AN: Just FYI... if you HAVEN'T read "Choosing Grace," which is the prequel to this story, I would suggest you stop reading this immediately and go read "Choosing Grace" first. This chapter (and probably the first and all further chapters) will mean so much more if you do!
Stepping out of a small dress store, Susan walked happily down the street, a spring in her step. She had just purchased a new dress, a pale pink creation of satin and chiffon, for the Clayworths' party at the end of the week. The older couple were the head of the Art Guild and were having a charity fundraiser party. Only the most exclusive event of the season! Susan thought excitedly. She had been ecstatic when her invitation had come in the mail and had talked non-stop about the event for weeks. Susan had become friends with Charity, the appropriately named daughter of the Clayworths, over the past several months and was happy that her new friendship was beginning to pay off.
The wailing of sirens shook Susan out of her happy reverie as she stopped at the street corner, waiting to cross. She looked up and saw several fire engines and ambulances race down the street, crowds of people forming just ahead. Hurrying towards them to find out what was happening, she realized where she was. Just ahead was the train station. When she reached the crowd, she tapped a man standing in front of her on the shoulder. When he turned, she asked, "What's happened here?"
"Haven't you heard? There was a train accident! One of the engines took a turn too fast and came off the tracks," he explained, seeming to be excited over the accident.
"Which train was it?" Susan asked, her heart racing wildly as she tried to remember which train her brothers were waiting on. Which one Mother and Father are on too! she thought. "Train 6 I believe," the man said, simultaneously as Susan remembered the train number.
"Oh no!" she whispered, her bag dropping to the ground.
"Susan!" a voice called, shaking Susan out of her thoughts.
"Hm?" she asked dazedly.
"What is with you tonight?" Charity Clayworth asked, annoyed with her friend.
"Sorry, just day dreaming I suppose," Susan laughed nervously.
"Well stop it and pay attention to the party!" Charity hissed as she waved to a person across the room.
"Sorry, sorry," Susan muttered as she picked up a glass of champagne from the passing tray a waiter was carrying. Months had passed since the funerals and it was now Christmastime. It had taken a while, but Susan had finally gotten back into her old routine of attending meetings, going to parties, and filling her life with all the things she loved. Or had loved. After losing her family, she found that she no longer cared about which parties she was invited to, even though she was invited to them all. She no longer cared for the superficial charities and societies she had once belonged to, finding them to be a waste of time and quite meaningless. The simple pleasures she had once taken joy in now held no happiness for her and she found them mostly tedious and pointless. Tonight's party was no exception. She was attending the Clayworths' annual Christmas party and was exceedingly bored. Plastering on a smile, she began mingling, waving at her friends she had not seen in ages, making small talk about the weather, and sharing a dance or two with the few men in her circle she found to be the least repulsive. Was it this hard in Narnia? she thought as she smiled politely over a rather dull story she was being told. No, she inwardly sighed. Our parties were wonderful.
"May I have this dance?" a melodious voice came from behind her. Susan turned and saw a pair of deep shining eyes staring at her. As she focused on the face they were on, she smiled warmly. Caspian, she sighed silently. "You may," Susan said, placing her hand in Caspian's outstretched one. Don't trip, don't trip, don't trip! her mind screamed as she focused on walking gracefully onto the floor with him. As they danced, Susan searched her mind for something to say, but everything she thought of sounded ridiculous.
"Are you having a nice time tonight?" Caspian asked, breaking their silence. Susan nodded.
"I am. I think this is one of the best birthday parties we've thrown yet!" she said, a little over enthusiastically. Caspian didn't seem to notice as he smiled and nodded in agreement. They were celebrating his 18th birthday tonight and guests from all over had arrived to celebrate their newest king.
"I am a bit worried about Edmund though," Caspian said, a sly grin on his face. Susan's heart nearly stopped as she looked to his handsome face. Focus Susan, focus, she mentally scolded herself. "Edmund? Why?" she asked worriedly.
"I think he's had a bit too much wine. Last time I saw him he was leading Lord Dalma's son out into the garden, swaying pretty badly," Caspian snickered.
