Til They're Before Your Eyes

I'm determined to finish this story, even if it takes much longer than anticipated. Thanks to all who have been on this journey with me! 20 chapters are planned- this is the 11th. I hope you'll continue with me until the end, friends.

-rosa lunae

XXX

Last time, before Susan left for the benefit.

"Once I could no longer see my reflection, and focusing on myself left only despair and loneliness... I finally could see past myself." Her irony was wry, but not bitter. "So I am afraid you are right."

He opened his mouth to speak but what she said left it hanging open.

"I love you, too."

He didn't move for a second, didn't breathe, afraid to break the moment. He let the seconds tick by until her expression turned anxious, and when she opened her mouth to speak again, he kissed her. She did jerk in surprise at the contact, but he slid one hand to her waist and let another play in her hair, and he felt her melt. The lips that pecked him once, just once, all those years ago stilled, then softened against his own. When her mouth opened instinctively, he explored it. His fist closed loosely around her hair, a canopy around their faces, and his other hand traced the curve of her waist slowly, from hip to shoulder, just gracing the swell of her chest. She shivered and held him tighter, and Nick gave her a final, softer kiss, and pulled away.

Her eyes were wide, her face flushed. He could feel her trembling, but the smile gracing her just slightly swollen lips allayed any anxiety about his actions. He waited for her to catch her breath as he tried to discipline his own.

"Did you do that with your eyes closed?" she asked.

He laughed, surprised. "Yes. Most people do."

Her smiled widened. "Finally."

Neither lover noticed Norman watching from the window. Susan, because she could not see or hear him, and Nick, because he saw only Susan.

Chapter 10: Back to the Beginning

When Susan stepped out of the car, the sounds threatened to overwhelm her. She gripped Spark's harness tight enough for her knuckles to throb, and listened for Norman's voice. He might not be the most sensitive companion, but his voice was the only familiar element in this hurricane of sound.

Cars, voices, footsteps, doors opening and closing...

"Susan? Would you like to take my arm?" He touched her left elbow, as her right arm was busy with Spark.

She wished for Nicholas's arm, but she nodded. Heaven help her, she was terrified. How easy it was to adapt to blindness in when you hide from the world in the comfort of your home or in familiar paths to the market and church. She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm., and she tried to pretend he was Nick, just until she could be safe from the noise.

XXX

In his home, Nicholas paced the floor, glowering at the carpet. Yes, former king that he was, he skulked in a neighboring yard to watch Susan get into a car with Norman Mallory. She'd looked beautiful, her evening gown a deep and shimmering blue that reminded him of her Narnian royal garb. Add a cape and a golden crown...

It had been too quick before she was gone, the door closed, the car gone, and he'd stomped back to his home, grumbling to himself. Certainly it should be enough to be her preference, to know her affection for him. But he'd seen how nervous she'd been, had longed to be with her, to reassure her. And Norman was certainly insensitive to her needs. She'd be uncomfortable... but safe. He sighed. This was different that saddling her horse and sending her off with Lucy into woods infested with soldiers who would not hesitate to kill her. Yet, it seemed to frighten him almost as much. Back then, Caspian knew the world around him, and back then, Susan shot arrows with deadly accuracy. Now, he was stuck in a world he did not know, and now, she was vulnerable.

He glanced at the clock. Brooding was useless. This was only one night, and he had spent many, many nights without her. A gathering of intellectuals over a fine dinner was not dangerous.

Still, he offered up a prayer. Aslan, be with her.

He settled into the chair near the bookcase to read from the enchanted book, The Golden Age of Narnia: A History. He'd moved the chair next to the bookcase so he could read it- too many steps from the bookcase and it faded into the The Golden Age of Greece and Rome. In this book, he read Susan's story again, over and over, hoping for more details to help her remember Narnia. He fell asleep with the book open in his lap, a rendering of a glowing, open wardrobe filling both pages.

XXX

Susan followed Norman's lead through the crowd of people, listening to fabric swishing, conversations, the click of fine shoes. Spark guided her more effectively than Normal did, nudging to avoid people, walking beside her rather than pulling her. Norman introduced her to people as they went, and Susan felt the awkwardness of being blind every time someone grabbed her hand to shake it, sometimes before she offered it.

She knew her glasses gave it away; that's half of why she wore them. The other reason was to hide how her eyes drifted, how they were starting to become cloudy over time. The other voices were polite, their hands gentle. But when Norman guided her to their seat for dinner, she was relieved. The speakers for the event presented their research as the meal was served.

