Disclaimer: I don't own anything herein, and am making no money off this.

A/N: Bridging the gap between pure Narnia and ECverse.

CORINTHIANS

"Is that it, then?" Subdued tones, that she'd only ever heard from the High King in the wake of a battle.

Edmund slumped on the floor against the settee, long legs stretched out across dark hardwood lit with the gold of afternoon sunshine. "Yeah."

"I can't believe she really left." Lucy clasped her hands together to keep herself from wringing them. One step took her to the settee, and she curled up behind Edmund, seeking comfort. His head, covered in unruly black locks so like their missing sister's, tilted back to rest against her knee; a small, warm point of contact. "She just – she's gone."

The words Susan had spoken still hung harshly in the air, their echoes razor-sharp with accusations and hurt.

"You're all acting as if this is completely normal," she bit out. Black hair flew as Su spun to pull another over-stuffed suitcase to the door. "It's not something you can pretend away, or blame on a silly game we played when we were children. Look at us!"

"Su, we're fine," Edmund tried. "There's nothing wrong -"

"How can you say that!"

"It'll all come right in the end, Lu," Peter murmured. Perched on the same wing-backed chair that he had claimed their first night here, he sounded as determinedly cheerful as they all had upon arriving at the Mansion in the wake of the Blitz.

Edmund sighed. "I don't see how."

"But we don't, usually," Lucy pointed out. "Not when we first got to Narnia, and not when we were called back to help Caspian."

"If you're not going to do anything about it, then I will. I'm going to find out what's happened to us that made us like this."

"Susan, nothing happened!" Peter cried.

"Peter's right," Lucy added. "It's just Narnia -"

"Don't you say that." Susan's voice was deadly quiet. "I don't want to hear that word from any of you."

Horror struck Lucy's heart. "Susan . . ."

"It was just a game, Lucy!" Susan yelled, blue eyes flashing with anger. "Games don't do this to people!"

Edmund hit a hand against the doorframe, the temper of the Just finally breaking free. "You're so afraid, you can't even say it!"

"This can't be the end," she murmured, now determined. "Peter's right. We're in Aslan's paws, and He's always guided us, even when we weren't listening." Even then it was all part of His plan.

Ed shifted against the hard floor, hands wiping over his face. "I hope you're right."

"We just need to have faith in Aslan." Lucy could feel tension slip out of her shoulders at the thought of the Lion, with his sweet breath and great shaggy mane, even through memories recent enough to cut.

Fair features were set; blue eyes stubborn over a full-lipped mouth pressed tight. "I love you. I do. I just can't be around you anymore."

"But Susan, America -" Uncharacteristically, Ed floundered.

Beep-Beep!

The taxi was here.

"It's just so far," Lucy said helplessly.

Susan's laugh was mirthless; Lucy saw Peter jerk away at the sound. "It's barely far enough."

"Just like that, then?" But a smile was back in Peter's face, and he was leaning forward, now – not slumped down as if the old chair was the only thing holding him up.

"No one said it was going to be easy," Ed shot back, finding a genuine smile from somewhere to give to them. "He's with us, but he doesn't just come whenever you call him. After all -"

"He's not a tame lion," they chorused together, just the three of them. And it was familiar, if not perfect; Susan hadn't wanted to 'play Narnia' with them for years before she decided to put an ocean between them.

"Don't write, unless it's an emergency."

Peter froze, but her glare was enough to nudge him back into motion; lifting her cases into the taxi's boot. Ed was putting the last of her bags in the backseat of the car. It looked like nearly everything she owned had made its way into the cab.

"You have to be careful, or people are going to notice. That's the last thing I need." Susan wrapped her arms around Lucy in a brief hug; Lu barely got a chance to squeeze back before her sister was pulling away, opening the taxi door.

Ed's frown was a mutinous thing, taking over his face. "If that's what you want."

She slid into the back seat without a pause. "It is."

"Right, then," Lucy bounced to her feet, nudging a complaining Edmund on the way. "Who's for tea?"

The kitchen was warm and welcoming, the slate floor and ancient oaken table unchanged from their days as children. At least some good things don't change, Lucy decided. They were settled in with large mugs to stave off the late autumn chill when the Professor made his slow way through the door.

His skin was almost translucent with the years it mapped, though blue eyes twinkled as sharply as ever. He'd kept well out of their way during the fight that had so briefly rung through the high ceilings and narrow hallways of the Mansion, as was his wont. But now compassion shone out at them from every line in his face. "So that's it, then."

"Yes," Ed confirmed, voice glum. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, and took a swig of too-sugary chamomile. The question none of them wanted to ask hung silently in the air.

Where is Queen Susan?

"Our sister Susan," Peter said gravely, "is no longer a friend of Narnia."

Lucy was not going to cry; she took a sip from her mug and cast a prayer out to Aslan. But maybe one day, she will be again.

Fin