lifestyle. That unfair thought didn't sit well with me; they may not approve of my choices but they love me enough to let me go.
"May I help you?" I asked, all the while hoping that the answer would be no.
"Miss Susan Pevensie?" He asked, I nodded and he handed me the telegram. Tipping his hat, with sadness in his eyes he wished me a good evening.
"Thank you." My voice followed him down the hall. I watched him go before slowly closing the door. I fingered the telegram, and then put it down, whatever it was could wait until later. I went back into my room and lay back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling until I fell asleep.
Bring!
I rolled over with a groan and turned off the alarm, wondering why morning seemed to come in the middle of the nicest dreams. Getting up, I stretched and went to take a shower. As I went to the door to start another day of work, I saw the telegram out of the corner of my eye. That sinking feeling filled my stomach once more. I hesitated, knowing that I should open it but I really didn't want to know what it contained.
I began to turn away when the paper shifted, a familiar face appeared. It seemed to call to me. I jumped in surprise and closed my eyes, not wanting to see. When I opened them again, the form was gone. I tried to shrug it off but found that I couldn't ignore what had just happened, any more than I could forget my time in Narnia.
Oh, how I loved Narnia. It wasn't the only place in this land but it was special. There was a sense of peace and beauty there that could not be duplicated. There was a sense of belonging that you don't find anywhere else. And Aslan was there. He tested us and found us worthy to rule this choice land of His. I was made a high queen there, as was my younger sister, Lucy. Peter and Edmund were high kings. We each became known and honored for our special abilities. Peter was our warrior, Edmund was just, and Lucy was valiant. And me? There I was honored for being gentle and beautiful.
My lips twisted bitterly at the thought. Beautiful, and so I was sought after by many suitors. I was always in need of rescuing, like when that awful Rabadash tried to trick me into marrying him. How I envied Lucy her courage. She was always ready to jump into the thick of things and always ready to speak up-like when she first discovered Narnia. We didn't believe her and yet, she never recanted. That courage has helped her here, as have Peter and Edmund's gifts.
But I was gentle and kind. Do you know how long that behavior lasts in our world? Unless you are very strong, it doesn't last long at all. Do you know, when we went back one year later to help Prince Caspian. I knew something was wrong then, I felt like I truly didn't belong there. As much as I loved Narnia, it felt wrong. I felt out of place.
After Aslan told us that Peter and I could never return, I felt this great emptiness inside me. I turned to other things, hoping to fill that void. Going to America was like entering another world. Things were very alien; people had a different outlook on life. I met a lot of new people who had such a...a sense of freedom about them. There was this attitude, the kind that made you feel like you could do anything and not worry about the consequences of your actions.
Oh, it was heady and exciting to me. The world my friends showed me was quite different, and, I have to admit, it was fun shocking my family with my actions. And I wasn't really hurting anyone. Except, I paused to reflect, my old friends. They didn't quite belong in my new life. So I cut them out. What if my heart got a little harder, that was a small price to pay to belong.
And yet, I couldn't help but wonder about my old life. There was a look in Aslan's eyes that spoke to me on that last day there before I turned and walked away. I think He knew how I felt and was saddened by it. It was almost like He would have done anything to ease my burden, heal my pain. He seemed to be waiting for me to do something, so I did. I turned and walked away from Narnia.
Enough of this line of thinking, it won't change things. I opened the telegram thinking that it was probably from Peter telling me that there's trouble in Narnia and I'm needed. I don't know why they need me; I'd just do something that would make me the center of attention and ruin everything. I opened it and read to short paragraph:
Miss Susan Pevensie, Boston, Massachusetts.
Tragic news. Your parents and brothers and sister were killed in a train accident earlier this week. Your cousin and his friend, Jill Pole were also lost. As we could not get in touch with their parents, we ask that you come and make arrangements to settle their affairs.
Respectfully yours, William Sandford.
The paper dropped from my nerveless hand. As the words sank into my numb mind, I dropped to my knees, unable to stand and felt tears running down my face. Soon they became a flood and I was sobbing uncontrollably. My mind was unable to get past the words "killed in a train accident." After what seemed like hours, the tears slowed down and I was gasping for air.
