Disclaimer: I do not, nor never will, own the Chronicles of Narnia books, movies, video games, or action figures. It's really a shame.
You find out in life that people really like you funny. So what do you give 'em? Humor. And then if you show them the other side, they don't like you as much. I find, too, that I can hide behind the idiot's mask being funny, and you never see the sorrow or the pain - Terry Bradshaw
How long had it been, Peter Pevensie thought as he stood at the front door. Six months? Five? He didn't knock or ring the bell, for he was taking in the last remnants of school and the cold harsh shock of rhythm and facts. The minute he stepped through the door, Peter would be swept up in a whirlwind of presents, memories, and the ever present itch at the back of his mind. Lucy would once again sneak into his and Edmund's room, where they would reminisce about past battles, balls, and jokes. Would Susan join us, the young man thought. The last time he spoke to her – the night before he left again for the warfront – she had said her farewells with a superficial smile as she applied some mascara to her already long lashes. She was going off to a party at one of her friend's houses – was it Edith? Or Judith? – and didn't have the time to wallow over his departure. Susan always had better things to do, he reminded himself. No, she won't be joining us, he thought bitterly.
Entering inside, Lucy squealed as her and Ed jumped down the stairs, skipping one step at a time. It seemed to Peter that every time he came to visit, the two looked like they never changed. Perhaps that was the lighting. He recalled back in Narnia, when the four of them always seemed several years older in the beautiful gowns and handsome tunics. It was the Narnian air, really, but the two of them still looked liked children in their England wardrobe. Peter had to remind himself that his brother was already eighteen, while his youngest sister was already thinking of university. As he greeted the two, the king couldn't help but notice the absence of Susan.
Hugging his parents, the party retreated to the parlor, where Peter's father questioned to him as to how his studies were doing. While in the middle of speaking of a prank that a classmate of his did on the teacher, the door slammed shut. Peter's eyes drifted over to the foyer, but his family wasn't too surprised when seeing Susan glide in with a dazed expression on her face. She looked so...pale and dry. The chemicals coating her skin made her entire face seem twenty times more exaggerated, and if the situation was more jovial, he would have teased her on looking like a Taarkheena. He bit his tongue, however. Susan wouldn't remember what a Taarkheena was.
His younger sister beamed at him. "Peter! You're back!" Rushing over to him, Susan enveloped him in a tight hug. He almost smiled, thinking that maybe she did remember. About to tease her on her appearance, Peter abruptly stopped when Susan quickly kissed the air beside his two cheeks. The Susan he knew never did that. His blue eyes turned cold, glowering at her.
Resting her hands on her hips, she rolled her eyes. "It wasn't that much." Peter didn't know what she was talking about, until the sudden smell of heavy alcohol hit him. Her entire body seemed shrouded in the retched aroma, and he desperately wanted to barf. She drank a little during balls, but Peter knew that the rare occasions Susan was intoxicated, she smelled like grapes and spices, a bit like cinammon. Her face was angelic and innocent when he tucked her into her bed after a ball. Now, though, his sister's blue eyes, once warm, were glazed, a small fire building in the irises.
"How-what?" he choked out. How could she? How could his baby sister do this? How could she just waltz around, carefree, acting like a child, when truthfully, she was 20?
Before Susan could retort something back, his mother gently coaxed her upstairs, telling her to come and join the family after she changed. When Peter plopped back into his seat, Edmund's and Lucy's eyes were apologetic and pitiful.
It was nearing midnight when his parents went to sleep. The three gathered in the living room, nestled into one another, as a fire warmed the room.
"-and do you remember? Susan practically murdered you, Ed, when you put the frog under her pillow," Lucy said, giggling as she remembered. It was a very childish prank, but on one of their last days in Cair Paravel, the youngest king had gotten annoyed at his elder sister for forcing him to go over linen samples for the new sheets. When Susan fell asleep that night, she woke up the entire castle with her screams.
Peter chuckled, to Edmund's irritation.
The young king glared into the fire. "I thought it was funny," he muttered.
Nuzzling into Peter, Lucy sighed. "Do you think Cair Paravel is still standing?" she questioned.
Edmund frowned, not really wanting to think of such a thing. "I would think so. It's strong. And I'm sure Rillian's doing a jolly good job taking care of everything."
Lucy bit her lip, still in thought. "But it's been such a long time. What if something's wrong with Narnia?" she wondered out loud.
Kissing her temple, Peter smiled. "Narnia would never fall. Aslan would make sure of it."
"Oh Peter. Stop encouraging them," a voice said. The group's eyes shot to the back of the room, where a disapproving Susan sat, sipping a cup of tea.
