Robert did not call Susan for a week. With the exception of the months she was in France and the months following their argument, it was the longest they had ever gone without talking. Susan went through several emotions during the week, beginning with worry for her friend followed by hurt from his sudden departure before finally settling on anger.

"I don't see why he should be the one who gets to hide and sulk! I'm the one who's being ignored. I'm the one who had a complete bomb dropped on me and then was left to deal with it alone," she had complained to Aunt Alberta one afternoon.

"Dear, who knows why men act the way they do? It's best to just let him have his time alone and wait for him to come to you," Aunt Alberta had suggested.


"He's just going to have to face me," Susan muttered as she stood on the doorstep of Robert's house. She had never been there before and was nervous, but her fears were minimal compared to the anger she felt from being ignored by Robert. She raised her hand and knocked loudly on the door. Moments later a short woman with grey-blonde hair opened the door. Susan had never seen her but instantly recognized her as Robert's mother. She had the same blue-green eyes as her son.

"May I help you?" she asked kindly.

"I'm Susan Pevensie. I wanted to see Robert," she said hesitantly.

"Oh, Susan! We've heard so much about you! Robert is still at work but I'm expecting him any time now. Please, come in," Mrs. St. James said, ushering Susan inside.

Susan stepped inside the entryway and looked around at the stylishly decorated room. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling, the crystals on it glittering from the sunlight pouring in through the large window over the door.

"May I take your coat?" Mrs. St. James asked.

"Oh, yes. Thank you," Susan said as she shrugged out of her coat and handed it to Robert's mother. When she had hung the coat in a small closet near the front door, she turned back to Susan and asked, "How far along are you?" Susan instinctively placed a hand on her stomach and blushed. "I apologize for putting you on the spot like that. Robert told us you were pregnant," Mrs. St. James said kindly.

"No, please don't apologize. I know it's a little… unconventional. I just hope you won't dislike me too much for it," Susan said slowly. Mrs. St. James laughed softly, not unkindly though, and wrapped her arm around Susan's shoulders, giving her a small squeeze.

"My dear, we couldn't dislike you even if we wanted to, which I assure you we do not. The way our Robert speaks of you shows us just how truly special you are, regardless of your unfortunate circumstance," she said, giving Susan a warm smile. "Now, I was just about to make a cup of tea. Would you like some?" Susan returned Mrs. St. James' smile and nodded.

"Now," Mrs. St. James said as she settled on a loveseat in the sitting room. Susan sat across from her on a second loveseat. "How have you been getting along during your pregnancy?" she asked concernedly.

"I, um," Susan started, moving uncomfortably in her seat.

"I apologize again. I sometimes have a tendency to be a little forward. But I am concerned about you, even though we just met. Surely your friends are helping you out? Maybe their mothers are giving you advice?" Mrs. St. James asked.

"Well, no, actually. Other than Robert, I don't really have any friends left," Susan explained sadly.

"Left?" Mrs. St. James asked.

"Nearly everyone I know has left me alone. They all disapprove of what I did, of what happened to me. And I think all the time that I probably would have acted the same if I were in their shoes," Susan said sadly.

Mrs. St. James looked at her wisely and asked, "Would you have? I don't think you would."

"I mean no disrespect, but how do you know? You barely know me, other than what Robert's told you of me. I barely know myself," Susan replied. Mrs. St. James shook her head and said, "Maybe I'm mistaken, but I do not believe that I am. I've experienced being shunned myself, after my husband's unfortunate investment decisions, so I understand what it's like to be left alone by those who were once your friends. But I saw you the night of the Clayworths' Christmas party and how you came up to my son when no one else would. I overheard you defending him that night before you even knew him. So that is why I find it hard to believe that you would shun anyone in your situation or anyone else who had made a mistake that affected their life so much."

"So King Edmund was in league with the White Witch? But I thought he was good and just. How can someone act so traitorously and then become king?" a boy of about fifteen asked.

"You will find, my boy, that even the most traitorous of traitors can find redemption if they simply ask for forgiveness for their misdeeds," the king answered.

"But who did he ask for forgiveness?" the boy asked.

"Why, Aslan, of course!" the king replied, surprised from the boy's question. "According to lore and the various histories written on the Kings and Queens of old, King Edmund spent most of his life seeking redemption for what he had done. Oh, High King Peter and his sisters Queen Susan and Queen Lucy had forgiven him, as had Aslan and the other Narnians, but it is written that King Edmund never quite forgave himself," the king explained.

"Well, that's ridiculous!" the boy exclaimed.

