Disclaimer: everything in Narnia belongs to C.S. Lewis, some things possibly to Walt Disney Pictures, Walden Media, and 20th Century Fox. I'm just borrowing. Not making any money. Don't sue.

Chapter III

Home

By chimère

It is dark. I can feel cool air, hear nightly sounds, and the sky above my head is studded with stars so bright I know I am not on Earth anymore.

"Aslan?"

As the name passes my lips, I realise it is not quite dark. I can see the path before my feet, enough to walk without tripping. And somehow I know why it is I can see without a source of light at hand. I don't look to my side, but I extend my right arm and let out a breath as my hand meets a lion's mane. I curl my fingers in it and begin to walk, guided by him.

Aslan doesn't speak and I don't dare to. The path seems strangely familiar, but I cannot place it. I don't know where I am, I have no expectations, only – I am surprised to recognise it – hope. Hope that I will see my family again. I haven't truly realised how bleak everything has been without it.

The sky slowly grows lighter in what I suppose is east. And against the sky I can see a dark shape so achingly familiar that I suddenly understand why I recognised the path. Cair Paravel.

Aslan stops before the gate of the castle. It is still almost dark, but I can see his eyes clearly. "Welcome home, daughter."

At the soft, deep voice my legs suddenly go weak and I drop to my knees before the Lion. "Why?" is all I can think to ask. "I don't deserve this."

"You took the long path, Susan, but you have reached your destination. Through more pain than the others, but that was your choice. This is your home, where you are meant to be. Do not doubt it."

Aslan breathes on me, and I find myself clinging to him. He patiently lets me sob out all my guilt and hurt and regret. When I finally straighten, he says only, "Go now. They will be awake soon."

I stand on slightly unsteady legs and walk through the castle gate. Cair Paravel is just as I remember it, only without the sentries. This place is so much like Narnia, but apparently there is no need for weapons to guard our safety here.

I walk in a daze through the familiar corridors. I step on the threshold of the Great Hall and see my own throne in the light of the few lamps left burning, right there next to the others on the dais, and it's too much. I don't belong here anymore, I'm not a queen, I spat on all of Narnia and nothing can make that right, and suddenly I'm deathly afraid of meeting my siblings.

I flee to the kitchens. I need to focus on doing something before I go mad, and the kitchens are definitely more my place than a throne room. So I start to make breakfast. The rising sun fills the room with rosy light, so beautiful I could weep.

Suddenly there is a gasp from the doorway and I look up to see Fendik, a dwarf cook from the time of our reign. I can only stare, my hands gripping a bowl and my eyes tearing up. The look of astonishment on his face incredibly melts into a smile and he bows deeply.

"Queen Susan, we have waited for you too long."

I helplessly try to gesture that I am the last person he should bow to, but suddenly he glances over his shoulder into the corridor, flashes me a grin and quickly steps out of the kitchens again.

I have no time to recollect myself before Edmund walks in. Seeing me, he stops short and sucks in a breath. This time, I drop the bowl, which shatters on the tiled floor. But I barely notice, as I feel I might faint.

My little brother, dressed in fine but casual clothes, not wearing his crown, but still every inch King Edmund the Just. Dark hair mussed up from sleeping and wide dark eyes staring into mine and oh Aslan, how I have missed him!

A small, inarticulate wail escapes my throat, but I dare not move closer to him. He will push me away, the sister who abandoned him, who ridiculed everything he holds dear, they will all push me away and they have every right to.

I have never appreciated until this moment how much courage it must have taken Edmund to walk up to us after he had been rescued from the Witch's camp. All I know is that I do not have such courage.

"Susan," Edmund suddenly rasps, his voice so familiar and strange at the same time. I have never heard him speak in quite such a tone before. And then he is in front of me and pulling me into a hug and I collapse against him, mumbling, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

When he lets me go, there is a wide grin on his face and he doesn't even acknowledge my attempts at an apology. He darts back into the corridor and hollers, "Oi, Peter! Lucy! There's a really good reason to hurry up!"

My trembling only grows worse during the minute we wait the rest of our siblings to arrive. I can hear Lucy's skipping steps and Peter's good-natured teasing, "What's got you so wound up at this time of the morning, Ed? You're usually not even awake yet!" I sit on a kitchen stool in order not to collapse.

And then I hear two soft gasps before Lucy's elated cry "Susan!" As my beautiful, valiant, faithful little sister throws her arms around me, I finally begin to weep uncontrollably. She is crying, too, but even Lucy's tears have a quality of release and hope. I have only ever dimmed her joyful radiance, what right do I have to be held by her?

"I'm sorry," I repeat the inadequate words, finding nothing else to say.

"What are you sorry for, Susan?"

Peter. He is looking at me solemnly, blue eyes bright with tears. I remember the disappointment and tears of regret in those same eyes – I put them there. Right now, despite his display of emotion, I am half-crazed with my guilt and sorrow and I don't see my elder brother, but the High King of Narnia. I will confess my crimes and await his judgement.

"For being horrible," I whisper. "For pushing you all away. For denying what I knew was real, for wanting to forget Narnia and Aslan. For being neither a queen of Narnia nor your sister."

"But you're here now," Lucy pipes up immediately. Always so quick to forgive, dearest heart.

"You forgave me for worse," Edmund says easily.

I am still waiting for Peter's response, and I am shocked to hear it. "We're sorry for leaving you behind, Susan," he says seriously. "It cannot have been easy. And yet you still got here. Doing that, you've already made up for everything you talked about."

I shake my head dumbly.

"Stop it, Susan," Peter says, and there is a catch in his voice. "You're our sister. We've missed you."

With a small cry I throw myself into Peter's arms and I am not pushed away. Edmund and Lucy pile onto us and I suddenly laugh through my tears. I am home.