Trying to meet her empty eyes, Peter pursed her lips. "Su, would you like to join us?" he asked politely.
"Please. Unlike some people," she said, wagging her finger, "I'm actually learning in school. Perhaps you should do the same. I'm sure your professors have told you that an object can't be bigger on the inside." Knowingly smirking, Susan took another sip.
Tearing his eyes away from his sister, the king gazed into the fire. He couldn't stand staring into her gaze. She looked like an alien, not even human, really. It was disgusting.
"You remember the wardrobe," Lucy gaped at her hopefully. Oh no, Lucy. She didn't.
Susan rolled her eyes. "Really, Lucy. I fear you'll never find yourself a husband. I mean, you still act like a child."
The young girl's lip quivered. "But-but it really was there." That statement brought Peter back to another instance when she said the same thing. Back then, he, like Susan, didn't believe her.
"Honestly, Lucy. I would think you should have grown out of our dreams and stories. It really was all the Professor's fault, you know," Susan replied matter-of-factly.
Edmund's brows furrowed in confusion. "How was it the Professor's fault?"
The older girl laughed. "You know, encouraging us. He kept telling us how he 'saw it all being born'. I always thought he was a horrible adult. Still can't believe the lot of us believed him," she said with a shake of her head.
A tear began to roll down Lucy's cheek. "But-but Aslan..."
Susan cocked her head. "Aslan? Ah yes, that lion." She began to chuckle to herself. "How naive we all were. Although, the war affected everyone. I was quite stupid for thinking a lion could talk. It's like..." she drifted off, attempting to find an example.
"It's like having trees move!" Susan exclaimed, and she fell into a fit of laughter.
That did it. Sobbing into Peter's shoulder, Lucy broke. Edmund stared at his elder sister in disbelief, not believing his eyes. Glaring at Susan, Peter could sense his resolve crack.
"Susan, stop it. It's insensitive for you to say things like that. Lucy was the closest to Aslan, you would know that," Peter said slowly. Any second now, he too would break, although not in tears like his sister. He was worried that his anger would cloud his judgement.
Susan disapprovingly clucked at her brother. "You have to grow up, Peter. Become an adult. I know it's hard, leaving behind all those childhood fairytales, but let me tell you, the adult world is real. It's honest and real."
"Really? England is real?" Peter spat out the words, the last drops of patience with it.
Susan nodded. "Well, of course. See. We're in England. I can smell it. I can touch it. I can see it. Can your 'Narnia' do the same?"
The king rose up to his full height, towering over at Susan. It didn't intimidate her whastoever. Instead, she patiently sat, waiting for him to let out his anger, as if he was a child.
"So, you're an adult in the real world now, huh?" he growled. "So, going to parties, dancing, putting on makeup, flirting, shopping, that's real?" Peter screamed in her ear.
Susan quizzically nodded, not quite sure where this was going.
"Narnia's not real, huh?" he whispered loudly.
"Of course not. It's impo-" But her brother interrupted her.
Peter's cold blue eyes started to rage at her. She was betraying them. She was betraying herself, the entire person she was, all she had faith in. How could she? How could she?
"So the battles, the deaths, the blood they weren't real? Edmund almost dying in front of your eyes, that wasn't real? Aslan dying for you, not just for Ed, that wasn't real? Rabadash using you to get to the throne, that wasn't real? The memories, the birthdays, the joy we shared, none of that was REAL?!" Peter roared at her. He had to get to her. He had to remind her of everything she was missing, everything she was forgetting.
Susan glared angrily at him. "Lower your voice, Mum and Dad will wake up," she whispered quickly, her whisper ten octaves lower than her brother's. Despite the lack in volume, however, it was Susan's comment that hurt more. It was Susan's that ripped Peter apart.
Sighing, he lowered his voice. "If this was just a game, how could we create a whole life, gruesome deaths, and betrayals as children? Hmm? How could we have so much faith in Aslan, if he didn't even exist? Answer me that."
For the first time that night, his sister looked flustered. But only for a second. Putting on a blank face, Susan got up to meet her brother's eyes. "And Mum and Dad say you're the intelligent one."
Turning to go, Susan was about to go upstairs, when a hand grasped hers. Gasping in shock, she tried to wriggle out of Peter's grasp, to no avail.
His sad blue eyes stared into her soulless ones. "You know, eventually, masks have to be taken off," he muttered, low enough for her to hear. Letting go, Peter watched Susan run up the stairs and slam the door.
Please, Aslan. Do something. And quick. For if the wise lion didn't, the magnificent king was worried that it would be too late.
Author's Note: This chapter almost made me cry. Susan makes me so mad and frustrated and annoyed, because really, how could she be so blind?