A/N: Hello, everyone! This is my second Narnia fic, dedicated to SashaWPevensie, my old, old and very best friend. This idea popped into my head after I had come out of a movie theatre, when I had been desperately trying to concieve an idea for a story. It is a rather silly plot, but I wanted to type it out, and Christine12 thought it was...different, so I did.
This features my Narnia OC, Lorna Bates, who is the unnamed girl in my previous story The Wars We Wage. This story also takes place in real-time, i.e. present day London.
Read and review, please - every comment makes a difference!
Ai - NPR
Counting Into the Hundreds
It wasn't her fault, and she repeatedly tells herself that, but she never actually believes it.
The movie was 'brill', as it was their lingo. They ran down the steps of the theatre and into the main shopping mall, chattering excitedly about how hot the actors were, and how beautiful the actresses were, and what a romantic setting it had been for a film. Definitely Teen Choice Award material. But she knew it was bullshit, for things never worked out the way it did in movies.
The masks she wears all seem to frown, for she has forgotten to smile.
She clung onto her purse, feeling awkward about walking around in jeans after such a long time. For back home, these clothes were taboo socially, and she had graced many an occasion in an elegant ball gown, sown by the stars, glowing like embers on her as he swept her around with the twinkle in his eye that she missed so much.
Her heart cannot break, because it is no longer hers to hold on to.
Her friends say something, and she nods dumbly. They seem confused, and repeat themselves. She simply waves them off, preferring to isolate herself, to seal herself off from the world that means nothing to her. Her cell phone rings, but she turns it off. Her friends nod sadly, wondering where the once bubbly teen went, leaving behind nothing but a broken girl, a shell of sorts in her place.
Life is just a blur, one menial task after another, with only the fragments of what had been to hold on to.
Where were the trees and flowers now? Or the dryads and the fauns that danced by fires, or the mermaidens that sang on the rocks by the Old Cair, or the birds that pecked your breakfast out of your hand when you weren't looking? Where were the nights she'd spent with him, discussing trade relations and boring charters, then laying down next to him and thinking that life couldn't get better? Or the feeling that you held the world in the palm of your hand when you watched the sun sink into the sea with him?
Nature replaced by factory spires, love replaced by immense hate.
Where was her little boy now? The one she'd cleaned up after when he dragged himself home, covered in rain? The one who'd cried when he'd fallen off his first horse? The one who'd fought with all his strength at his first swordfight, just to impress his parents? The one who'd fought along with his father in the bloody battlefields? Gone. Her family – her real family – was gone. And she hated it.
But forget she never will, because there'll always be someone to remind her.
She snaps back to reality, only to notice that her 'friends' have long deserted her. Fresh tears spring into her eyes, and she tries to wipe them, fearing that the hordes in the mall will see her and snicker cruelly. She looks around, hoping no one has recognized her, only to find a pair of haunting blue eyes staring at her from the crowds. These are eyes she has seen only once, and whatever little time they had spent together had been enough to burn them permanently into her memory. She wonders if she would remember her at all.
Facing the steps that led into the movie theatre, Susan Pevensie-Donahue stares into Lorna Bates' face, wondering the exact same thing.
"It's been so long," Susan said wistfully as they settled into two of the plastic chairs that littered the food court.
"You look the same, Su, even after…everything," Lorna finished lamely, as she placed a steaming mug of coffee in front of Susan.
"A lot happened, didn't it? Ouch," said Susan, taking a sip of extremely hot coffee, and then awkwardly smiling at the visibly broken teenager. "Coffee's too hot." Lorna smiled absently.
Strained silence followed.
"So," asked Lorna, breaking into a smile after what seemed like decades, "how are things?"
"Not bad," Susan cupped her hands and placed her chin in it. To the world, it merely looked like a grandma-granddaughter day out, instead of two regal queens discussing their glory days. "I came – or rather, was dragged out here by my daughter and her two delightfully playful children."
"Oh, got married, did you?"
"Oh yes. I realized that I couldn't bear to live alone for too long. I found a man who loved me, and we were quite happy together."
"Hm," Lorna stirred her coffee with a plastic spoon. "I don't think you were ever alone, Su. Peter guarded you like a hawk. And Ed and Lu were always by your side, whenever you needed them." To her surprise, a tear fell down Susan's cheek.
"He's dead, Lorrie. All of them are. That's why I couldn't be alone." Splat. Splat.
"I'm sorry, Su. Really, I am." Lorna leaned over and hugged the old woman, feeling her cold, clammy skin on her own. She pulled back and studied Susan's face. She had always been ageless. And all the men in the court had noticed it.
"Enough about me, Lorrie." Susan wiped away her tears. "It's been years and years. How is life treating you?"
"It's been a hell of a month," she said bitterly. "I miss home. I miss my family. I miss it all And I'm never going back. I know it."