Susan felt for her utensils, felt for the edges of her bowl, and carefully ate her soup, listening eagerly. Her unease with her companion, her nervousness around the crowd of strangers, even the difficulty of eating could fade away as her mind soaked up the new knowledge.

Her soup grew cold as she listened to a warm voiced American share about the newest development in nuclear power. A hoarse female voice, heavily accented, offered research on group psychological trauma following the second world war as she nibbled on salad. During the entree, the attention of the banquet hall focused in awed silence as Max Theiler described his new anti-yellow fever vaccine. His musical South African accent delighted Susan; she compared it to the lyrical notes of Nick's accent.

As Theiler finished up, Norman put his hand over her own. She flinched. "My apologies," he whispered as she schooled her features. "I just wanted to let you know that I am up next."

She nodded. "Good luck. I am looking forward to hearing about your research."

His hand lingered over her own, so she removed hers to grasp her napkin and dab at her mouth, then busied them to cut at what remained of her chicken.

"Have you enjoyed yourself tonight, Miss Pevensie?"

Though his whisper annoyed her-she was trying to listen!-he sounded so genuinely hopeful that she offered a small smile. "Yes, thank you. I would have loved to attend university. More and more ladies are doing so these days. Tonight has been delightful."

"I am glad to hear it," he responded. "I must go backstage to prepare. Thank you for coming with me, Miss Pevensie."

As soon as he was gone, Susan sighed, feeling her shoulders relax. If he would cease touching her, Norman wouldn't be a terrible companion.

"Excuse me, miss... did Mallory say your name was Pevensie?"

Susan turned her head towards the voice to her left, a rich alto with a hint of Russian accent. "Yes, ma'am. Susan Pevensie."

"My name is Dr. Ursula Belov. It is an honor, Miss Pevensie." Her voice turned somber. "I had hoped to meet you one day; one of my mentors spoke often of you and your family before his death."

Susan froze, fork halfway to her mouth. She set her fork down. "My family?"

"Yes, Miss Pevensie." Regret tinged the Ursula's voice. "I am sorry to bring up painful memories, but I believe you knew my mentor, Professor Kirke. Digory Kirke."

Susan swallowed hard, the sudden tears pricking her eyes. "Yes," she managed. "I did...My brothers and my sister... my family...he was on the train with them when..." She couldn't finish, swallowed hard again to keep the grief at bay.

"I know, Miss Pevensie," Ursula soothed. "And I am deeply sorry. While Professor Kirke was like a father figure to me... I cannot imagine your own loss. But I heard what you said to Mallory. It is true, my dear- more young women are finishing university these days, and if what Digory said about you was half true, I have no doubt that you would have been one of them. He spoke of you and your siblings often while you stayed with him, and long after as well. He loved you all."

Susan smiled, and tremulously lifted her hand, offering it towards Ursula's voice. Soft, wrinkled fingers briefly squeezed her own. "Thank you," Susan said, squeezing back. "Thank you for telling me this."

"He mentioned you especially, once. He considered-" Ursula's sentence stopped as Norman's voice broke in.

"Good evening," he said from the stage.

"Later," Ursula said. "Remind me."

Susan listened as the entree plates were removed, noted the smell of cinnamon and apple with pleasure as Norman began. She was savoring the first bite of a delightful apple crumble when it turned to dust in her mouth.

"My name is Dr. Norman Mallory, and tonight, I shall use my research involving Earth's magnetic fields to offer a theory: the theory of other worlds."

XXX

Caspian found himself walking a wood of dancing trees. When a slim maple uprooted and gently twirled, pointing a root like a ballerina en pointe, he knew he was dreaming. The orange morning light slipping through leaves, the inviting flower faces, following his steps... he smiled. Edmund had surprised him in the halls of Cair Paravel, sobered him with the chess game. But this place was not Edmund's, and nor, Caspian realized with a strange mix of relief and regret, was it Peter's.

He longed for Peter's advice on one hand, because Susan had been so close to her older brother. Yet, he dreaded to encounter the High King, dreaded disappointing him. Though they'd both been so young when they battled together, Peter had lived another lifetime, aging and ruling and legendary.

Caspian started to dart through the trees, dancing between them.

"Queen Lucy!" he called. "Where are you?"

"Here," rang a light voice above him. And by Aslan's mane, there she was, up in the branches of one of the dancing trees, a slow and gentle live oak, legs swinging under the mass of yellow skirts. "Why don't you join me, Caspian?" she called.

