I own not Narnia, nor Peter, nor Susan, nor Lucy, nor Edmund, nor Aslan, nor Puddleglum, nor Caspian. This is a fan fiction, people, fiction of a fan. And this is written with biblical principals (besides the stealing of the copyrighted material) there will not be anything in this that can be considered incestuous, homosexual, or heterosexual. So help me God.
Also, forgive me for my grammar, don't expect miracles folks, I'll do the best I can, just keep pointing out my mistakes. I tend to err more on spelling than anything. Enjoy what you can of the story.
"You should not cry for the dead,
for they are in a better place,
You can only cry for those who are still alive.
You know that, don't you?"
She had felt it before she had received the telephone message. The news had made her faint with despair. But before, when she had felt it, felt the end of her world, the feeling had brought her to her knees... She had felt all of it at the self same split second moment that everything had ended, she was sure of it. She had never been so aware… It was as if the universe and everything was pressing down on her and it was like nothing was there at all. She had never felt so full of every single emotion at once than any other time in her entire life, or anything in her entire other life.
Her other life... Queen of Narnia indeed, there was no more Narnia, and no more royalty of Narnia either. Susan had felt Narnia's end, and she had felt the Great Magic that had saved, no, snatched, the Narnia royalty from the midst of the train before it crashed.
She could not complain about being left behind, for she knew that they were safe. And what did she earn? She had turned her back on them long ago; she had denied that they had been rulers in that other, much more magical world. How could she be such a dunce? How could she have been so bitter? He had said that they could not go back, so Susan forced herself to forget, why yearn after something she couldn't have? In the beginning of the end, after they had made it all back to England after crowning Caspian, Susan had grown angry and bitter, yes.
And she wept to remember her actions; she had been crueler to Lucy over the first school term than Edmund had ever been when Narnia was caught in the Long Winter.
"Hum?" Susan brushed hot tears from her eyes and looked up. Amelia stood in the door way looking in, the light from a window to her right played over her face, leaving shadows and something else.
"It's time." Amelia had to swallow before going on, "We -we're waiting for you."
Susan nodded, "Thank you, I -I'll be right there." She clenched her fist, and held back a sob, "One, more, moment."
Another tear fell from her eyes, joining its brothers and then another rolled down the bridge of her nose and was held suspended at the tip for a single moment, then it dropped. It fell along way, but it held together the whole way toward the ground, then when it touched the wooden flooring it separated into a thousand droplets.
A stain, dark for a moment like blood, than it dried away to nothing.
"Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust…"
Susan heard the priest drone on through the service, there were to be no speakers. For no one had volunteered, no one to comment on how Mother adored her children, no one to tell of Father's love of his family, no one to speak of Aunt Polly or Professor Digory and the fulfilled life they lead. There would be no one to talk of Peter, Edmund or Lucy.
What could they say of them, those who had lived another life completely already? No matter, if someone had volunteered, they would only be able to speak of the things of this world. But not of what had really made them who they were. It had been Narnia who had made them. It had been their adventures that had made them Peter, Edmund and Lucy.
It had been Duty who had made Peter and other things, the affection for his younger siblings, the knowledge that he was not the best but he did what he could do and more: that made him Peter the Magnificence.
It had been Trial who had made Edmund, it had been Humility, and Honor, and Death who made her brother the Edmund the Just, he was as strong as his brother in battle, but his sense of what was right was honed keen by his own life.
It had been Faith and Care, and it had been Curiosity that had shaped Lucy, and perhaps her Love made her greater than they supposed.
It had been Aslan; it was Him who had been the key for all of them. For Polly and Digory in the very beginning, and the Pevensies when it was their turn, He made them who they were.
And now, now there was no one left, no one but Susan. They were all gone. Everything was gone, nothing had been found. The fire from the train was said to have burned their bodies after the impact that killed them. It was a memorial only, there were no ashes.
So many families had suffered over the giant loss of human life. But Susan sat alone. She had no one left. The memorial service was for all of the victims of the crash, but only seven coffins were present; Susan had not felt that a funeral was worth the cost, why? When they were not dead? And there were no bodies? So Susan decided; as the last of the Pevensies and only surviving benefited of the Professor's Will; she decided that they would have no funeral.
Aunt Polly had family who had given her a closed coffin service, but that did not stop Susan from creating another memorial casket. And now she sat, and stared without feeling at the seven empty coffins that had their names carved into them. They were not really empty, the coffins were filled with pictures and things that each had loved.
Susan knew the contents of each casket by heart, for she had done them all by herself. Each coffin, including her mum and dad's, had a stuffed lion at the foot of the coffin. Maybe it was childish, but it was something she felt she needed to do, to let her know that He was with them, and they were with Him.
She had found a sword to place in Peter's casket. Amelia had wondered at that, but she had not objected. Peter would have told her to waste a sword in that manner, but the fact that she could hear him say that, Susan had placed it ever more slowly into the coffin. That had been the first time her mind had spoken to her with their voices.
She had brushed Lucy's picture one last time and settled the lantern deeper into the plush of the lining, as she gazed at the other things: the candles and the simple flowers they used to pick together, she heard from the past her sister's giggle rise around her and Susan could almost see her from the corner of her eye for a flash of a moment.
