Untitled fic (Chronicles of Narnia, post-TLB)
A long looked-for reunion, and a conversation between brother and sister.
I finally read "The Problem of Susan" by Neil Gaiman a few days ago, and was inspired to write this.
Of his sisters, she was always the quiet and reserved one.
Those were the attributes he didn't like about her when they were young but after quickly growing up-they had to, what with the war going on and those life-changing events that occurred during that time-those were the things he loved about her.
The war years had changed and defined him in many ways and eventually, he too became as quiet and reserved as she had always been. The two of them were a contrast to their other brother and sister but it suited them well enough.
It had been a long time since he had last seen her. Time immeasurable for him but decades for her. She had always been older than him-by birth, and then by time and experiences-but now that they were together again, she looked as she had when they last met: young and beautiful, with glossy dark hair, pale skin and red lips. It came as no surprise that her appearance did not match her true age; they had been through this before, shapeshifting from older to younger enough times that he just accepted it as the norm.
And just beneath that youthful exterior, there was still the same quiet and reserve that he remembered but it seemed even more magnified now.
When she finally arrived, the others thought she would be as happy and joyful as they had all been when they realized where they ended up. This was a place not meant for sadness, and all worries and sorrows were to be banished. After all, there was nothing to be afraid of here.
But he knew her better than the others. And he could see that something still held her back from being completely free.
He found her standing along the parapet of one of the castle towers. In another life, this had been a favorite spot for her to seek respite from the duty and responsibilities that kept them all busy. Her back was to him but even her slender silhouette made an elegant picture as a breeze ruffled her hair and the hem of her knee-length dress. It was not the type of garment she had once worn in such a setting but then again, she did not wear the crown that signified her rank here either. Instead, she was dressed as a typical young woman in post-war England.
He walked up to her slowly, making sure she heard his steps so as not to startle her from her thoughts. As he stood beside her, his gaze followed hers as they looked down to the beach where the rest of their family had gathered. There was Lucy, barefoot and with the skirt of her dress hitched up as she ran towards the incoming waves. She laughingly gestured for Peter to join her but he shook his head with a grin and chose to remain where he was, sitting with their parents on a large blanket spread across the sand, the remnants of a picnic off to the side.
He turned away from the happy scene and looked to his other sister.
"You do not yet look as happy as He means you to be," he said, echoing the same words spoken to Lucy when they first arrived and realized where they were.
"No," she replied softly, her eyes still watching the scene below. "How can I be happy again so soon? After all that had happened?"
"Susan," he began gently, "I can't presume to know-none of us can-what you've seen or lived through but I hope it wasn't all bad."
She shook her head. "There were happier times to come but it took a while for me to get there. A very, very long while." There was a pause and she finally turned to face him. "But being here now and seeing all of you again has opened up the past and all of the old memories feel so fresh and raw."
He could see the pain and anguish in her eyes. "It's not that I'm unhappy being here-truly I'm not. I've missed all of you so much but it's just..." The words trailed off as she looked away from him and became quiet once more.
He was unwilling to press her but he would wait patiently, knowing she would speak when ready. After all, they were much alike and they had all the time in the world. In the silence, he reached for her hand and squeezed it, hoping the gesture conveyed everything he wanted to say without the need for words.
After a few minutes, she spoke again. "It was awful, you know. All the things I had to do… all the responsibilities left for me to sort out. Nothing-not even all I had seen or done in Narnia-could have prepared me for it. If you saw what I saw-" she broke off and gave a bitter laugh. "But you were there too, all of you, except that you were blissfully unaware of it all."
"Susan-"
"Peter and Lucy were lucky, as they always have been," she mused without a hint of resentment. "They were easily identifiable afterwards but you-"
She squeezed his hand firmly, as if her life depended on it. "Oh, Edmund. You-" She shuddered. "When they pulled you from the wreckage, what was left of you was in pieces. You had been decapitated."
He felt a chill crawl along his spine even though it was a warm, sunny day.
"Everyone from the accident was moved to a nearby school for triage and identification. I had to walk past groups of happy, oblivious children to a room filled with death and despair. And when I finally came to you, you were lying on a table in pieces."
Edmund raised his free hand and gently brushed the tears from her cheeks. "I'm here now and as you can see, I'm whole."
She smiled briefly at him but he could still see the sorrow and grief etched on her face. "But I had to live with that last image of you for the rest of my life and I can still picture it in my mind."
Susan released her hold on him and placed her hands on the parapet, gripping the stone wall so tightly her knuckles turned white. "In those first few days after the funerals, I couldn't help but think that this was a punishment for turning away from Narnia. That even He could be as cruel and vengeful as the Witch had been."
Edmund remained silent, unsure how to respond.