Caspian looked down at himself, suddenly aware of his dream body. He wore loose fitting training clothes, not armor, no sword, no shield. He shrugged. Why not? It was so very like Lucy.

"Might I trouble you with another passenger?" he asked of the tree, and suddenly, another branch swung down like an arm. Caspian jumped, grabbing it with his hands. The limb lifted and curved, until he hovered over the branch Lucy faced. Caspian slid off, grabbing hold of sturdy branches so he didn't tumble off. Once he felt confident in his balance, he looked up. And his mouth fell open.

Long gone was the 9 year old girl from Aslan's How. Gone was the spunky 11 year-old who sailed with him on the Dawn Treader. Lucy had died at 17, and at that age, she remained. He swallowed. She favored Peter in her coloring, in her eyes, but he saw Susan in her hair, long and unbound, in the kind smile she offered.

"Queen Lucy," he said, lowering his eyes and dipping his head.

She laughed. "Oh, Caspian. I haven't ruled in so long, and you didn't even know me then. Just Lucy, please."

The tree they sat in set it's roots again but maintained a soft sway, almost like the rocking of a ship.

"As you wish," he said, grinning, because Lucy was always the least intimidating of the Pevensies. The beauty of the dancing forest entranced him. Around them, unseen wood nymphs harmonized with the wind. Could there be any troubles in this place?

"We miss you in Aslan's country," Lucy said. She twirled a strand of long bronze hair, worrying the ends of it. "But there we feel only the hope of your return and the love we have for Susan. It is much like this forest in Aslan's country, is it not? Everything is beautiful and always has been, always will be."

Caspian nodded, but his memories of Aslan's Country were only distant impressions-light, smiles, the smell of the sea and the touch of Aslan's fur. His world was Susan's world now.

"I am making progress, Lucy," he promised. "Susan, she speaks often of her impression that we have met. She told me that she and her siblings imagined another world."

"And you kissed," she teased. "Don't leave out the best part!"

Even in a dream, he looked away, feeling the heat in his cheeks and neck, his smile soft and embarrassed.

"As I said," Caspian murmured. "Progress."

XXX

Norman might not have been surprised that his audience received his outlandish speech with some doubt, but the uproar that followed was unexpected. Anger or disbelief or fear or even outright laughter met his proposals, sending the young man into a depressed state. For several days he left Susan alone, to her delight and Nick's immense satisfaction. On one of these days, he and Miss Dawn arranged an outing. Given that neither Susan nor Nick could drive, Miss Dawn called upon an old friend who owed her a favor and the day trip was arranged.

Early in the morning, a certain Mr. Cherrywood pulled up outside of Susan's home; Nick was there to meet him and verify that their destination was correct and the timing would suit. Dawn bustled about making them a picnic basket filled with enough snacks to keep them satisfactorily fed and hydrated throughout the day. Susan sat, listening to all of this commotion, with Spark leaning against her leg and excitement pounding in her chest.

Eventually, Dawn found everything packed to her satisfaction and Nick found the driver sufficiently trustworthy and informed, and so it was time to set off. Mr. Cherrywood was to deliver them to the train station and pick them up from it when they arrived home again.

"And you won't tell me where we are going?" Susan tried once more, as Nick helped her into the backseat. She slid to the middle so that Spark could settle comfortably beside her.

"Nope," Nick said. He made sure the dog's tail was out of the way and shut the door, then hurried around to the other side of the backseat to join her. "A surprise is a surprise."

Susan huffed, but he could see the delight in her face. She still covered her eyes with the dark sunglasses, but behind them, he knew she was enjoying the fuss.

"With Nicholas and Spark about you'll be safer than you tend to prefer," Dawn surmised, leaning in through the open window on Nick's side. "I'll see you back this evening, my dear! Perhaps by then Norman will be back from wherever it is he went off to sulk about his research."

Susan blew a kiss in Dawn's direction. "Thank you for the picnic, Miss Dawn."

"Tut, it was nothing. Now get on with you, you're wasting daylight!"

No one could argue with that, so they set off. When they were settled on the train for the trip, Susan's excitement gave way to apprehension. He saw it in the way her fingers whitened around her arm rests.

"Are you sure you are ready? It is okay not to be," Nick said quietly as passengers bustled around them.

Susan allowed him to hold her hand. "Logically, I know that the odds of being in a second terrible train accident are very low," she said. "Yet, still... I am afraid, Nicholas. And part of me is ashamed and quite tired of feeling afraid."