When she had finished positioning the gilded pen and thin sheets of rice paper in Edmund's coffin, she had felt a memory, he had a past time of sneaking up and tugging on her hair, the feelings beginning to over whelm her again, she closed her eyes, almost hoping to feel her head jerked lightly back. But nothing happened. But the smile on his face in the photograph seemed kinder than before.
When the news of the crash had reached Susan, she had been a good hour from trying to gather her thoughts from when she had felt the intense magic. Amelia had burst into the study room at their collage library crying and going on that there was a train wreck and Susan had a telephone call at the headmistress's office.
The officer of the police on the other end had explained to her what had happened, and that she was needed to identify her family if they were found. Even though Susan had already known, she informed the officer that she would come, dropping the telephone from her hand missing the hook as she fell. Amelia came in as she fell and the last thing Susan remembered from it all was that Amelia sounded like the droning dial tone.
Good ol' Amelia stayed with her, and helped her though everything. To be truthful, Amelia had loved Peter, and had only talked to Susan before because of the shared blood. She had loved Peter as well as any non Narnian could love him. She had known Peter the English Man, but must have seen Peter the High King. Susan knew that Amelia had set her heart on marrying him. Susan had seen how her brother had treated her; he had cared about Amelia, yes. But she was nowhere near a tree nymph or a mermaid, she was the farthest from Narnia as Peter could ever get. Amelia would move on, she had never known Peter as other females had.
She had never the opportunity to.
Susan took a deep breath, the service was finished, the priest made a few announcements about donating to the memorial service. And those who cared about the Pevensies, or knew the Professor walked in a slow line past the coffins, giving them their last respects. A few curious people even shuffled into the line as well, for death was a morbid curiosity of humanity, even when there was nothing to be seen but things in a coffin.
Susan felt Amelia get up from beside her, Amelia was crying again. She must be angry at me, Susan wondered, not really caring, because here I am at my family's memorial, and not a tear for public awareness. Amelia made her way out of the row; it was not too hard many of the people were already gone. Susan moved her fingers from the fist they had clenched themselves into. She knew not how long she had stared at them until she suddenly felt the stillness of the building.
Everyone was gone.
Susan lifted her head slowly, and stared at the backs of a cluster of women at the coffins. Susan was not sure jut then if she should just leave, or wait. She stood up from the pew, the wood creaked. And the group of women jumped slightly… guiltily. Susan had seen to many guilty persons in her life to not know one now. She moved faster, slipping from the row and up the short way to the coffins her feet hitting the floor with sharp slaps on the stone and then up the wooden steps
Susan gathered her hand purse in one fist to use as a weapon if needed. The women were now turned to watch her, some looked scared, and the others wavered between guilt and anger.
Susan felt something rise within her, and she recognized need to fight hand to hand with something, anything. Not a women or a man, maybe it was a demon she needed to fight.
"Can I help you with anything? The memorial is over."
One woman let her anger over come her, and that woman was not Susan, "And who are you? We're trying to pay honor."
Susan felt a smile flicker over her face; it was not a nice smile, and her beautiful face was contorted by it, the group of women before her stepped back.
"To who?" Susan scoffed, "the dead? There are no dead here. Go away. Because even if you knew them, you never really knew them."
Susan snapped, and she felt the hot blood course through her veins, for some reason her vision was blurring. And the women… they blurred and disappeared. What was wrong with her? She tried to move, but her feet seemed locked in place to the floor. Everything started going black around the edges of her vision, and gray speckles danced across the rest.
Then she felt it, everywhere. It had been so long.
She felt the magic skip over her senses, it was a different magic than Narnia, but it was magic. Susan gulped up the feeling like a thirsty wanderer; it had been ages since she had felt the constant presence of magical things. She wished that she could move but just feeling was enough for now. Enough for right now.
She smelt a fresh smell creep up around her, it was of sweet thick grass and of slow moving water. The twin scents bore down on her, and she felt drowsy and heavy. It was time to go to sleep. She heard someone breathing strangely near her, they sounded strangled and short of breath, each breath smaller than the last. They did not sound good; whoever it was would have to begin breathing stronger to get enough air. Suddenly she knew.
Oh, that is my breathing. She thought. I'm dieing.
And that is Amelia. Hello Amelia, I'm dieing, can you see me? Are you touching me? Will you miss me?
"Susan! Oh, Criss… Someone help me!" Amelia sounded sad. Don't be sad Amelia, everything will be alright.
And then, as if from a great distance, she felt ghost hands touch her and pull her from the ground. Shouts and yells reached her ears from a great distance.
Lips touched her own, warm breath fill her lungs; it was a lungful of sweet air, moist and healing, and magical. Susan found that she could open her eyes; a great bright light filled them then all she could see was a pair of amber eyes gazing into hers, his lips still on hers holding the breath in her. A mass of golden hair or maybe it was light that surrounded her, it was a nice warm feeling, and he gazed at her with a knowing, caring gaze. He was like nothing she had ever seen, not in Narnia and not in England that was for sure. Susan felt her eyes drop from her tiredness. Don't leave me.
Then he was gone and she was left gasping for stale breath.