"Why?" I screamed, anger and despair filling my heart. "Why did it have to happen to them? They were so good, they believed in you. How could you desert them?" I felt so cold and alone, wondering where were all my friends and their pretty promises now?
Through my rage and emptiness, I heard the phone ringing and picked it up. It was my employer, wanting to know why I was late. How mundane, my world has fallen apart and I have to pretend that nothing has happened. I don't know where I found the courage but I quietly and calmly explain to him that I must return home, my family had died in a train wreck.
He answered quietly that he would make any arrangements necessary for me to leave and to take as much time off so that I could recover from this terrible tragedy. I thanked him and promised to come in later to pick up my tickets. We say good-bye and I got up to pack in a daze. My mind and heart are gone but my body continues to go through the motions of being alive.
Later:
The numbness has yet to leave my heart, I could not shed any tears as I watched the coffins being lowered into their graves. It was a nice funeral, just what they would have wanted but it seemed hollow. I listened with ears that felt like wads of cotton had been stuck into them, none of the words the minister offered held any comfort or solace for me. I felt dead inside of a living world.
I didn't return to work, there was so much at home that needed to be done and it wouldn't be fair to keep Mr. Wilkins waiting for me to come back. My friends have been asking me to come home, telling me that I can't dwell in the past. They say what's done is done and tell me to move on, to get over it.
Don't they know that I can't? I've tried but I just can't. It's like there's this wall of grief that I can't tear down no matter how hard I try. I know that my family is gone. I accept the fact that I will never see them again in this life. But I hate being the one who's been left behind. I feel betrayed. I always thought that their faith would keep them strong and safe.
There is one thing that bothers me. Why was I left behind? I'm not the strong one, they were. I wonder if it was something that I did, was I responsible for their deaths? I was tempted to fall to my knees and ask. But I couldn't, there was so much anger inside me against Aslan. I don't understand why He let this happen to them. And I felt ashamed of myself, I couldn't bring myself to talk to Him.
Go to bed, I tell myself, things will look better in the morning.
You've been saying that for a long time, another voice tells me. If things were going to improve, don't you think they would've already? To drown out the voices, I climb into bed and go to sleep. For once it is a calm night.
I am asleep, and yet I am not asleep. I can see my family and they are in a most beautiful place. I want to call out to them, but stop in shame. They look so happy and peaceful. I want to join them but look down at myself and see nothing more than a shadow in the shade of their bright sunlight. I don't belong there with them, I wonder if I ever did.
I begin to cry, feeling so ashamed. All the things that I thought had made me happy were but pale imitations of this, the real thing. Let me out of here! I scream, wondering why I am being forcefully reminded of all the things that I've lost. Why? Why did you desert me?
"I never deserted you, Susan." I woke up when I heard the familiar, gentle voice in the darkness. I wonder if I'm finally cracking up, but my heart leaps at the sound. I burrow down into the covers, scared that it'll leave me if I speak. I feel the shell around my heart cracking and feel afraid.
"Susan." This time it was just my name. But I know that voice and tentatively peak out over my blanket. In the shadows on the wall, I could swear that I see Aslan's loving face.
"Go away. I'm angry with you." I said, feeling the tight knot inside dissolving under His warmth. I tried to hang on to my anger, but I didn't really want to. I wanted to be whole and alive again. I wanted to feel the sun inside once more and I knew that He could help me. He was asking for my permission to heal me, He had done that before. I just had to have the courage to ask Him for it, to accept it.
"What have I done to deserve your anger, Susan?" That soft voice never changed, neither did the look in His eyes. They held me with their gentleness and love.
"You could have stopped them from dying and you didn't." Was my hurt response before the dam inside of me broke and a flood of hurt was unleashed. The words came suddenly and I couldn't stop talking once I had begun. He listened to me. After a while, they stopped, I felt weak and utterly spent. There was nothing left inside me except a feeling of relief that I'd finally spoken and let out the bile that was poisoning me.
