Author's Note: My gift fic to fandom. I'm fourteen today.

In Ignorance

In ignorance, we find bliss, a bliss that warms us and comforts us and embraces us. It gives us everything that we wanted, shielding us from the evils of the world. But, if it hides ignorance, bliss throws us on to the street, letting evils crash down on us, one by one, until we are suffocated by it all.

This is how Susan feels as she watches the messenger walk away. Who knew that she would come back from Sarah's party to find her family dead? She certainly didn't. She glances at the wire once more, her eyes running over the print. Her too-red lips are turned in a twisted, strained smile. Her glossy hair delicately, gently falls in her eyes. She will not cry.

It would ruin her make-up.

She wanders into her home, the paper still in her hands. Susan shuts the door and pulls off her coat. Her face is contorted, looking as if she is about to cry. But her eyes are as dry as the Sahara. She tears the paper with well-manicured hands, the pieces fluttering to the ground. She stares at the largest piece, the word burning holes into her.

Dead.

In ignorance, we find freedom, a freedom that liberates us from everyday life and puts us in a new, more exciting life. But, if it hides ignorance, freedom can very well bestow a number of responsibilites that you once left hanging, until you are trapped by the work that comes with it.

Susan wonders about the irony that she now faces. She remembers the last words she had said to her older brother: I'll be here when you get back from your wild goose-chase. Who knew they would leave her forever? Her expression screws up in deep thought. She feels no pain, no sorrow, no regret. She's been separated from her siblings for so long, that she no longer can tell if they are there or are not.

She stands stock-still, watching as the caskets are lowered. She looks exactly as she feels - her face devoid of emotion, her eyes downcast, her position like the one that can be toppled over by a breath of wind. She pretends that her newest beau's arms comfort her, pretends that the words of the mourners make a difference, pretends as she has always pretended.

Her heart aches, but no one needs to know that.

Susan no longer finds bliss nor freedom nor knowledge in society. Her once trendy clothes look trashy now and her once painted and powdered face looks white without make-up. And it seems that society has changed with her. The men that she had liked now she finds hating. Their gazes are smothered in lust and greed, the same ones that she had thought had looked admiring and fond. Her friends no longer find her fun.

With time, she changes for the good. She wanders into orphanages and hospitals instead of balls and social events. The ones who deserve her dazzling smile receive it, and those who don't get it are bestowed with a scowl or frown. She doesn't complain about her work, but she wishes for a better life.

Susan dreams of flashing, silk gowns trailing on the floor, waltzes played by no band of humans, and a crown that was once on her brow. She wonders why she is surprised to see the ocean water a blue-green instead of a blue that is not found in any of the four corners of the earth.

One day, she comes out of the hospital where she works as a nurse. Peter's friends from Oxford pass her, talking about - who else? - her brother.

"Can you believe it's been six months?" one of them says.

"It's a shame really," another answers. "He was good, that one." No, Susan thinks, he was magnificent.

A few hours later, whether its fate or pure coincidence, Edmund's friends sit at a nearby table at the restaurant where she is eating dinner.

"Edmund could have made it," a redhead says. "He was smart, that one." No, Susan thinks, he was just.

The days fly by and Susan ponders as to why the words just and magnificent sound so familiar. It wasn't until Lucy's friends showed up that she finally figured it out. They stand in front of her on line in the bookstore. Though they are a few places in front of her, she can still hear them.

"Lucy was a gentle spirit, wasn't she?" Nostalgia hit her, nearly leaving her breathless. No, Susan thinks, she was valiant. Then she smiles as she gets out of her line, placing the book on a random shelf. She leaves the store and thinks, And I was gentle.

In ignorance, we find happiness. But nothing - nothing - can beat true happiness.

Susan wonders how she could have made it.

She grins as Lucy runs to her, looking jubilant as she always has been and always will be. In that moment, everyone finally realizes something - they are both of equal beauty, neither of them a particle more of eye-pleasing fairness. She sees her brothers racing towards her as well. The three embrace her as if they hadn't seen her in years. The four lose their balance, but none of them are angry. Instead, they laugh as the two Kings pull her up, smiling like lunatics. Lucy pushes her brothers aside and seizes her hand. She leads her - their brothers are bringing up the rear - and she finds herself standing in front of the magnificent creature that had brought her here.

Susan sinks to her knees and she realizes that she has nothing to say. But then, there is nothing to say. Her blue eyes meet the golden ones of the Great Lion. There's love and kindness in his irises as she throws her arm around his neck, letting her fingers tangle themselves in the soft mane of fur that feels so familiar.

"Welcome, Daughter of Eve," he says. And she is finally - finally - home.