A/N This chapter belongs to Susan.

It's quieter, more internal. This is about change, memory, identity and standing still long enough to decide who you really are.

As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts—your comments and reviews mean everything.
New chapters every Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday (even when I'm catching up on my own timeline).

All rights to the world and characters of Narnia belong to C.S. Lewis and his estate.

Chapter 13 - Metanoia

(meh-ta-noy-ah) – Greek
(n.) the journey of changing one's mind, heart, self, or way of life; spiritual conversion.

Susan's POV

The morning light was weak, barely slipping through the heavy clouds lingering over the sea. The storm had passed, but the dampness remained, clinging to the air and settling into the walls of Cair Paravel.

I had spent most of the night listening to the rain, unable to sleep. My mind had long since decided that rest was no longer an option.

With a quiet sigh, I pushed back the blankets and rose from bed, making my way to the window. Pulling the curtains aside, I braced myself for what I already knew I would see.

The sky was still overcast, thick layers of gray stretching endlessly over the horizon. There was no sunrise—only the pale, dull light of morning forcing its way through.

A knot tightened in my stomach.

This wasn't just the weather.

I could feel it in my bones, in the weight pressing against my chest. Something was coming. Something was shifting beneath the surface, hidden in the shadows.

I turned away before my thoughts could spiral, crossing the room to the sideboard. Sitting before the mirror, I barely recognized the woman looking back at me.

My nightgown made my skin look paler than it already was. My eyes, usually bright, felt muted—distant. Even my hair, heavy with the humidity, seemed to fall in restless waves around my shoulders.

With resignation, I reached for my brush.

Brushing my hair had always been soothing. A quiet moment in which my mind could settle, where I could pretend that things were simpler.

But not today.

Today, my thoughts were relentless.

Last night, I had finally spoken to Edmund—finally said aloud what I had been trying to ignore.

It wasn't that I wasn't happy to be back in Narnia. Of course I was. How could I not be?

But for how long?

How long before it all vanished again? How long before we were pulled back into the world where we didn't belong—forced to go on as if none of this had ever happened?

Edmund hadn't let himself think about it yet. He was willing to grasp at this last chance, to take whatever time in Narnia he could get.

But I knew better.

And I wasn't willing to lose anything or anyone this time.

Not for an adventure that would eventually be stolen from us again.

My grip on the brush tightened.

Back home, I had worked so hard to build something for myself. A world where I didn't have to think about Narnia, where I could drown myself in the life I was supposed to have.

Parties. People. Plans.

It was all just noise, and I let it consume me. Because if I stopped, if I let myself feel it—I would remember what I lost.

And I didn't want to remember.

For the first time since arriving, my thoughts drifted to Robert.

He had asked me to marry him before I left. I told him that I would answer once he met my family. It had been an easy way to delay the decision—a way to keep him waiting without saying yes or no.

But I had already made my decision.

I was going to say yes.

Not because I loved him—because I didn't. But because it made sense.

He was a good man, from a good family. He was kind, stable, and would take care of me.

That should have been enough.

But now, the thought of going back to him made my stomach turn.

I didn't want to go back.

I didn't want to pretend to be someone I wasn't.

I swallowed hard, forcing my thoughts away from Robert.

Instead, my mind turned to my siblings.

Lucy—always brimming with hope, always believing. She had this way of making everything feel lighter, even when the world felt unbearably heavy.

Edmund—steady, sharp-witted, but kinder than he let on. The boy who had once been reckless was now the man I trusted most.

And Peter—our leader, our anchor, even when he didn't feel like one.

I would always be their greatest admirer.

And I was done pretending otherwise.

I finished tying my hair into a low bun, adjusting my dress before meeting my own gaze in the mirror.

"You've got this."

With a quiet breath, I turned and left my chambers.

The halls of Cair Paravel were restless.

Servants moved swiftly, carrying supplies, checking inventory, ensuring everything was in place. Warriors prepared in the courtyards, sharpening weapons and fastening armor. The tension in the air was palpable—the company would leave for the north tomorrow.

I walked slowly through the castle, taking it all in.

This was war.

Everywhere I looked, I saw Narnians trying to prepare for what was coming—trying to prepare for the worst.

I had spent so much time wrapped up in my own thoughts, in my own feelings about coming back, that I hadn't truly let myself accept it.

I needed to start acting like a queen again.

And that meant knowing what was happening behind the castle doors.

By early afternoon, I made my way toward the throne room.

When I entered the room, the conversation immediately stopped.

Erasmus, Peter, Edmund, and Diácano all turned toward me. Too quickly.

I knew that look.

"Well," I said, crossing my arms. "You're all looking at me like I've caught you doing something illegal."

Peter sighed.

Erasmus hesitated.

Edmund ran a hand over his jaw before finally meeting my gaze. "We sent runners ahead of the company yesterday." His voice was lower than usual. "They've already reached the dwarves."

I blinked.

That was… a relief.

But they had kept it from me.

"You kept this quiet," I said carefully.

Peter nodded. "For now, no one else knows."

I glanced between them, then exhaled. They weren't wrong to keep it contained. A traitor still walked these halls.

And the fewer who knew about this, the safer the company would be.

I studied their faces, taking in their exhaustion, their determination.

The weight of their crowns.

Peter exhaled."This mission has to succeed, Diácano."

The centaur met his gaze, unwavering."We won't fail, Your Majesty."

And for the first time since arriving in Narnia…

I finally knew where I stood.