A/N: Here's the final chapter, the Epilogue. I don't want the story to end yet (it's so much fun to write) and yet it just worked that way. ALSO, based on my story, pevensiePOTTER made a banner for this story. There's a link to it on my profile. Here's another THANKYOU for it.

Epilogue

September 17, 1949

My Dearest Marjorie,

How I have missed you this past year! It's been strange not seeing you every day as we did at school. It's been hard too, not having someone with me when I wish to talk of Narnia. Susan's at home of course, but you know she's no good for that sort of thing, and it seems I never see Peter and Edmund either.

Luckily, this week everyone is around – Eustace and Jill have school holidays and we're making the most of them. The Professor and Aunt Polly came up as well, and next Tuesday we plan on having a Narnian dinner! I'd love for you to come, if you find some way of getting out of that visit with your aunt. Let me know if you can come, and I'll make sure to set another place at the table for you. After all, you are a friend of Narnia too, even if you've never actually been there. I swear you know the stories better than I do!

Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I am missing you. Please write soon (perhaps it will relieve the terrible boredom of your aunt's). I look forward to hearing from you soon. And I promise I will let you know all about our Narnian dinner.

May Aslan be with you always,

Lucy Pevensie

Marjorie held the paper tight in her left hand as she looked down at the grave. A gust of wind made the paper flap wildly, but Marjorie's grip was sure. Her eyes were red from tears that had poured for hours; tears that seemed to have run out, although she was sure there would be more by nightfall. It was all she could do to stand up right, rather than crumple to the ground in despair.

The words carved in the tombstone were clear, not yet subjected long to the elements. The message they held was short and emotionless.

Lucy Pevensie
1932-1949
Forever Valiant

Marjorie looked down at the tombstone and felt the tears returning to her eyes. What would the Narnians think, she wondered, to learn that their Valiant Queen had died in such a mindless accident? That she didn't even see it coming! Her hand tightened around the letter, her last link to her best friend. She was only seventeen!

Presently she looked up through the tears to see a woman in the distance, walking slowly through the rows of graves as if reluctant to find the one she was looking for. As she came nearer, Marjorie realized with a start that this was Susan – a much different Susan than she had ever known. She looked as though she hadn't cared what she wore when she had dressed, and her hair was messy and tangled, and though thrown quickly into a bun with little thought.

Susan didn't say anything as she stopped beside Marjorie. Her eyes were red too; not surprising since Susan had lost her entire family in the accident. Marjorie began to feel guilty for being there when Susan most likely wanted to be alone. She said a silent farewell to her friend and turned to go.

"Stay."

The single word, combined with a simple touch of a hand to her shoulder, made Marjorie pause. She had never really known Susan, other than as her friend's sister and vaguely as the "lost" queen, and she couldn't imagine why Susan whould seek her company.

"I'm sure she's happy," Susan said in a broken voice.

Marjorie tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace.

"I'm sure… I'm sure she's fine. They're all fine," Susan continued. "They're in Aslan's country now."

Marjorie's mouth dropped open, not because she had never before heard the name, but because she had never thought to hear it come from Susan's mouth.

"I know Lucy told you," Susan murmured. "And I know that you believe. You're smarter than I am in that sense. I forgot."

Marjorie didn't know what to say, or how to comfort this obviously broken queen.

"I never really faced death here. I knew about the war, but I was apart from it – it was just an abstract concept to me. Father went away to fight in the war. Mother stayed home despite the bombings. But despite that, I didn't really realize that they might… die." Susan paused for a breath. "But There… in Narnia, I faced death all the time. In the fight against the White Witch, I knew my brothers might not come back alive. And during our reign, whenever they went off to war – and Lucy often went with them – I would fear for their lives, and knew I was helpless to save them. I always seemed to know that I would be the one left behind; that I would be the one to stay home and grow old while the others died in battle."

Marjorie placed her hand on Susan's arm. It was an insignificant gesture, but she couldn't think of what else to do.

"I was right," Susan continued. "The others died on their way to battle. Did Lucy tell you why they were on that train?"

Marjorie could only shake her head in confusion.

"She had an unfinished letter to me in her pocket," Susan replied, "along with a fine silvery dust. They had seen a Narnian at their dinner party, and were fetching the rings to send Eustace and Jill back to Narnia. The dust is all that remains of the rings – there is no way of getting back now."

Marjorie still didn't know what to say.

"I found my diary among Lucy's things," Susan continued, closer to tears now than Marjorie had ever seen her. "There was a note inside the front cover." She pulled out a faded paper, slightly crumpled, from her pocket, and handed it to Marjorie.

Susan,
Your secrets are safe from me. Remember the raven.
Lucy

Marjorie's throat closed up at the sight of her late friend's handwriting, and it was a moment before she could find her voice.

"I… I always thought she read it." Marjorie touched the writing, instinctively knowing the words to be true. "What raven does she mean?"

"It was an old Narnian poem," Susan explained, smiling shakily. "Lucy loved it.

"See the raven,

Watch it fly to nest,

Hidden secrets in its beak,

Ne'er to spill,

Remember the raven,

And keep thy secret still.

"Lucy used to tell me to remember the raven when she knew I was keeping secrets from her. It meant she wasn't going to press me, but she'd be waiting for me when I was ready to tell her. It's her way of telling me that she really didn't read the diary. She would never have mentioned the raven otherwise."

Marjorie took her hand and looked down at the grave again, marvelling the friend who had had the strength to resist such a secret. Susan said no more, and neither did Marjorie, but when at last Marjorie left, she knew that she had made a new friend, there at the grave of the Valiant Queen, and she offered up a little prayer of thanks that she had had the privilege to know Lucy and her secret.

So that's it. Reviews would be a very pleasant joy to me, whether they contain critisizm or praise. Then I know people are actually READING my stories. Thanks again to everyone who reviewed already (and who will review!)
WingedFlight