"You had family in Narnia?"
"I had a life in Narnia, unlike here. I had a husband who loved me, and a son who adored me. Here, I'm just another nameless face in the crowd, and I'm going to be just like everybody else – someone who works to feed themselves till they die." The steam that had accumulated within her was slowly pushing itself out.
"A husband, hm?" Susan wiped her brow thoughtfully. "Was it that Octan chap who fancied you so much? Or was it Lord Sectoran? He liked you, I could tell, and I think," Susan winked, "that you like him too."
Lorna blushed, then felt guilty. "No, it wasn't them." She twiddled with a chain around her neck, memories flooding back into her mind. She has to know the truth.
She unclasped the chain and handed it wordlessly to the older lady, avoiding her eyes. Susan ran her fingers on the gold locket, feeling the intricate carvings that reminded her of her own days back home. She opened the locket, and read the inscription inside.
Elegance turns to grace
As love turns to passion.
Miracles happen
If you just believe.
From Caspian.
Susan's heart broke, but certainly not for the first time.
"He loved you."
Susan looked up from the locket, and stared into the eyes of the girl before her, whose eyes were tearing up fast. "I think he loved you more than he loved me. He never let go of you, really."
Susan didn't want to let go of the chain, and Lorna sensed it. She clasped Susan's hands. "You should keep it. Maybe it was really meant for you."
"I couldn't." Susan pushed the locket back into Lorna's hands. She wiped away a few tears. "He gave it to you. Not me. Keep it. I have…other things which bring back good memories."
The strained silence returned, and both of them sipped their now stone-cold coffee.
Susan started suddenly. "You know, I gave up on Him a long, long time ago too. It always hurts when you remember that He was the one who uprooted you."
"He said I'd never go back. That I'd learnt my lessons."
"That's the same thing He told me. But, you know, one never really stops learning." A twinkle came into Susan's eyes, and vanished just as fast as it had arrived. "After they passed away, I never talked to anyone, or went out anywhere. I'd just sit at home alone, not eating or sleeping. I'd wander around the house aimlessly, going into their rooms, staring at whatever photographs we had. I lost myself."
"Is there a moral here?" Lorna snapped, not wanting to listen to long stories.
"I don't know. I realized that, sooner or later, I'd have to join the rest of the world again. So I made a list. A list of the things that had delighted me. To my surprise, most were Narnian. The list went into the hundreds." Susan exhaled. "A list of good memories, and better days."
"Are you saying I should make this list?" Lorna asked.
"I'm just saying that it could help you. Give it a shot. Comfort comes in different ways." Before anything else could be said, a harried looking woman ran to their table, with two young children in tow. "There you are, mum! Why'd you run off like that? You scared me!" The lady looked at Lorna. "Who's this, mum? I'm sorry," she said to Lorna. "We just moved into this neighborhood."
"Hello, Sindy," Susan smiled. "Lorna, this is my daughter, Sindy Perrault, and my grandchildren, Torrance and Ryan."
"We have to go, mum, or we'll be late for your appointment," Sindy started, and then hoisted Ryan onto her shoulder. "Perhaps Lorna has other places to be."
"Oh, no, I'm good," said Lorna idly. "My friends are gone. I'm just window shopping."
"Alright," Sindy narrowed her eyes. "Well, mum, I'll pop into the hypermarket and get the kids something to munch on, and we'll leave then. Would you like something?"
"No, thanks, Sindy," Susan smiled. "I'm fine."
As Sindy merged into the mingling crowds, Lorna turned to Susan. "An appointment? As in a doctor's appointment?"
Susan sighed. "Unfortunately, yes."
Lorna glared at Susan. "What's going on, Su? What aren't you telling me?"
Susan sighed again. "I'm undergoing chemotherapy, Lorrie. I don't think I have much time left." She smiled reassuringly at Lorna. "Don't worry about me. I'm just really glad I met you today. I'll get to see everyone again."
"This sucks," Lorna cried. "This reeks!"
"Lorrie, keep your voice down," Susan warned. "I want this. I'm fed up of waiting. I'll finally go back, back where I belong."
"Great. Maybe I should come too. Slit my wrists or something."
"Don't talk like that!" Susan snapped. "Don't you dare."
"Relax, Su, I'm not suicidal."
"I have to go now, Lorrie. But remember what I said. Let's keep in touch," Susan got up and walked into the crowds, waving at Lorrie, who looked as though she were in another world.
Goodbye, Su. I hope that I can be as strong as you.
The next week, Lorna Bates opened her front door to see an exquisitely carved wardrobe sitting on her front porch, and a transparent plastic bag holding two rings hanging on it's knobs.
For the first time in weeks, Lorna felt the sun caress her cheeks.
Thanks for reading! Please review!