He spoke softly in the quiet room. "Maybe. But sometimes bad things must happen to bring forth a better world."
"But why did you have to take them? Was it something I did?" My question was quiet and full of sorrow.
Then He moved towards me with His arms outstretched. I jumped up and ran into His loving arms, crying with relief as His paws enfolded me. "My dear daughter, Susan."
I looked up into His gentle face, amazed that His voice was still patient and loving. "How can you still care for me after all the things I've done?"
"Because I do. Susan, how can you believe that you are not worthy of My love?"
"I did not stay true to you or the things that I learned. I have not the courage of Lucy or the wisdom of Peter. I am not like Edmund, full of bravery. I am just me, gentle and kind." My voice was full of self-loathing, I knew what I was and hated it.
Aslan was quiet, so quiet that I thought I had made Him angry with my words. And yet, when He spoke it was not to scold me. He simply asked how long I'd been envious of my siblings' gifts.
Envious? I pondered that question for a moment before answering Him. "I guess ever since we returned from Narnia the first time. They could rejoin life and fit in, yet I noticed how different I was from everyone around me. I don't have the strength that they have to stand up and lead out."
"You have more strength than you realize, Susan. But you spend too much time comparing yourself unfavorably with others." Aslan explained patiently. "Kindness and gentleness has its place in this world, this world needs it more than you and others realize. And you must live in this world. I am here to see that you do."
There was a finality in His voice that struck me. "What do you mean? What happened to Narnia?"
"Its time has come, Narnia and all it's people are in my land. You saw them, they are happy but not joyful. That will only come when you have come home to them. So live, Susan, live."
"I will try, if you'll stay by my side." I answer quietly, laying my head on His warm side.
"I will always be with you, as I have always been." His voice purred softly, I felt His breath stirring my hair. "Though you may not always see me, you will always know that I am with you." It was the last thing I heard before I fell asleep, the first peaceful sleep I'd had in a very long time.
Part 2:
I stared out the window, my wrinkled hands touching the cool glass. Outside the children were playing on the wide, snowy lawn. I had moved into Professor Kirk's old place, the one place I would forever associate with my happiest days before the confusion of my later days. Yes, it brought back painful memories but the good times balanced those out. I knew that here I would learn to live again.
Once I arrived, I restored the house to its former glory. As harsh as this may sound, when they died, they left me a very wealthy woman. But I didn't turn the home into a museum, I offered it as a home for wayward children. Much to my surprise, the idea was welcomed without too much fuss and children came. And since that day, the house was filled with their laughter, easing my grief and warming my soul. I came to call them all my own for they were in a way my children.
And one day, he came with his sister. A young boy who was like me, gentle and kind in his manner. He was introspective and withdrawn when he came. But she was vivacious and generous, and my children loved her from the first moment she smiled at them. It was like having Lucy around again.
His name was Julian and she was Jillian. I went out of my way to make them feel welcomed and a vital part of our home. I especially focused on the boy because I saw myself in him. The children warmed to him as he did them. In this caring environment, he built up the strength I had often seen in Peter and Edmund.
On a spring day, I think it was about two years after he arrived, he found the wardrobe. I knew he would but I thought it would be earlier than it was. In the end, it doesn't matter. I was sitting in the study, going over the finances when he knocked on the door. Tears came to my eyes as I remembered that was where Professor Kirk was sitting when we approached him about our concerns over Lucy's 'imaginations' about Narnia.
Pushing aside those memories, I asked him to come in. He walked over and sat down very quietly on the chair in front of the desk, waiting for me to finish. Instead, I put my work to the side and looked at him. The work would wait, his questions would not.
(remembering)
"Is there something wrong, Julian?" I asked softly, not willing to push him to hard.
He nodded. "There's something peculiar about the wardrobe in the attic."
"I know." Smiling, I looked out the window for a moment. "Would you like to hear about it?"
There was definite interest in his eyes when I turned back to face him. "Yes, please."
