Epilogue

Susan stretched out on her bed. That was the most amazing dream, she thought. She kept her eyes closed to trap the images in her head a bit longer. With the house all to herself after everyone had left for the train station, she had decided to take a nap and no sooner had her head hit the pillow than she was transported back to the place she had most wanted to forget. She dreamed that everyone was back in Narnia, even Leona. Susan was there too, though no one seemed to be able to see her. It was as though she followed her siblings through this new Real Narnia like an unseen ghost. But, oh, the things that she had seen! The Narnia she had loved destroyed, yet it had only been an image of something even better. Everyone she cared about was dead, but yet more truly alive than ever before. Peter and Leona battling evil in Aslan's name. Aslan himself... Susan had forgotten how much she had missed Aslan. Of all the things that ripped her heart out when she thought of her time as Queen, it was the thought that Aslan, of all creatures, had been the one to banish her that hurt the most. But for the first time in years, it didn't hurt to remember. Somehow the dream had closed that open wound in her spirit and she could think of Narnia without pain and even with a hope that someday she could come back.

Susan sat up and thought hard. She always hated liars, but by wallowing in her own pain she had become one. It was time to face the facts, and she felt she owed her siblings a big apology. She got out of bed and went down to the kitchen for some paper so she could write a letter to Peter.

She settled down at the kitchen table and managed to get as far as Dear Peter, I am so sorry... before words failed her completely. What to say? How could she manage to admit that everything she had denied and been anything but a fantasy? Then she thought of Peter sitting in the living room when she had confessed to him that she didn't want to remember Narnia. He had said, "I understand. Sleep and forget, but remember, once a king or queen, always a king or queen. Your crown will be waiting when you are ready to pick it up again." She needed to ask for forgiveness, but in her heart she knew it had already been granted. It wasn't too late to rejoin her royal family.

She put her pen to paper again, but there was a knock on the door. Brow wrinkling in surprise, she left her letter on the table and went to answer it. The policeman on the doorstep took his hat off as she pulled open the door.

"Miss Pevensie?" he asked.

"Well, one of them at any rate, Officer," Susan replied with a nervous smile. "Can I help you?"

"I'm sorry, miss," the man said. "I have some very bad news..."

Everyone who attended the mass funeral for the Pevensies, Jill Pole, Eustace Scrubb, Digory Kirke, Polly Plummer and Leona Hart gazed in wonder at the last living member of that amazing extended family. She didn't scream or wail, or make a scene. There was never any question about her pain, a single glance at Susan's pale face and the tears that were rarely missing from her eyes told any viewer that she grieved with an intensity that was heart wrenching. It was her bearing that sent whispers through the black-clad crowd of mourners.

"She bears her sorrow like a queen," one woman murmured in awed respect. "It's as though she's decided that she can't change anything except how she acts and now acts accordingly. I've never seen her like this."

As each coffin was laid in the frozen ground, Susan would lead the mourners in placing flowers, hard to find in winter, on the graves, her face growing paler and paler by the moment, but her head never bowed, her shoulders never slumped, her strength never faltered.

Few people stayed to the end, little clumps of mourners drifting away as the coffins were covered Susan stayed. A few others kept vigil as well, either for their own reasons or simply to support her.

Susan stood as if in a dream as the last headstone was wrestled into place. She had to fight, and fight hard for the bodies of those Narnians not of her own family, but fight she had and won. She almost felt guilty for playing the pity card with her aunt and uncle and Jill Pole's family, but it got her what she wanted: all of them buried together. The dignity, grace and determination that had served her well as Queen of Narnia had come back with the dream. She denied it no longer, even to herself. Narnia was real, no matter how hard she had once willed herself to believe otherwise. All that was left was to live her life in England in the same way that her siblings had done, as a Narnian. She understood now. She didn't need to be in Narnia to still be its queen, and there were many more important things in life than the latest styles and the prettiest clothes. A queen was a queen, whether she was in silks or in sack-cloth, whether she was home in her royal bed, or living in some other world entirely. Once a queen of Narnia, always a queen.