"Young sir, you should not judge so quickly," the king admonished.

"But I don't understand. Everyone, including Aslan, had forgiven him. He was off the hook. Why could he not have forgiven himself since everyone else forgave him?" the boy asked.

"I think you're correct. You don't understand. Maybe it's time I showed you something to help you understand," the king said gently.

"Mother?" a voice called from the hallway. Mrs. St. James smiled and called, "We're in here, dear!"

Robert walked into the living room and asked, "Who's 'we'?" Susan turned from where she sat and looked towards Robert.

"Oh, hi," he said solemnly.

Mrs. St. James stood and said cheerfully, "I think I'll give you two kids some privacy." She walked to the door, stopping by Robert for a second to pat his cheek before leaving, shutting the door behind her. Robert stared at Susan from where he stood for several moments before moving to take his mother's seat across from her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked gruffly.

"You never called me," Susan stated.

"You never called me, either," Robert pointed out.

"I'm the girl! I'm not supposed to be the one to call!" Susan exclaimed, her temper rising. Robert leaned back on the love seat and rested his arm on the armrest.

"Yes, I suppose the suffragettes forgot to fight for that rule to be changed," he said sarcastically.

Susan ignored his sarcasm and said, "You left me alone. You told me something big and then left me alone."

"Look, I shouldn't have told you that. You're really in no position to hear someone spouting out their feelings and I don't want you to even think about what I said," Robert said, rambling slightly. Susan gave him a confused look before shaking herself out of her confusion.

"You're making no sense, but that's okay. You're my best friend. I love you, but I don't know if I'm in love with you. I haven't thought much about it; all my thoughts are centered around this baby and what's going to happen once it comes. I don't even know if I'm capable of loving anyone right now. All I want is to have my friend with me, helping me and letting me be myself with him," Susan said firmly. Robert stood and moved to sit next to her on the sofa, picking up one of her hands in his own.

"Susan, regardless of what happens or doesn't happen between us romantically, you can always have that. Never be afraid to be exactly who you are with me. No matter what, I'll always be here for you," he said. Susan sighed, relieved, and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered. The two sat quietly for several minutes, the only sound in the room a small clock on a mantle quietly ticking away. "Ooh!" Susan exclaimed suddenly, sitting up quickly and placing her hand on her stomach.

"What is it?" Robert asked, alarmed.

"I felt something," Susan said. "There it is again!"

"What is it?" Robert asked again, this time more demanding.

Susan shot him an annoyed look before saying, "The doctor said I may begin to feel movements from the baby. It may be kicking or moving around. I think that's what it must be!" She smiled widely as she felt another tiny bump against her hand.

"What does it feel like?" Robert asked quietly, his eyes on Susan's stomach.

"Like little pops. Here, feel," she said, taking Robert's hand and placing it on her stomach. He sat still for a moment before his eyes widened and he broke out into a grin.


It was after Christmas and the New Year that Susan decided to sell her house. She wanted to pack and move to her aunt's and uncle's before she became too big to get around easily. Robert, who had also offered to help her pack, declared that he would be handling the details of selling it, sensing the process could be too overwhelming for Susan. She had rolled her eyes at his increasing habit of being overprotective, but secretly she was glad for his help; selling her childhood home, the place where her family had been alive, was harder than she had ever imagined.

"When was the house built?" the real estate agent asked as she walked around the living room, inspecting it.

"The um, the 30s, I think. We moved here when my sister was born," Susan said nervously as she watched the woman touch the mantle, her hand resting too close to the framed photograph on it.

"It's a lovely house," the woman commented as she turned to face Susan and Robert, both who were sitting on the sofa. "Very open, roomy, well-kept. My only concern is the bedrooms. The master bedroom is nice, but the others are a little small. I would suggest to the future owners to tear the wall down between them and making one larger bedroom. The spare room up there could be turned into a guest room rather than a play room like it is now. I think once this place is remodeled it will look very nice in the modern age," she continued, a smug grin tugging at her mouth.

"What? You can't tear down the bedrooms! That's where my brothers lived! Where my sister slept! How dare you-" Susan cried, jumping up suddenly but was cut off by Robert's quiet warning.

"Susan," he said to her as he pulled her back down to the sofa. When she had sat, he stood, suppressing a smile at the furious glare she was giving the real estate agent. The poor woman looks white as a ghost, he inwardly chuckled. "Thank you for coming out to look at the house. I don't think Miss Pevensie has yet made up her mind about selling it, but once she has we will be in touch," he said kindly, sticking out his hand to shake hers. The agent gave his a quick shake and allowed Robert to lead her out.