I told him all. The most miraculous thing was his belief in all I said. I knew I had been right to trust the legacy to him. Narnia and its lessons would live on. There was another legacy I was leaving to him and his sister, this home and all I had would be theirs. All the arrangements had been made, I would leave no loose ends for them to take care of.
A snowball hitting the window brought a smile to my face when I saw Jillian standing there, a big smile on her face, her husband by her side. Julian was off attending a seminar in Oxford but would come as soon as he was free. I waved and turned to go when a sharp pain hit me in the chest. Clutching at the sill, I fell unconscious to the ground. When I opened my eyes I felt odd, like I wasn't truly there. The sound of my children crying reached my ears. I tried to reach out to them, to smile reassuringly but I found that I couldn't move or speak.
"Julian!" I heard Jillian cry in surprise. My eyes moved towards the door. He was standing there, pale as death as he looked at me on the bed.
"How is she?" He asked, coming into the room to stand beside her.
She stifled a sob and answered him. "The doctor says she won't ever wake up." It was like saying the words broke whatever control she had, Jillian turned away in tears. "I can't do this, not again."
Julian sat down, holding his sister. He was holding back the tears, trying not to let the grief out yet.
The sorrow in the room was more than I could bear. "Oh, Aslan. Let me help them. Help me to help them." I prayed and found that I could move. Gently I touched his shoulder, reassuring him that all was well. My heart spoke to my son's heart, telling him that I was going home.
He shook his head, not ready to believe what his heart was telling him. But then he spoke with a smile that warmed their hearts. "She isn't really gone, not really. The spirit that gave her life, has gone home. She's returned to Narnia."
I knew then that he truly believed what he was saying, he wasn't just saying the words to comfort them. My little ones, surrounded him as he slid to the floor. "Narnia is a fair land created long before you or I or even Grandmother Susan was born. But she and her family visited."
"Susan, it is time." Aslan's voice called me. "Come home."
With a last, loving glance at my adopted family, I followed him into the lightening dawn. We came to a stop in front of a door. At His glance, I opened it and entered. Before me was a land like unto Narnia, yet it was purer than the land she fondly remembered. "Where?"
"This is My land, Susan. Welcome home." He urged me on, though I trembled and did not want to go.
In the distance, I could hear familiar voices. "No. I can't." It wasn't that I didn't want to, I just couldn't get my feet to move on their own.
Aslan looked at me, understanding in His deep eyes. He didn't say anything, just looked at me.
I understood. "I must." It was not a happy thought, I was afraid of my family's reaction when they saw me. He nudged me and I moved until I saw them. They were together as in my dream. I looked down at myself, expecting to see what I had before. Much to my surprise, I was as substantial as they were.
"Your journey is not yet finished. Go on." Aslan encouraged, once more pushing me. My family seemed to freeze the moment my foot hit the dewy grass. As one, they turned to see who the newcomer was.
Though I wanted nothing more than to run away and hide, I forced myself to keep going. Lucy blinked, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Then she was running towards me, a smile of welcome on her face. The rest of my family followed after her quickly. I was suddenly hugged and surrounded by their love. I was finally home.
The End.
I would like to thank everyone once more for your kind words and help.
2 things in reference to Rendia and elisabeth's words: The joy reference stayed because I believe in joy-even if C. S. Lewis does not. As for Aslan's shape, I felt having Him appear in the form she knows would be more effective than His form in our world. It seemed to me to be implied that they did not know who He was in our world. He said as much to Lucy and Edmund that He was known in another form in our world but they would have to learn it.
As for reviewer number 59, I don't know what to tell you. I think you might have ended up in the wrong story. There has never been a part 15 to this story.
Disclaimer: I don't own "The Chronicles of Narnia.".
Author's Note: I give my sincerest thanks to C. S. Lewis for his permission to write further stories of Narnia. First person point of view. Added a second part as my way of saying thank you.
Summary: "Once a King or Queen in Narnia, Always a King or Queen in Narnia."
~Aslan, The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe.