She stared almost blankly at the headstones that covered the mortal bodies of everyone who was of any real importance in her life. So deep was she in her thoughts that she almost jumped when a hand gently touched her arm. She turned to look at the strange young man that had come to stand beside her.

"It's over now," he said, quietly. "It's getting cold; you had better come inside to the wake."

"Do I know you?" Susan asked, softly.

The man, who looked to be about Peter's age, blushed and seemed rather flustered and sheepish. "Oh, no, I don't think you do. I'm Anthony Jones; I'm a friend of Peter and Leona from university."

"Ah, I think I've heard them talking about you every so often," Susan told him, now placing the young man as the friend that had introduced her brother to the woman he loved so dearly. She didn't mean to seem rude, but her eyes turned back to the gravestones again, almost unwillingly.

With the dream as a warning she hadn't been surprised to find Leona among the dead when she had gone to claim the bodies of her family. The rescuer that had found her said that she had died draped over the body of Susan's older brother, as if protecting him from any further harm. Since Leona had no other family in this world, Susan had claimed her body as well.

Anthony turned to look at the graves as well. "May I offer my condolences? I'm sure you will hear this from everybody, but I'm amazed at how well you are taking loosing everyone like this. Peter always said that you were the strong one in the family and I guess this proves it. It would destroy me utterly to be in your shoes." Anthony stopped talking suddenly, as if realizing that Susan may not have wanted to be reminded of her loss in so blunt a manner.

She didn't seem offended, and simply said, "I thought that something like this would destroy me too. But, in a way, I know that it can be done. You can lose everything and still go on. You simply have to want to, and know that death really isn't the end or even good-bye, just a momentary parting in the grand scheme of things. I'll live in hope that I'll see them again in time."

Anthony looked at her in wonder, amazed that someone so young could have such a grasp on the mysteries of life and death. Trying to get the conversation, if a conversation it could be called, back onto a level he felt comfortable with, he said, "I like the titles on the gravestones. I only knew Peter and Leona but there was something about the both of them, and you too, come to think of it. It felt almost royal, like a dignity that circumstances couldn't take away, and an inner knowledge and faith that was a wonder to behold. I always wondered what made them so different from the rest of us, what they knew that made it easier for them to be such good people. I guess I'll never know now..."

Susan turned and truly looked at the young man by her side. He was staring at the two graves at the end that covered Peter and Leona, side by side. The look on his face was pitiful, full of grief and a loss of hope. She reached out and laid a hand on his arm.

"I know," she said. "And maybe, someday, I'll be able to tell you." She saw the hope return to his eyes and his shoulders straightened, almost imperceptibly.

"I'd like that," Anthony said simply.

A cold breeze sped through the air and Susan could almost hear the echo of a Lion's roar in her ears as she met the eyes of the man beside her in the now deserted graveyard.

"I think I'm ready to go inside now," she said. "There's nothing left to do out here."

As Anthony offered her his arm to lead her inside to the wake, Susan turned one last time back to the graves. Your journey's are over, she thought. Mine is just starting anew, but with effort and hope, we will all end the journey in the same place. Farewell for now, my royal family. She turned her head back towards the building where people were setting out food and drink.

Neither Susan nor Anthony looked back again, and in the graveyard the wind whistled through and around eight gravestones. Susan had been insistent over the engravings included with the usual birth and death dates, and like Anthony had pointed out, somehow, everyone thought them appropriate.

Digory Kirke

Lord Digory the Wise

Polly Plummer

Lady Polly the Cheerful

Jill Pole

Lady Jill the Bold

Eustace Scrubb

Lord Eustace the Loyal

Lucy Pevensie

Queen Lucy the Valiant

Edmund Pevensie

King Edmund the Just

Peter Pevensie

High King Peter the Magnificent

Leona Hart

Lady Leona the Guardian

The End.