Chapter one

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Susan Pevensie let out a sigh as she pulled yet another box from some corner of her attic. She was almost glad to be leaving the city, starting over in the countryside. Yes, it would be a fresh start. Away from all the memories of the friends that had turned away from her, and the man she thought had loved her. A sheet of paper fell out of the box, pulling Susan from her thoughts.

"A letter," she said to herself, picking up the paper. "An old one by the looks of it."

Dear Miss Pevensie, there was a train crash yestereve

and we regret to inform you that your siblings, parents,

and cousin passed away in it. We understand

the profound grief this will bring, And

We offer our deepest condolences. Know that

their lives, filled with courage and devotion, will be

remembered. You are not alone in your mourning.

Please take the time you need, and allow yourself the

grace to grieve.

With utmost sympathy,

The Police Department.

Tears pricked Susan's eyes as she read the letter. She quickly stuffed the letter back into the box and tried to push the memories away. She glanced outside, smiling as she saw her daughter playing in the yard. The little girl looked as happy as ever, amusing herself with some toys she'd made out of twigs and leaves. The girl's creativity never ceased to amaze Susan. There was a knock on the door, and Susan hurried over, her daughter forgotten. She opened the door, and found a package on her doorstep. Pondering, she brought it back inside and opened it. Inside, there was a silver horn. Susan carefully held the horn, staring at it in disbelief. So many memories flashed through her mind, clamoring for her attention.

"It can't be…" she whispered to no one in particular. She set the horn down as carefully as she could and leaned on the table trying to push away the shock. The table tipped slightly under her weight and the package in which the horn had come slid onto the ground. Susan half conciously reached down to pick it up and four rings fell out. She glanced down numbly, before she realized what they were. She carefully picked them up. Two had green stones, and the other two had yellow stones. She shook her head.

"No," she told herself firmly. "It is not possible for that to be true. It was just a game we played. These…" she glanced down at the rings and the horn. "These were just props, toys, things for childrens'-play. Narnia-" Susan stopped. How long had it been since she heard that name last? It sounded sweet, familiar, comforting. She pushed those thoughts away, holding back tears. "It was just a game we played. Me and-" she stopped again, memories of her siblings filling her mind. She gave up. "It wasn't real. That's all that matters." she finished. A small part of her, just a small part, knew that Narnia was real. That it wasn't just something from Lucy's creative imagination. She glanced out the window and saw her daughter coming up to the door. Susan quickly stuffed the rings and the horn into the box and hid the box in a corner.

"Hello ma! Is dinner ready?" came the cheerful voice of Alyse, Susan's ten year old daughter. Susan forced a smile. How could the girl always be so cheerful?

"Yes, come sit down." Susan replied, trying to sound cheerful. Alyse saw her mothers sad eyes and forced smile, she frowned but didn't press.

"What are we having tonight?" Alyse's voice still sounded cheery but Susan could tell she was worried. Susan forced another smile and set a plate of hot food in front of her daughter.

"Not much. Leftovers from yesterday." Alyse gave her mother a polite smile and said a quick prayer of thanks before digging in.

Susan was quite familiar with this part of the day. It was always the same. Susan watched as Alyse finished and waited for the same question that Alyse asked every day. Finally, it came.

"Ma, what is the story behind my name?" Alyse asked. "Everyone else at school has a story behind their names, and my name is an uncommon name so it must have a story." she looked into her mothers face with her round pleading eyes. But Susan gave her usual answer:

"Stories are a waste of time. There are better things for a girl to fill her head with." Tonight, Susan's answer was particularly sharp. Alyse sighed, but decided to finally try and convince her mother.

"But there are worse things to fill a girl's head with too, aren't there? Maybe a story would be better than some of the other things I have in my head." Susan paused, seeming to consider this. Alyse went on, encouraged. "perhaps it would be better then the rumors of the war? or the gossip at school? or me having too much room in m head and trying to fill it by imagining all sorts of things?" Susan looked a little worried at that and Alyse knew she was about to give in. "Oh please ma, won't you tell me a story?" Susan sighed. She wanted to say no, to give her usual pointed answer, but there was a small part of her that was longing to say yes.

"Alright," Susan said, finally giving in. "One story and you have to go to bed, OK?" Alyse nodded eagerly. Susan couldn't help but smile. "Which story do you want to hear?"

"The one behind my name, please." Alyse said in her most persuasive and polite tone, not wanting to make Susan change her mind.

"Alright, alright!" Susan said laughing. "I don't see why you are so obsessed with why I named you Alyse, but I did promise you a story." Susan thought very hard for a moment, trying to recall the story behind the name Alyse. She froze. That small part of her deep down that knew Narnia wasn't a game rose to the top, becoming stronger until the part that believed it was a game felt tiny in comparison. She quickly swallowed her emotions and told Alyse the story as best she could. She had told the girl she would tell a story, after all.

"O-once there was a Dryad…" Susan stammered. She took a deep breath and steadied her voice. "Named Alyse," she pushed away all the shock and guilt and fear that came with the realization that she'd been lying to herself about Narnia. "Who became very good friends with the four rulers of her kingdom. She once saved the life of one queen when the queen was out in the forest. The queen's sister and brothers would have come too late to save their sister if it hadn't been for Alyse." a hint of fondness crept into Susan's tone as she remembered the dryad that saved her life. She continued to tell stories of the four rulers and the dryad, the many adventures they had together, and the various times they had saved one another's lives. As the night dragged on and Susan finished her story, Alyse looked into her mothers face with her blue eyes full of excitement.

"Ma?" The girl said at last.

"Yes?" Susan replied, snapping out of her thoughts.

"What were the names of the four rulers?" Susan tensed. She looked down into her daughter's innocent face, and her eyes began to fill with tears. She stood suddenly.

"I can't finish this story," She whispered.

"What!" The excitement faded from the girl's eyes, replaced by surprise and confusion.

"I can't finish this story." Susan said more firmly. A thousand questions clamored for Alyse's attention, yet the one that came out of her mouth was one she had since the start of the story.

"So I'm named after someone from a story?" She asked before she was really aware of what she was saying.

"No-" Susan caught herself. No, she would not have her daughter believing in Narnia. Narnia had killed Susan's family. She couldn't bear to lose her daughter to it as well. She turned and left the room.

"What do you mean?" Alyse cried. "I don't understand-"

"Stop." Said Susan more firmly. "No more of this nonsense. Go and get in bed."

"But ma!" Cried the little girl, feeling confused and hurt.

"I mean it Alyse!" came Susan's voice from the other room. Alyse did her best to push away her feelings and get in bed. But she lay awake wondering what had made her mother so sad. The girl hadn't meant to offend her with the question! Eventually, amidst all her confusion and hurt, the girl drifted off to sleep.