The doorbell rang, piercing the silence of my room. For a moment I debated with myself, should I get up when my head-ached so? But then it rang again and the decision was made for me; I rose wearily from my bed and stumbled towards the door. If it was one of my friends, I'd give them a piece of my mind, they knew I had a terrible migraine.
I softened my features as I opened the door; it would never do to show my irritation if it was a stranger. I was surprised to see a telegram delivery boy standing there. I wasn't expecting anything from anyone. A dreadful feeling hit my stomach, maybe it was from my family. It would be just like them to scold me for my lifestyle. That unfair thought didn't sit well with me; they may not approve of my choices but they love me enough to let me go.
"May I help you?" I asked, all the while hoping that the answer would be no.
"Miss Susan Pevensie?" He asked, I nodded and he handed me the telegram. Tipping his hat, with sadness in his eyes he wished me a good evening.
"Thank you." My voice followed him down the hall. I watched him go before slowly closing the door. I fingered the telegram, and then put it down, whatever it was could wait until later. I went back into my room and lay back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling until I fell asleep.
Bring!
I rolled over with a groan and turned off the alarm, wondering why morning seemed to come in the middle of the nicest dreams. Getting up, I stretched and went to take a shower. As I went to the door to start another day of work, I saw the telegram out of the corner of my eye. That sinking feeling filled my stomach once more. I hesitated, knowing that I should open it but I really didn't want to know what it contained.
I began to turn away when the paper shifted, a familiar face appeared. It seemed to call to me. I jumped in surprise and closed my eyes, not wanting to see. When I opened them again, the form was gone. I tried to shrug it off but found that I couldn't ignore what had just happened, any more than I could forget my time in Narnia.
Oh, how I loved Narnia. It wasn't the only place in this land but it was special. There was a sense of peace and beauty there that could not be duplicated. There was a sense of belonging that you don't find anywhere else. And Aslan was there. He tested us and found us worthy to rule this choice land of His. I was made a high queen there, as was my younger sister, Lucy. Peter and Edmund were high kings. We each became known and honored for our special abilities. Peter was our warrior, Edmund was just, and Lucy was valiant. And me? There I was honored for being gentle and beautiful.
My lips twisted bitterly at the thought. Beautiful, and so I was sought after by many suitors. I was always in need of rescuing, like when that awful Rabadash tried to trick me into marrying him. How I envied Lucy her courage. She was always ready to jump into the thick of things and always ready to speak up-like when she first discovered Narnia. We didn't believe her and yet, she never recanted. That courage has helped her here, as have Peter and Edmund's gifts.
But I was gentle and kind. Do you know how long that behavior lasts in our world? Unless you are very strong, it doesn't last long at all. Do you know, when we went back one year later to help Prince Caspian. I knew something was wrong then, I felt like I truly didn't belong there. As much as I loved Narnia, it felt wrong. I felt out of place.
After Aslan told us that Peter and I could never return, I felt this great emptiness inside me. I turned to other things, hoping to fill that void. Going to America was like entering another world. Things were very alien; people had a different outlook on life. I met a lot of new people who had such a...a sense of freedom about them. There was this attitude, the kind that made you feel like you could do anything and not worry about the consequences of your actions.
Oh, it was heady and exciting to me. The world my friends showed me was quite different, and, I have to admit, it was fun shocking my family with my actions. And I wasn't really hurting anyone. Except, I paused to reflect, my old friends. They didn't quite belong in my new life. So I cut them out. What if my heart got a little harder, that was a small price to pay to belong.
And yet, I couldn't help but wonder about my old life. There was a look in Aslan's eyes that spoke to me on that last day there before I turned and walked away. I think He knew how I felt and was saddened by it. It was almost like He would have done anything to ease my burden, heal my pain. He seemed to be waiting for me to do something, so I did. I turned and walked away from Narnia.
Enough of this line of thinking, it won't change things. I opened the telegram thinking that it was probably from Peter telling me that there's trouble in Narnia and I'm needed. I don't know why they need me; I'd just do something that would make me the center of attention and ruin everything. I opened it and read to short paragraph:
Miss Susan Pevensie, Boston, Massachusetts.