"Why would he-" Susan began, but was cut off quickly as a cry came from the back of the room. Caspian and Susan both turned quickly towards the cry, just in time to see the crowd part as a dirty tunic floated in the room. "What in the world?" Caspian said, his voice edged with anger. More cries went out as the tunic floated further in the room. Susan noticed that it seemed to not quite float, but looked as though something was inside of it, flapping the sleeves to make it fly.
"A bird!" she said.
"What?" Caspian asked, turning towards her.
"There's a bird in that tunic! That's why it's floating!" she laughed.
"Aslan's mane!" Caspian growled, marching towards the floating tunic. He reached up and pulled it down, an angry squawk coming from inside. Caspian pulled the bird out (which turned out to be a normal bird, not a Talking Bird) and let it go, its wings flapping frantically as it flew out of the room.
"That's my son's!" a man cried as he rushed towards Caspian. He handed Lord Dalma the tunic so that he could inspect it. Caspian turned to Susan, who's face had turned white at hearing Lord Dalma's cry. Caspian mouthed "Edmund" and motioned with his head towards the door leading to the gardens.
"Where is he?" Lord Dalma said loudly, frantically glancing about the room in search of his son. "I believe he went to the gardens, my Lord Dalma," Caspian said, placing a hand on Lord Dalma's shoulder. The two men and Susan walked to the gardens, followed closely by many of the other guests who were anxious to find out what had happened to the boy. When they reached the gardens, what they saw made them suddenly stop in fear. Susan cried out and grasped Caspian's arm in shock. In the middle of the garden was the head of a young boy.
"My son!" Lord Dalma yelled, frozen in his spot. Several people behind them screamed as they saw the head, a lady fainting away in the arms of her husband. Suddenly, the head's eyes popped open and it smiled at them. "Hello, Father!" it called cheerfully. "Lovely night for a sit in the garden, isn't it?"
"What in the name of Aslan is this?" Lord Dalma roared, striding to his son's head. Bending down, he caught his son by the scruff of the neck (as best as he could with it still being slightly buried) and pulled, yanking him out of the loosely packed dirt. "Ow Father! That hurts!" the boy cried.
"You just wait until I get you inside," his father growled as he pulled his son towards Caspian and Susan. "Apologize to the king and queen for your blatant disregard for their gracious hospitality!" he ordered. The boy muttered his apologies, his face flaming.
Feeling sorry for him, Susan placed her hand on his shoulder and said softly, "We forgive you. But you must not ever play such nasty tricks again on your poor father. I believe a hot bath and a good night's rest are in order for you." Thanking her for her kindness, Lord Dalma bowed to Caspian and Susan before dragging his son away from the garden. As the crowd began to disperse, Susan heard quiet chuckling from behind a nearby bush.
"What in the world?" she said, repeating Caspian's words, as she walked towards the bushes. Parting them, she saw Edmund, laying on his back, his chest shaking from laughter. Turning his head, he said, "Oh, hey Su! What brings you out here? Lovely night for a sit in the garden, isn't it?"
"Edmund Pevensie!" Susan screamed at her brother, seeing a dirty shovel laying next to him. "You're responsible for this? How could you?" Caspian came up behind Susan and saw the drunken king laying on the ground, a stupid smile on his face.
"Really Edmund," Caspian said, shaking his head. "That was a pretty dirty trick to play. I'm sure Peter won't be too pleased when he finds out about this."
"Oh, who cares about High King Peter anyway?" Edmund scoffed, his words slurring.
"I suspect you should, you rotten lout!" Peter yelled from behind Susan and Caspian, pushing past them as he reached down and yanked his brother up. As Peter dragged a drunk Edmund away, Caspian let out a low chuckle.
"He's going to regret that in the morning," he said.
"Which one?" Susan smirked, knowing the next week would be filled with vicious arguments between the two brothers.
Caspian let out a bark of laughter and agreed, "Good point."
Susan smiled, remembering those happy days she had spent in Narnia. She glanced about the room, taking in the guests who were engaged in mindless discussions, and sighed slightly. If only Ed were here. He would lighten this place up, she thought, a sad smile appearing on her face.