His sister continued on. "I was so angry for so long and the only thing I wanted to do after that was to spite Him. And in order to do that I just had to move on, and to live in the only world left to me. Which meant I had to bury Narnia as I had buried your bodies."
"You never forgot." He did not phrase it as a question.
"Of course not," she answered derisively in a tone that reminded him of a displeased Queen. "But we weren't supposed to come back so what else could I have done? Narnia was closed to us and so it was time to focus on England and the rest of Spare Oom."
Susan took a deep breath. "I know what the others thought of me. Nylons, lipsticks, and parties..." Her lips were pressed into a thin, red line. "Such frivolous things until one realizes they are the armor for women living in a post-war world that men continued to rule. If all of you had lived and seen what the world became..." She looked out toward the east, eyes on the gleaming ocean but from the expression on her face, it seemed to Edmund that her thoughts were further away, perhaps in a different world.
After a minute, she shook her head and turned back to him. "The end of that war led to more wars. Allies became enemies, and the weaponry was far more dangerous than ever." She shrugged. "But it no longer matters now. None of it does."
"I suppose not," he said quietly though he privately disagreed. It mattered to him, and it clearly mattered to her. "But I would love to hear about it all. Tell me what the world is like now, and all of your experiences in it."
"I would like that too, Ed. There's so much to tell you about what's happened in the last oh-twenty, thirty years." The smile that appeared on her face soon gave way to a more solemn expression. "But for now, let me tell you of the last thing I remembered in that world."
He waited, curious.
"As I lay in bed for the last time, I had turned my face to the window and saw a golden cat sitting there, staring at me. I may have been dreaming-I was so tired that day-but I would swear the cat spoke to me and said, "Well done." Of course, I knew then it was no an ordinary cat at all. And as I began to fall asleep, I realized those lonely years had never been a punishment. I had been doing exactly what He wanted us to do all along..."
"Which was?"
"To live. To take everything we learned from Narnia and to use those experiences to live to the fullest in our world." She paused and when she looked at him, she gave him a sad smile. "And having done just that, I suppose that's why I'm finally here now. Another lifetime lived and I'm finally home."
End.
Apologies for any typos or grammatical bugs. I did a quick review but probably not up to previous standards. It's been ages since I've written any sort of fic and it felt good, even though the story itself isn't a happy one. But there was something about Gaiman's story that caught my attention enough to spark an interest in writing.
This entry was originally posted at https://autumnia.dreamwidth.org/46209.html. Please comment there.
I finally read "The Problem of Susan" by Neil Gaiman a few days ago, and was inspired to write this.
Of his sisters, she was always the quiet and reserved one.
Those were the attributes he didn't like about her when they were young but after quickly growing up-they had to, what with the war going on and those life-changing events that occurred during that time-those were the things he loved about her.
The war years had changed and defined him in many ways and eventually, he too became as quiet and reserved as she had always been. The two of them were a contrast to their other brother and sister but it suited them well enough.
It had been a long time since he had last seen her. Time immeasurable for him but decades for her. She had always been older than him-by birth, and then by time and experiences-but now that they were together again, she looked as she had when they last met: young and beautiful, with glossy dark hair, pale skin and red lips. It came as no surprise that her appearance did not match her true age; they had been through this before, shapeshifting from older to younger enough times that he just accepted it as the norm.
And just beneath that youthful exterior, there was still the same quiet and reserve that he remembered but it seemed even more magnified now.
When she finally arrived, the others thought she would be as happy and joyful as they had all been when they realized where they ended up. This was a place not meant for sadness, and all worries and sorrows were to be banished. After all, there was nothing to be afraid of here.
But he knew her better than the others. And he could see that something still held her back from being completely free.
He found her standing along the parapet of one of the castle towers. In another life, this had been a favorite spot for her to seek respite from the duty and responsibilities that kept them all busy. Her back was to him but even her slender silhouette made an elegant picture as a breeze ruffled her hair and the hem of her knee-length dress. It was not the type of garment she had once worn in such a setting but then again, she did not wear the crown that signified her rank here either. Instead, she was dressed as a typical young woman in post-war England.
He walked up to her slowly, making sure she heard his steps so as not to startle her from her thoughts. As he stood beside her, his gaze followed hers as they looked down to the beach where the rest of their family had gathered. There was Lucy, barefoot and with the skirt of her dress hitched up as she ran towards the incoming waves. She laughingly gestured for Peter to join her but he shook his head with a grin and chose to remain where he was, sitting with their parents on a large blanket spread across the sand, the remnants of a picnic off to the side.
He turned away from the happy scene and looked to his other sister.
"You do not yet look as happy as He means you to be," he said, echoing the same words spoken to Lucy when they first arrived and realized where they were.