Tragic news. Your parents and brothers and sister were killed in a train accident earlier this week. Your cousin and his friend, Jill Pole were also lost. As we could not get in touch with their parents, we ask that you come and make arrangements to settle their affairs.
Respectfully yours, William Sandford.
The paper dropped from my nerveless hand. As the words sank into my numb mind, I dropped to my knees, unable to stand and felt tears running down my face. Soon they became a flood and I was sobbing uncontrollably. My mind was unable to get past the words "killed in a train accident." After what seemed like hours, the tears slowed down and I was gasping for air.
"Why?" I screamed, anger and despair filling my heart. "Why did it have to happen to them? They were so good, they believed in you. How could you desert them?" I felt so cold and alone, wondering where were all my friends and their pretty promises now?
Through my rage and emptiness, I heard the phone ringing and picked it up. It was my employer, wanting to know why I was late. How mundane, my world has fallen apart and I have to pretend that nothing has happened. I don't know where I found the courage but I quietly and calmly explain to him that I must return home, my family had died in a train wreck.
He answered quietly that he would make any arrangements necessary for me to leave and to take as much time off so that I could recover from this terrible tragedy. I thanked him and promised to come in later to pick up my tickets. We say good-bye and I got up to pack in a daze. My mind and heart are gone but my body continues to go through the motions of being alive.
Later:
The numbness has yet to leave my heart, I could not shed any tears as I watched the coffins being lowered into their graves. It was a nice funeral, just what they would have wanted but it seemed hollow. I listened with ears that felt like wads of cotton had been stuck into them, none of the words the minister offered held any comfort or solace for me. I felt dead inside of a living world.
I didn't return to work, there was so much at home that needed to be done and it wouldn't be fair to keep Mr. Wilkins waiting for me to come back. My friends have been asking me to come home, telling me that I can't dwell in the past. They say what's done is done and tell me to move on, to get over it.
Don't they know that I can't? I've tried but I just can't. It's like there's this wall of grief that I can't tear down no matter how hard I try. I know that my family is gone. I accept the fact that I will never see them again in this life. But I hate being the one who's been left behind. I feel betrayed. I always thought that their faith would keep them strong and safe.
There is one thing that bothers me. Why was I left behind? I'm not the strong one, they were. I wonder if it was something that I did, was I responsible for their deaths? I was tempted to fall to my knees and ask. But I couldn't, there was so much anger inside me against Aslan. I don't understand why He let this happen to them. And I felt ashamed of myself, I couldn't bring myself to talk to Him.
Go to bed, I tell myself, things will look better in the morning.
You've been saying that for a long time, another voice tells me. If things were going to improve, don't you think they would've already? To drown out the voices, I climb into bed and go to sleep. For once it is a calm night.
I am asleep, and yet I am not asleep. I can see my family and they are in a most beautiful place. I want to call out to them, but stop in shame. They look so happy and peaceful. I want to join them but look down at myself and see nothing more than a shadow in the shade of their bright sunlight. I don't belong there with them, I wonder if I ever did.
I begin to cry, feeling so ashamed. All the things that I thought had made me happy were but pale imitations of this, the real thing. Let me out of here! I scream, wondering why I am being forcefully reminded of all the things that I've lost. Why? Why did you desert me?
"I never deserted you, Susan." I woke up when I heard the familiar, gentle voice in the darkness. I wonder if I'm finally cracking up, but my heart leaps at the sound. I burrow down into the covers, scared that it'll leave me if I speak. I feel the shell around my heart cracking and feel afraid.
"Susan." This time it was just my name. But I know that voice and tentatively peak out over my blanket. In the shadows on the wall, I could swear that I see Aslan's loving face.
"Go away. I'm angry with you." I said, feeling the tight knot inside dissolving under His warmth. I tried to hang on to my anger, but I didn't really want to. I wanted to be whole and alive again. I wanted to feel the sun inside once more and I knew that He could help me. He was asking for my permission to heal me, He had done that before. I just had to have the courage to ask Him for it, to accept it.