"Pretty rotten party, isn't it?" a deep voice asked from behind her. Startled, Susan spun quickly to see a man standing next to her. He was taller than she was, but only slightly (But most men are only slightly taller than me, Susan thought smugly, pleased with her height), with dark brown hair and a kind smile. He looked mostly ordinary, in a nice way, but his eyes were what immediately caught Susan's attention. They were neither blue nor green, but a wonderful mixture of the two. Nearly the color of the great Narnian sea, Susan thought.
She smiled politely and answered, "I don't know. I think it's alright." The man chuckled and winked at her.
"Sure, if you're eighty or enjoy discussing the wonderful London weather," he teased.
"Alright. It's pretty rotten," Susan laughed. The man joined in her laughter and when it had died down, he held out his hand and said, "I'm Robert St. James." Susan shook his outstretched hand and said, "Susan Pevensie."
"Pevensie, huh? I think I've heard about you," Robert said, smirking at Susan.
"Is that so?" Susan asked nervously.
"Yes. I overheard a chap named Marcus, I believe, commenting on how lovely you look this evening," Robert said.
"Oh Marcus! He's a disgusting little pig," Susan laughed, Robert joining in with her.
Charity came up behind Susan and grasped her elbow. Giving Robert a polite smile she asked, "May I steal Susan for just a moment?" Without waiting for a reply, she pulled Susan away from where she had been standing and into a corner, out of earshot.
"Well that was rude," Susan began but was interrupted by Charity.
"I cannot believe you were talking to Robert St. James," she spat dramatically.
"He seems nice enough to me," Susan said, a touch of defensiveness in her voice.
"Oh he is, I suppose," Charity began as she dropped her voice to a whisper. Susan knew what that meant: Charity was about to begin one of her notorious gossip sessions, a trait Susan had found to be increasingly aggravating in her friend.
"Well then what's wrong with him?" Susan asked, knowing she was only feeding the fire already lit in her friend.
"He's just not the right sort of people you want to associate with. My parents only invited him and his parents tonight out of kindness; they used to be part of our circle before the war, but his father made some bad, and suspicious, investments during the war and they all went belly up. Lost all their money. Very questionable business, apparently," Charity whispered. Susan glanced at where Robert stood. He seemed at ease at the party and to be enjoying himself, but as she stared harder, she began to notice a hardness around his eyes, which periodically glanced at his wrist as though he were checking his watch. "Oh look! Marcus is here!" Charity squealed quietly as she hurried off.
Sighing, Susan moved to a nearby chair and sat, crossing her legs and taking a sip of her champagne. In all her years of attending these parties, she had not grown accustomed to the fizzy drink her friends all enjoyed. She mainly took a glass to give her hands something to do, but often forgot about sipping it, which caused it to turn warm and flat. Which it definitely is now, she thought, making a slight face towards the glass.
"Is something wrong with your drink?" came a chuckle from next to her. Looking up, she saw Robert had moved next to her. Susan smiled and said, "It's gotten a little flat. I suppose I've held on to it too long."
"Can I get you another one?" he asked, glancing around in search of a passing waiter.
"No, no," Susan said. "I think I've had one too many anyway."
"Oh? How many have you had?" Robert asked, smiling down at her. "Well, including this oneā¦" Susan's trailed off as she pretended to think, a sly smile appearing on her face. "I believe a grand total of one."
Robert barked with laughter and said, "You're alright, Miss Pevensie."
"Please, call me Susan," she said softly.
"Alright, Susan it is," Robert agreed, a wide smile on his face.
Christmas came and went, leaving a cold, wet winter in its place. That particular Christmas was especially hard for Susan, as it was the first she spent alone. Aunt Alberta had pleaded with Susan to spend Christmas Day with her and Uncle Harold, saying they needed to spend the day with the family who had been closest to Eustace (they did not understand Susan had possibly been the least closest to her cousin) and had worried she spent entirely too much time alone in her family's large house. Susan had declined, stating she just wanted to sleep late and have a quiet day at home since the weeks previous had been full of the hustle and bustle of the holiday season. She actually had hoped to spend the day reminiscing about Christmases past that she had spent with her family, both in England and in Narnia. She recalled her first Christmas in Narnia when she had met Father Christmas. Or at least I think it was Christmas. Now that I think about it, I'm not even sure if it was December, she thought, smiling. There had been many other lovely Christmases, filled with parties and feasts, much like those she attended now. Although, I was happier during those parties and feasts. Now I just feel bored.