When Susan heard the front door close she stood and angrily turned towards the door as Robert walked back into the living room. "She is not destroying my home!" Susan cried.

"Susan, she's not going to destroy it. But if someone buys it they can make changes as they like," Robert said soothingly.

"Well, why can't I sell it to someone who doesn't want to make changes? It's my home, Robert," she said pleadingly.

"If you sell the house, Susan, it won't be your home anymore," he replied.

"I know," Susan said softly as she sat back down on the sofa. Robert walked to the sofa and crouched in front of her.

"You didn't like her, did you?" he asked gently. Susan shook her head.

"She looked at my house like there were price tags written all over it. I didn't like it and felt like she wouldn't try to sell it to someone who would love it as much as I do, as much as my family did," Susan said.

"Okay then," Robert said, patting her knee as he stood.

"Okay then what?" Susan asked, confused.

"Okay then, she's gone. I'll find someone else," he said cheerfully.

"Just like that?" Susan asked skeptically.

"Just like that," Robert said, winking at her.


The process of packing up Susan's home proved to be just as difficult as finding a real estate agent she approved of. Just as she rejected six agents before finally agreeing to let one sell her house (a kind older gentleman who had reminded Susan of Professor Kirke), she rejected all suggestions from Robert to get rid of various items in her house. She had agreed to sell most of the furniture to the person who was buying her house (her new agent had sold the house within the first week of being hired, with one stipulation that the buyer could purchase the furniture as well).

"I don't know what to do with all this stuff!" Susan wailed as she sat in the middle of the floor of the spare room. Once used as a playroom for when she and her siblings had been children, it was now full of old toys, clothing and, as Robert put it, junk.

"Well, why don't you donate some of the things to a charity? I seem to remember you enjoying those before," Robert suggested from the doorway. Susan rolled her eyes and said, "I didn't enjoy them. I just did them to be seen."

"You could still donate this stuff. Most of it's old and broken anyway. It could probably do better off in a junkyard than in here," he said sarcastically. Susan stood up and brushed off her dress.

"Maybe we could just skip this room and move on to the next," she brightly suggested as she tried to slink by Robert. He reached out and caught gently by the waist.

"Oh, no you don't," he laughed as he pulled her back in the room. "We're finishing this room first before moving on to another room."

The king pushed through the doors leading into the Great Hall followed closely by the boy. A few fauns and a centaur who were in the hall looked up, startled by the abrupt entrance of their king. They bowed low, murmuring "Your Majesty" as the king strode by. The boy gave a small wave to the Narnians as he hurried after the king who had stopped in front of a dais where four thrones sat. Turning to his subjects, he said curtly, "Please leave us." The fauns and centaur bowed again and left the room. When the door had closed behind them, the king looked at the boy and said, "What I am about to show you must never be revealed to any others. It is for the royal family's knowledge only and, even though you are not royalty, you are a Son of Adam, which makes you nobler than any crown ever could. I'm also showing you because you need to understand about the kings and queens of old and their time in Narnia."

"What is it?" the boy asked, his curiosity piqued. The king turned and motioned for the boy to follow him behind the dais until they stood staring at a tapestry covered wall. The king pushed back one of the larger ones revealing a hidden door. He took a key from a chain he wore around his neck and unlocked the door, turning the handle and pushing it open. The boy peered around the king's side and saw there was a set of stairs leading down into darkness.

"Grab that torch from the wall there," the king said. The boy did so and handed it to the king, who began the descent into the secret room. The boy followed behind, counting the steps as he walked down the curved staircase. When he had reached the sixteenth step, he realized they had reached the bottom. The king walked to a sconce on the wall and lit it with his torch then doing so with the next one and the next, each distanced several feet apart. When he had lit several of them, he stopped and turned to the boy who was still standing on the bottom step. The boy's face was filled with wonder as he took in the secret room, now lit by the glowing torches on the wall. There was a path that led down the center of the room and on either side stood rows of tall shelves. The light glittered on the gems and stones which sat scattered on some of the shelves, gleamed off the various pieces of gold jewelry and cups lining other shelves, and made the tall suits of armor that were interspersed around the room shine brightly.

"What is this place?" the boy breathed, afraid that a voice any louder would spoil the magic that surrounded the room.

"This is the royal treasure chamber," the king said, chuckling quietly as he watched the boy. "In here is housed the treasures belonging to Narnia's rulers, most importantly the king and queens of old. Come. Look." The king motioned for the boy to follow him down the path that led between the rows of shelves to the far wall of the chamber. On it hung a sword and shield, a bow and quiver of arrows and a small bottle which sparkled in the firelight.

