Further Up & Further In

Flowers For Her Grave: Chapter 10

Susan Pevensie lived a long life. At times it had felt too long, but by the end, it felt like just long enough. She had gotten married, had children, then grandchildren, and she loved more than she'd once thought she'd ever be capable to again. She was happy. Really happy.

When she reached the end of her life, she wasn't afraid. How could she be? At most, she was confused. Oh, she'd seen this world, if only in her dreams, and she knew it the moment she opened her eyes. In a way, it was exactly the world she had once known and loved. Yet it was deeper, and stranger, and greater than any world she had ever known.

Her long skirts didn't bother her as she walked. Her feet didn't get sore. She only had it in her mind to do one thing: go further. Further up and further in. So she went on and on, taking in everything and nothing all at once, not stopping until she reached a gate. Before it stood a mouse, and she smiled when she saw him. But then the gate opened, and her smile grew.

There stood the three people she'd most wanted to see since she was 20 years old.

Peter. No, King Peter the Magnificent, dressed in vibrant red and a golden crown, reached for her left hand.

Edmund - King Edmund the Just - grinned in a way that made her heart ache for the familiarity, and reached for her right.

Then Lucy; darling, precious, Valiant Queen Lucy, rushed at her and wrapped her arms around her middle.

The next moment, their arms all struggled to find places around each other, and there was joyous weeping on both sides. Susan couldn't help noticing how alive they looked, and she realized that at the very first glimpse of them, her last image of them had vanished from her head. How could she remember them in their graves when they weren't in them and never had been? How could she remember the picture of death now that she was truly alive?

Susan grasped for words; any words. Words she'd been thinking and praying for decades, and words she'd always thought she'd say when she saw them again. But in this moment, she couldn't find them. They were together. They were happy. They were alive.

They eventually pulled away from their embrace, and she turned to each of them once more. First, she wrapped her arms around Peter, - her shield, - and buried her face in his chest, letting herself feel the freedom of not needing him for the first time in her life. He was there, at long last, but she didn't need him. Not now. Not here. Here, she just loved him. Second, she gazed at Edmund, - her mirror, - and let herself know him for who he really was. She'd projected herself on him. She'd needed him to be like her, and not like the others. But here, he could just be Edmund. He could just be. Exactly who they were was just enough. And third, she placed her hands on Lucy's cheeks, - her light, - and admired the woman Lucy had become, and possibly always been. And as she stared at that glowing face, she found the words she most wanted to say to all of them.

"Thank you," she choked. "Thank you, for not giving up on me."

In a second, she was surrounded by them again, and they fell to the ground and cried some more.

A sudden brightness made her tear herself away, and in an instant she forgot her siblings, because the real Wonder was before her. Aslan himself; the Great Lion; her greatest desire, though she'd often been far from knowing it.

Without moving from her place on the ground, she lowered her head and bowed. She longed to rush at him. She longed to feel his fur under her fingers. But she felt like she needed permission.

"Rise, Queen Susan of Narnia, and walk with me," he said to her, and she obediently got up and followed.

She saw many faces she knew and loved and remembered as she walked with Aslan, but she kept her focus on Him. What did he want to say to her? And why had she waited so long to return to him?

Finally, he stopped, and breathed on her. "Susan, my child, are you brave again?"

"Yes, Aslan." She felt shivers down her spine as she said his name.

"Why did you stop?"

Susan had answered this question so many times in her prayers that she didn't hesitate to answer. It was the cornerstone of her repentance, and she'd felt truly free the first time she'd admitted it. "I was angry, Aslan, and I was prideful. When you told me I couldn't come back to Narnia, I thought... well, I thought it meant you didn't love me as much as the others. I've never been as brave as them-"

"Dearest, why do you still compare yourself to your brothers and sister?Have you truly believed that I could love one of you more than the others? Did I not die for all of you; you and your ancestors and all your descendants, even those that have yet to be born? Did I not create you with purpose? My child, did you not know how much I loved you all those years, even when you were lost?"

Susan was surprised by this. Why, indeed, did she compare herself to her brothers and sister? "I... I don't know, Aslan. They always seemed so much stronger than me, and I just thought-"

"Did you not build your own kingdoms in the ruins of what once was? Did you not live on without them? Did you not also offer your heart to me in worship? Daughter, there is more than one kind of strength, and yours has always lied in letting go."

Susan had been afraid to let herself think these things. She'd been trying to force the pride out of her body, and to have any confidence in herself felt like a symptom of that very sin that had first led her astray. But this was not her saying them: it was Aslan. And she felt, for possibly the first time, that she'd done at least one thing right. In a trembling voice, she admitted, "I should never have let go of you."

"No, Susan. But remember now that I never let go of you."

"Of course, Aslan. I know that now. It took me years to learn it, and longer still to take it to heart. But even when I knew that you were with me, those years were still difficult."

"Child, for your brothers and your sister, it was easy to believe as long as they held on. But you needed time. I let you leave Narnia so that you could find your own way, and we will not dwell on the way you chose. You are with me now. My daughter, be strong, and let go. Your trespasses have been forgotten. You are made new."

With that one word, her heart burst, and every trace of guilt and pride and shame disappeared. "I am making everything new." She'd memorized those words. She'd underlined it in her own bible, and reminded herself of it whenever she went astray.

New. Susan had been made new.

She dropped her guard, and at long last wrapped her arms around the Lion before her, and his tongue met her forehead in a great kiss.

Here she was. At last. Chapter One. And she was ready to turn the page.

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading this story! I really did pour my heart into it, and my hope for it is that it brings hope, closure, and faith to those who have been angry or worried about Susan's story post-Last Battle. I still feel the need to explain that this is just the condensed version, and that when I am ready I will definitely be expanding this into more of a novel. There are definitely things I might change, too. For example, I can see it taking more time for Susan to regain faith, but I wanted to work with the parallel of her being 27 in Narnia at the end of LWW and then 27 when she remembers.  Additionally, do you want to know more about Susan's husband? Jill's parents? What did Susan talk about with Aunt Alberta? I left a lot of these specifics and characters out because I wanted to make this about the story itself, but one day you will know a little more about the people and the conversations. Hopefully. Anyways, thanks again! I hope you enjoyed Flowers For Her Grave! (Following this I will probably return to posting one day a week. In addition, I'm wondering if any of you have any requests and/or prompts for me? You can send me a message if you do! I'm always looking for more inspiration.) Infinite thanks! <3 <3 <3