She also remembered the holidays she had spent at home in England, with her parents who always tried to make the day special, even if there was a war going on. Those Christmases after their second return from Narnia had always been tense for Susan, as she found not being in Narnia at Christmas made her sadder. She kept her feelings from her siblings however, not wanting to them to know how she truly felt about Narnia. Every year Lucy would ask, "Remember when we got our gifts? Oh, how I wish we could have brought them with us as souvenirs!" Peter would agree and Edmund would remark how great it would have been to have had Lucy's cordial for whatever scrape or injury he currently had, while Susan would roll her eyes and claim that there was no such need for nonsense. Except for the one year when she accidentally said, "What good would it do to have them here? It's not as though Peter can walk around with a sword and a shield and I with my bow and arrows." The argument that ensued after her slip of the tongue was so terrible that Susan had managed to block it out of her memories forever.
Susan had also planned on visiting her family's graves on Christmas Day and wanted to do so alone. She knew that if her aunt and uncle went with her, she would be unable to say the things she had needed to say. Wanting to take some type of flowers with her, she visited the local florist the day before on Christmas Eve, hoping that he would have a few moments to spare so she could purchase some flowers. She unfortunately was met with a long line of Christmas shoppers when she reached the florist's shop. Sighing, she took her place at the end of the line, slightly shivering from the cold which came in from the open shop door. The line moved at a snail's pace and Susan became bored as she waited. Glancing around the room, she noticed the bright, cheery displays of Christmas flowers and wreaths hanging from every inch of the walls. Her mind immediately thought of how much Lucy would have enjoyed them and decided that she would get a special wreath for her sister.
A tap on her shoulder brought her out of her thoughts and she turned to see Robert St. James standing behind her. "I thought that was you! I saw you from outside and thought I would come say hello," he said cheerfully.
"It's good to see you again," Susan said, smiling at him.
"Buying flowers for someone special?" Robert teased as the line inched forward. A woman passed them carrying an enormous bouquet of red flowers. "My family," Susan said softly as she turned to glance towards the front of the line, only ten more people in front of her.
"Well that's nice of you. I bet they'll like that," he said.
"I suppose they'll have no opinion of them," Susan said sarcastically, her emotions flaring at discussing her family.
"Oh? Why is that? Not the flower sort of bunch?" Robert asked, his voice cautiously teasing. Susan turned towards him, a strange look on her face and said quietly, "No. They're dead." Robert was silent, unsure of how to respond to her statement. Susan continued after a few moments of silence, "I'm going to take flowers to their graves tomorrow. It's the least I can do for them now."
"I see," Robert said softly. "How did they..." he trailed off.
"Train wreck. My parents and sister were on the train and my brothers were waiting for it when the engine lost control. I was told they died instantly. No pain," Susan said, struggling to keep herself together as she talked about her family's deaths. "I'm very sorry," Robert said, placing a hand on Susan's shoulder. Susan nodded slightly, moving forward as the line crept another inch.
Susan stepped out of the taxi, her arms loaded down with flowers. Around her right arm she wore a brightly colored Christmas wreath, one she knew Lucy would have loved. Turning to the driver, whose passenger window was rolled down, she asked, "How much do I owe you?" The man looked at her sympathetically and shook his head.
"No charge, miss. A young gal like you with so many people to visit here doesn't need to be paying for a trip like this. Merry Christmas!" he said, waving kindly at Susan. Her eyes filled with tears as she nodded her thanks to him and turned, shutting the taxi door behind her. She stepped forward and stopped, gasping quickly. Robert was standing at the gates of the cemetery where her family was buried, leaning against one of the stone walls that surrounded it.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, her emotions a mixture of crossness and surprise. Robert shrugged and pushed himself off the wall. "I don't know. I just thought you could use a friend today," he said, taking some of Susan's flowers out of her arms.
"Thank you," she said, glad of his help. Her arms were killing her from the weight of the flowers. "And you're right. A friend is what I need today. Although," she added hesitantly.