"What are they?" the boy asked, in awe of the weapons.

"These are the gifts High King Peter, Queen Susan and Queen Lucy received from Father Christmas as the White Witch's power was being broken," the king replied.

"But what of King Edmund's gift? What happened to it?" the boy asked.

"King Edmund received no gift. He was with the White Witch at the time and, therefore, was not worthy to receive a gift similar to the ones his brother and sisters received. As you can see from the contents in this chamber, he was not without many fine weapons. But he had to live each day knowing that his sword and shield were not equal to his brother's, his bow and arrows were not equal to his sister's. You said you did not understand how King Edmund found it hard to forgive himself; he found it hard because, no matter how many others forgave him, he was constantly surrounded by reminders of his treachery," the king explained.

"I see," the boy said softly as he stared at the three gifts hanging on the wall. The flickering shadow of one of the flames caught the boy's eye and the turned towards it. Standing before him were four life-size statues, two men and two women.

"That's them," the boy stated, knowing instantly who the statues were.

"Yes," the king answered, moving to stand next to the boy. "That is High King Peter in the center, to his left King Edmund, to his right Queen Susan, and to her right, Queen Lucy. These statues were sculpted almost a year before they disappeared."

"She's beautiful," the boy said, mesmerized by the statue of Queen Susan.

"Yes, she is," the king chuckled, knowing exactly which statue the boy was referring to. "Both Queen Susan and Queen Lucy captured many hearts while they reigned and were highly sought after for marriage. As were the High King and his brother. Unfortunately for Narnia, none of them ever married."

"I'm very glad she never married," the boy said quietly. The king laughed loudly, clapping the boy on the back.

"Come, boy. Let's get you out of here before you lose your heart any more," the king said jovially.

"Finished!" Susan announced happily, wiping her dusty hands on her dress.

"Thank goodness," Robert said. The two had finally finished packing the old playroom after several hours of tears and arguing. "The only rooms we have left now are your bedroom and your siblings' old rooms," he said.

Susan nodded slowly and said, "I suppose we should start with Peter's and Edmund's room. That will probably be the most difficult one because it has the most stuff."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Robert asked, worried that the stress of packing up her brothers' belongings might not be good for Susan. "I'm fine," she said determinedly as she walked out of the room towards her brothers' room.

Susan pushed open the door and stared at the room, memories of her brothers flooding her. Taking a deep breath, she shoved the memories away and walked in, determined to tackle the room head on. Robert followed behind her as they began packing the room.

An hour after they had begun, Susan found herself tiring, both mentally and physically. She sat on Edmund's bed, which had been stripped of its sheets, and watched as Robert went through Peter's books. He looked up and saw she was sitting, a funny smile on her face.

"Your brother had an odd collection of books," he remarked, holding up one of Peter's favorites.

Susan laughed, "That he did. That particular one is on swords of the 15th century and was one of his favorites. He loved political books and anything that remotely could have gone with politics, from warfare and weaponry to espionage and assassinations."

"Sounds like he would have been fun at a party," Robert said sarcastically as he placed the book in a large box near his feet. Susan laughed again.

"He never talked about those things. Peter was usually flirtatious at parties, always mingling and laughing. We would tease him about his interests, so he tried to keep them quiet around others," she said. "Now, Edmund on the other hand, he wouldn't hesitate to talk to you about his interests. He had a way of making it interesting, though. Everything he would explain turned into a story; even the most boring of history lessons came alive when he'd talk about them." Robert turned back to her and smiled.

"I love hearing your stories about your siblings. The way you talk about them makes them come alive," he said.

"If only that was all it took to make them come alive," Susan said quietly, her smile fading. Robert saw her smile disappear and quickly changed the subject.

"Are you getting tired? We can always work up here tomorrow," he suggested.

"That actually sounds good. I'm pretty pooped and getting hungry," Susan agreed, pushing herself off the bed.

"Well, let's get you and that baby fed," Robert chuckled as he walked to Susan and placed his hand on the small of her back, leading her out of the room. They had just stepped out of the room when a knock came from the front door below.

"I wonder who that could be," Susan stated as they walked down the stairs. When they reached the bottom Susan walked to the door and opened it. A tall, dark headed man stood there, a dashing smile on his face. "Philip!" Susan exclaimed, worry apparent in her voice.

"Hello there, Susie," he said, his eyes darting down to glare at Susan's rounded stomach. "I see you've been busy."