"What have I done to deserve your anger, Susan?" That soft voice never changed, neither did the look in His eyes. They held me with their gentleness and love.
"You could have stopped them from dying and you didn't." Was my hurt response before the dam inside of me broke and a flood of hurt was unleashed. The words came suddenly and I couldn't stop talking once I had begun. He listened to me. After a while, they stopped, I felt weak and utterly spent. There was nothing left inside me except a feeling of relief that I'd finally spoken and let out the bile that was poisoning me.
He spoke softly in the quiet room. "Maybe. But sometimes bad things must happen to bring forth a better world."
"But why did you have to take them? Was it something I did?" My question was quiet and full of sorrow.
Then He moved towards me with His arms outstretched. I jumped up and ran into His loving arms, crying with relief as His paws enfolded me. "My dear daughter, Susan."
I looked up into His gentle face, amazed that His voice was still patient and loving. "How can you still care for me after all the things I've done?"
"Because I do. Susan, how can you believe that you are not worthy of My love?"
"I did not stay true to you or the things that I learned. I have not the courage of Lucy or the wisdom of Peter. I am not like Edmund, full of bravery. I am just me, gentle and kind." My voice was full of self-loathing, I knew what I was and hated it.
Aslan was quiet, so quiet that I thought I had made Him angry with my words. And yet, when He spoke it was not to scold me. He simply asked how long I'd been envious of my siblings' gifts.
Envious? I pondered that question for a moment before answering Him. "I guess ever since we returned from Narnia the first time. They could rejoin life and fit in, yet I noticed how different I was from everyone around me. I don't have the strength that they have to stand up and lead out."
"You have more strength than you realize, Susan. But you spend too much time comparing yourself unfavorably with others." Aslan explained patiently. "Kindness and gentleness has its place in this world, this world needs it more than you and others realize. And you must live in this world. I am here to see that you do."
There was a finality in His voice that struck me. "What do you mean? What happened to Narnia?"
"Its time has come, Narnia and all it's people are in my land. You saw them, they are happy but not joyful. That will only come when you have come home to them. So live, Susan, live."
"I will try, if you'll stay by my side." I answer quietly, laying my head on His warm side.
"I will always be with you, as I have always been." His voice purred softly, I felt His breath stirring my hair. "Though you may not always see me, you will always know that I am with you." It was the last thing I heard before I fell asleep, the first peaceful sleep I'd had in a very long time.
Part 2:
I stared out the window, my wrinkled hands touching the cool glass. Outside the children were playing on the wide, snowy lawn. I had moved into Professor Kirk's old place, the one place I would forever associate with my happiest days before the confusion of my later days. Yes, it brought back painful memories but the good times balanced those out. I knew that here I would learn to live again.
Once I arrived, I restored the house to its former glory. As harsh as this may sound, when they died, they left me a very wealthy woman. But I didn't turn the home into a museum, I offered it as a home for wayward children. Much to my surprise, the idea was welcomed without too much fuss and children came. And since that day, the house was filled with their laughter, easing my grief and warming my soul. I came to call them all my own for they were in a way my children.
And one day, he came with his sister. A young boy who was like me, gentle and kind in his manner. He was introspective and withdrawn when he came. But she was vivacious and generous, and my children loved her from the first moment she smiled at them. It was like having Lucy around again.
His name was Julian and she was Jillian. I went out of my way to make them feel welcomed and a vital part of our home. I especially focused on the boy because I saw myself in him. The children warmed to him as he did them. In this caring environment, he built up the strength I had often seen in Peter and Edmund.
On a spring day, I think it was about two years after he arrived, he found the wardrobe. I knew he would but I thought it would be earlier than it was. In the end, it doesn't matter. I was sitting in the study, going over the finances when he knocked on the door. Tears came to my eyes as I remembered that was where Professor Kirk was sitting when we approached him about our concerns over Lucy's 'imaginations' about Narnia.
Pushing aside those memories, I asked him to come in. He walked over and sat down very quietly on the chair in front of the desk, waiting for me to finish. Instead, I put my work to the side and looked at him. The work would wait, his questions would not.