"Yes?" Robert asked, concerned.
"If you don't mind, when we get to their graves, could I- could I have some time alone?"
"Of course!" Robert said. "You don't even need to ask. I'll let you have as much time as you need."
"Thank you," Susan said again, her eyes filling again with tears. Robert seemed to not notice (and if he did he was kind enough to not comment on it) and followed her as she led him through the cemetery gates and through the maze of graves until they reached the Pevensies.
Susan placed the largest of the bouquet next to her parents' headstone, silently staring at the words. She was unsure of what to do, whether she should say something or remain silent. Taking a deep breath, she turned towards Robert and asked, "Could I?"
"Sure, of course. I'll just be over there. Let me know if you need me or when you're ready to leave," he said, handing her the remaining flowers he still held. Susan gave him a small smile and watched as he turned to leave. When he was a good distance away, she turned to her siblings' graves and sighed. "Well, Merry Christmas," she said quietly. "Lucy, I thought you might like this. I know how much you liked colors at Christmas." She placed the wreath on Lucy's headstone, smiling at the cheer it brought to the dreary gray marble. On her each of brothers' graves she placed a small bouquet of red flowers, a bright stain on the cold grass that had started to grow over their graves.
"Edmund, I know you lost so much coming back here. I envy your faith in Narnia. I wish I could have been more like you," she whispered, hoping that somehow her younger brother could hear her words. "The only comfort I can find is that Georgiana lived and died in Narnia and is with you in Aslan's Country, if that's where you three now are." Turning to Peter's grave, she read the words on the headstone.
"Peter Pevensie," it read. "Born 1927, Died 1949. Beloved son and brother."
"Those words do you no justice. You're so much more than a son and brother. You're a true king. I've always thought that of you, even before we first went to Narnia," she said to her brother, her words barely understandable through her tears. Stepping back away from the graves, Susan took deep breaths to control her crying.
"I miss you all more than I can say. Life isn't the same without you here. You three were always so much better than I was, loving Narnia and Aslan more than I ever could." Sighing deeply, she turned and saw Robert standing several yards away, staring at her.
"I'm ready," she called to him. Nodding, he turned to walk towards her and the two left the cemetery in silence.
Susan tossed in her bunk, unable to sleep during the storm. Looking over at her sister, she narrowed her eyes as she saw Lucy deep asleep, an arm flung over her head. A jolt suddenly shook the cabin, causing Lucy to fall out of her bunk onto the floor. Waking with a start, Lucy cried, "What's happened?" Susan, who had managed to quickly grab onto the side of her bunk, steadied herself and climbed onto the cabin floor, holding onto her bunk so she would not fall from the rocking of the ship.
"The storm has gotten worse," Susan said, leaning down to offer her sister a hand. Pulling herself up, Lucy grabbed onto Susan's bunk as well.
"Where are Peter and Edmund?" she said, her voice still thick with sleep.
"They're up top helping. It's all hands on deck. With the exception of us, that is," Susan explained.
"Where's Laira?" Lucy asked, noticing the empty bunk beneath her's.
"You know her. She's been attached to the chamber pot for hours, sick from the storm," Susan said, rolling her eyes slightly. Laira had been sick most of the trip, much to all of their annoyance (including Peter). "It looks like you two won't be joining G and me on our wonderful trips in the future," Edmund had joked, slapping his brother on the back. "Just as well, I guess. With you two gone, Laira and I will have plenty of alone time," Peter had shot back. "Well, while that's all fine and good, I wager 'alone time' at sea is much more exciting than in some stuffy old castle," Edmund had chuckled before Peter had stomped away, annoyed with his younger brother.
The ship rocked violently again, a moan coming from the adjoining room as it moved. "Should we go check on her?" Lucy asked nervously.
"Go right ahead," Susan said, holding out her arm towards the door.
"I think she'll be fine," Lucy said after hearing another loud moan come from the room.
"I'm going up. I can't stand being down here any longer," Susan said after a third jolt shook them. The storm began to bring back memories of her visit from Aslan the night before they sailed from Narnia, making her fearful that this was what the Lion had been talking of.
"Susan, you can't!" Lucy cried, grabbing her sister's arm.