"No," she replied softly, her eyes still watching the scene below. "How can I be happy again so soon? After all that had happened?"
"Susan," he began gently, "I can't presume to know-none of us can-what you've seen or lived through but I hope it wasn't all bad."
She shook her head. "There were happier times to come but it took a while for me to get there. A very, very long while." There was a pause and she finally turned to face him. "But being here now and seeing all of you again has opened up the past and all of the old memories feel so fresh and raw."
He could see the pain and anguish in her eyes. "It's not that I'm unhappy being here-truly I'm not. I've missed all of you so much but it's just..." The words trailed off as she looked away from him and became quiet once more.
He was unwilling to press her but he would wait patiently, knowing she would speak when ready. After all, they were much alike and they had all the time in the world. In the silence, he reached for her hand and squeezed it, hoping the gesture conveyed everything he wanted to say without the need for words.
After a few minutes, she spoke again. "It was awful, you know. All the things I had to do… all the responsibilities left for me to sort out. Nothing-not even all I had seen or done in Narnia-could have prepared me for it. If you saw what I saw-" she broke off and gave a bitter laugh. "But you were there too, all of you, except that you were blissfully unaware of it all."
"Susan-"
"Peter and Lucy were lucky, as they always have been," she mused without a hint of resentment. "They were easily identifiable afterwards but you-"
She squeezed his hand firmly, as if her life depended on it. "Oh, Edmund. You-" She shuddered. "When they pulled you from the wreckage, what was left of you was in pieces. You had been decapitated."
He felt a chill crawl along his spine even though it was a warm, sunny day.
"Everyone from the accident was moved to a nearby school for triage and identification. I had to walk past groups of happy, oblivious children to a room filled with death and despair. And when I finally came to you, you were lying on a table in pieces."
Edmund raised his free hand and gently brushed the tears from her cheeks. "I'm here now and as you can see, I'm whole."
She smiled briefly at him but he could still see the sorrow and grief etched on her face. "But I had to live with that last image of you for the rest of my life and I can still picture it in my mind."
Susan released her hold on him and placed her hands on the parapet, gripping the stone wall so tightly her knuckles turned white. "In those first few days after the funerals, I couldn't help but think that this was a punishment for turning away from Narnia. That even He could be as cruel and vengeful as the Witch had been."
Edmund remained silent, unsure how to respond.
His sister continued on. "I was so angry for so long and the only thing I wanted to do after that was to spite Him. And in order to do that I just had to move on, and to live in the only world left to me. Which meant I had to bury Narnia as I had buried your bodies."
"You never forgot." He did not phrase it as a question.
"Of course not," she answered derisively in a tone that reminded him of a displeased Queen. "But we weren't supposed to come back so what else could I have done? Narnia was closed to us and so it was time to focus on England and the rest of Spare Oom."
Susan took a deep breath. "I know what the others thought of me. Nylons, lipsticks, and parties..." Her lips were pressed into a thin, red line. "Such frivolous things until one realizes they are the armor for women living in a post-war world that men continued to rule. If all of you had lived and seen what the world became..." She looked out toward the east, eyes on the gleaming ocean but from the expression on her face, it seemed to Edmund that her thoughts were further away, perhaps in a different world.
After a minute, she shook her head and turned back to him. "The end of that war led to more wars. Allies became enemies, and the weaponry was far more dangerous than ever." She shrugged. "But it no longer matters now. None of it does."
"I suppose not," he said quietly though he privately disagreed. It mattered to him, and it clearly mattered to her. "But I would love to hear about it all. Tell me what the world is like now, and all of your experiences in it."
"I would like that too, Ed. There's so much to tell you about what's happened in the last oh-twenty, thirty years." The smile that appeared on her face soon gave way to a more solemn expression. "But for now, let me tell you of the last thing I remembered in that world."
He waited, curious.
"As I lay in bed for the last time, I had turned my face to the window and saw a golden cat sitting there, staring at me. I may have been dreaming-I was so tired that day-but I would swear the cat spoke to me and said, "Well done." Of course, I knew then it was no an ordinary cat at all. And as I began to fall asleep, I realized those lonely years had never been a punishment. I had been doing exactly what He wanted us to do all along..."
"Which was?"
"To live. To take everything we learned from Narnia and to use those experiences to live to the fullest in our world." She paused and when she looked at him, she gave him a sad smile. "And having done just that, I suppose that's why I'm finally here now. Another lifetime lived and I'm finally home."
End.
Apologies for any typos or grammatical bugs. I did a quick review but probably not up to previous standards. It's been ages since I've written any sort of fic and it felt good, even though the story itself isn't a happy one. But there was something about Gaiman's story that caught my attention enough to spark an interest in writing.
This entry was originally posted at https://autumnia.dreamwidth.org/46209.html. Please comment there.