Nick returned the gentle squeeze of her hand. "Fear is a logical thing; it is an emotion that keeps us safe. Your body, your heart feels fear because once, a train hurt you and stole away everyone you loved. There is no shame in feeling fear. I'm with you, and I will always protect you as best I can."

She believed him, somehow. Her heart slowed a little, and she opened her mouth to change the subject, but he spoke first.

"Besides... things never happen the same way twice."

Susan's heart leapt, and it wasn't from the train easing into motion. "What did you say?" That terrible sensation that she was forgetting something important itched in the back of her mind.

Nick said again, "Things never happen the same way twice. I heard it once, from a dear friend."

Aslan's words seemed to grab the threads of Susan's memory and tug. She said, "I've heard this before. It sounds right." And she smiled and let Caspian take her hand.

She was quiet for most of the train ride, yet she never dozed off. At one point, when he thought she might be asleep, Susan whispered, "Something good happened to me on a train once. I just can't remember what it was."

XXX

From the train station, Nick hailed a taxi and gave the destination in a low voice so Susan couldn't hear. The two of them and Spark crammed into the back seat of the taxi, and Susan pulse pounded in her heart. When Susan asked for a description of the landscape, he obliged, describing it with enough detail to satisfy her. In fact, the closer they came, the more quiet she became. When the car pulled into the drive, Susan was sitting ramrod straight, hands clenched into fists, listening to Nick describe the house.

"Are we... are we at the Professor's house?" she finally whispered.

Nick said, "Yes. Do you want to go inside? Dawn helped me to arrange this visit; the caretaker has agreed to let us inside and to have a picnic on the grounds. Professor Kirke had specified before his death that any of the Pevensies would be welcome at any time." And Nick hoped, he fiercely hoped that she was ready.

In answer, Susan opened the car door, allowing Spark to hop out. Then, once she had his harness in her hand, she stepped out of the car, and closed the door. She took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders, and slowly blew the air out between her lips.

As she collected herself, Nick gathered their picnic basket and made arrangements for the driver to return for them in a few hours. He stood next to Susan, looking up towards the old house. "Shall we?"

Susan answered, "I'll follow you wherever you go."

Once inside, Susan let one hand trace the wall, took a few steps forward, and, right where she expected it to be, found the railing leading upstairs. Heart pounding, she said, with a small smile, "Or perhaps you can follow me."

She navigated the stairs with care, unaware of how Caspian kept his hands out, just in case she stumbled. At the landing, Susan paused, remembering, and then took off to the left. Without thinking much about it, she ended up navigating another pair of stairs at the end of the hall and ending up in a room tucked off in a high corner of the house, where a tall wardrobe, carefully dusted by the caretaker, dominated the room.

She knew it was there, knew it even before her hands traced the smooth sides of the wardrobe. "We played this game once, my siblings and I," she said, fingers closing over the handle. "It all started with Hide-and-Seek, and Lucy, she was so good at hiding. She came all the way up here, and she hid in the wardrobe. She told us she found another world inside it. And this game, somehow, we all believed it, even Peter and I. That the wardrobe took us to a new world and there, we were not children running from war. We were kings and queens of Narn-" she stopped. Swallowed. "Narnia. And there, it was said, that 'Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen or Narnia.'" She laughed, a little breathlessly. "It was a comforting fantasy."

When Nick said nothing, she turned around, her free arm drifting up, reaching for him. "Nick?"

Behind her Nick was kneeling. He reached up for her hand and guided it down to his face.

"Are you kneeling?" Susan laughed a little, baffled.

"Of course," he said. "Once a queen, always a queen, Your Majesty. Queen Susan."

Time froze for a moment as the words sank in and touched something deeply buried in Susan's heart. She struggled with it, her rational mind wrestling with the memories that felt like silly dreams, filled with memories of the ones she missed most. And the wall cracked, cracked more than it ever had before.

Then, she laughed, and tugged him to his feet. "It was a wonderful game," she said. But Nick saw the doubt in her eyes. And he hoped.

XXX

Outside Professor Kirke's house, in a corner of the grounds that he knew the gardener had already tended today, Norman Mallory, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, dug furiously. The shovel slung dirt to the side, over and over, until he paused to wipe sweat from his eyes.

"They have to be here," he muttered, then continued to dig.

XXXX

Thanks for reading! I swear, this thing will be finished one day! :)

-rosa