"You stay here, I'll be right back. I promise," Susan assured her. She jerked open the door leading to the deck and was instantly drenched from the storm. Stepping into the wild rain, she slammed the door behind her, shielding her eyes as she searched for her brothers.
"Do you honestly think I'm going to let you go out here alone?" cried a voice from behind her.
"Lucy! I told you to stay below!" Susan screamed as she spun towards her sister, her voice barely carrying over the loud wind.
"I'm not going to sit by while my sister nearly gets herself killed!" Lucy yelled back, linking her arm with Susan's.
"Come on then!" Susan yelled, exasperated with her sister. The two women stumbled across the deck until Lucy cried, "There they are!" Susan looked to where she was pointing and saw her brothers trying to secure a loose sail. "Better let it go, your Majesties!" one of the crew members yelled at Peter and Edmund. As they let the sail flap in the storm, Edmund turned and saw his sisters.
"Susan! Lucy!" he yelled, Peter turning quickly at hearing his brother's words.
"What are you two doing up here? Go below! Now!" Peter bellowed as he stormed to his sisters. Edmund was not far behind, his face equally as dark and angry as his brother's.
"No!" Susan yelled back.
"That is an order from the High King, Susan. Go below!" Peter yelled, grabbing his sister by the arm.
"What difference does it make now?" Susan cried.
"What?" Peter asked loudly, confused by his sister's question.
"This is it for us Peter! Can't you see that? Would you send us to be separated?" Susan screamed hysterically, tears beginning to flow down her face. Growling in frustration, Peter turned to Edmund and yelled, "Get Lucy! We need to get below!" Edmund grabbed Lucy's arm and began pulling her towards the cabin.
"Susan, let's go!" Peter yelled. Susan had planted her feet and refused to move. She looked up at the stormy sky and saw a tiny break in the storm, the stars shining brightly through it. "Why?" she screamed at the clearing. "Why would you do this to us? Why are you ending us like this?"
"Susan, now!" Peter bellowed as he wrapped his arms around his sister, who struggled against him.
"Look out!" Edmund cried as a giant wave crashed into the four, knocking them down and over the side of the ship.
Susan awoke quickly and found her face pressed against a pane of glass. Outside the world whirled by quickly, almost too fast for her to focus on any one object. I'm in a car, she thought as her mind began to clear. Sitting up, she glanced over at the driver.
"Awake now?" Robert asked, smiling at her.
"Sorry," Susan said, blushing slightly. "I don't normally fall asleep like that."
Robert chuckled and said, "It's okay. You've been pretty interesting to watch."
"What? How?" Susan asked startled.
"You talk in your sleep. You kept saying "No" and "The storm" over and over," he explained before turning a curious eye on Susan. "What were you dreaming about? It sounded thrilling!" Susan laughed quietly and said, "I suppose 'thrilling' is a good way to put it. But I don't remember much of it, to be honest."
Robert gave her a small smile and turned back to the road. He had offered to drive Susan back to her house after their visit to the cemetery and was almost near where she lived. When he pulled up next to her house, he turned off the engine and opened his door to get out. Walking around to Susan's side, he opened her door for her, offering her his hand as she stepped out of the car.
"Thank you," Susan said softly as she stared up at her lonely house.
"May I walk you to your door?" Robert asked politely.
"I-I think I should walk myself," Susan said nervously, unsure of what it could mean if she allowed Robert walk her inside. He smiled, understanding her hesitation.
"It sure is a big house for one person," he mentioned as he stared up at her house.
"Well, only a few months ago it was for six," Susan said shortly. Robert turned to her, horrified at what he said and quickly apologized.
"I only meant-" he began, but was cut off by Susan's raised hand.
"It's alright, I know what you meant.," she said. Turning back to stare at her house, she added, "I mean to sell it, but I feel like by doing that I would just be destroying yet another family member."
"Destroying? Susan, you didn't destroy your family," Robert said firmly.
Susan turned to him, her eyes glistening with tears, and said, "Didn't I? Goodnight. Thank you again for today." She turned and walked quickly inside, shutting the door behind her and leaving a very confused Robert standing on the sidewalk.