(remembering)
"Is there something wrong, Julian?" I asked softly, not willing to push him to hard.
He nodded. "There's something peculiar about the wardrobe in the attic."
"I know." Smiling, I looked out the window for a moment. "Would you like to hear about it?"
There was definite interest in his eyes when I turned back to face him. "Yes, please."
I told him all. The most miraculous thing was his belief in all I said. I knew I had been right to trust the legacy to him. Narnia and its lessons would live on. There was another legacy I was leaving to him and his sister, this home and all I had would be theirs. All the arrangements had been made, I would leave no loose ends for them to take care of.
A snowball hitting the window brought a smile to my face when I saw Jillian standing there, a big smile on her face, her husband by her side. Julian was off attending a seminar in Oxford but would come as soon as he was free. I waved and turned to go when a sharp pain hit me in the chest. Clutching at the sill, I fell unconscious to the ground. When I opened my eyes I felt odd, like I wasn't truly there. The sound of my children crying reached my ears. I tried to reach out to them, to smile reassuringly but I found that I couldn't move or speak.
"Julian!" I heard Jillian cry in surprise. My eyes moved towards the door. He was standing there, pale as death as he looked at me on the bed.
"How is she?" He asked, coming into the room to stand beside her.
She stifled a sob and answered him. "The doctor says she won't ever wake up." It was like saying the words broke whatever control she had, Jillian turned away in tears. "I can't do this, not again."
Julian sat down, holding his sister. He was holding back the tears, trying not to let the grief out yet.
The sorrow in the room was more than I could bear. "Oh, Aslan. Let me help them. Help me to help them." I prayed and found that I could move. Gently I touched his shoulder, reassuring him that all was well. My heart spoke to my son's heart, telling him that I was going home.
He shook his head, not ready to believe what his heart was telling him. But then he spoke with a smile that warmed their hearts. "She isn't really gone, not really. The spirit that gave her life, has gone home. She's returned to Narnia."
I knew then that he truly believed what he was saying, he wasn't just saying the words to comfort them. My little ones, surrounded him as he slid to the floor. "Narnia is a fair land created long before you or I or even Grandmother Susan was born. But she and her family visited."
"Susan, it is time." Aslan's voice called me. "Come home."
With a last, loving glance at my adopted family, I followed him into the lightening dawn. We came to a stop in front of a door. At His glance, I opened it and entered. Before me was a land like unto Narnia, yet it was purer than the land she fondly remembered. "Where?"
"This is My land, Susan. Welcome home." He urged me on, though I trembled and did not want to go.
In the distance, I could hear familiar voices. "No. I can't." It wasn't that I didn't want to, I just couldn't get my feet to move on their own.
Aslan looked at me, understanding in His deep eyes. He didn't say anything, just looked at me.
I understood. "I must." It was not a happy thought, I was afraid of my family's reaction when they saw me. He nudged me and I moved until I saw them. They were together as in my dream. I looked down at myself, expecting to see what I had before. Much to my surprise, I was as substantial as they were.
"Your journey is not yet finished. Go on." Aslan encouraged, once more pushing me. My family seemed to freeze the moment my foot hit the dewy grass. As one, they turned to see who the newcomer was.
Though I wanted nothing more than to run away and hide, I forced myself to keep going. Lucy blinked, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Then she was running towards me, a smile of welcome on her face. The rest of my family followed after her quickly. I was suddenly hugged and surrounded by their love. I was finally home.
The End.
I would like to thank everyone once more for your kind words and help.
2 things in reference to Rendia and elisabeth's words: The joy reference stayed because I believe in joy-even if C. S. Lewis does not. As for Aslan's shape, I felt having Him appear in the form she knows would be more effective than His form in our world. It seemed to me to be implied that they did not know who He was in our world. He said as much to Lucy and Edmund that He was known in another form in our world but they would have to learn it.
As for reviewer number 59, I don't know what to tell you. I think you might have ended up in the wrong story. There has never been a part 15 to this story.