Disclaimer: All names, places, and characters contained herein are property of C.S. Lewis. I am making no profit from the writing of this story; I did it for purely entertainment purposes.

Note: I realize that this scenario has been played out a thousand times, but the bunny bit and I had to try my hand at it. This is my first Narnia fic, so feedback is appreciated, especially concrit.

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The day my world ended, I did nothing of significance. I'd like to say that I did something profound and meaningful, but after the end of my world, nothing held any meaning anymore. Nothing mattered and I would be a liar if I tried to say otherwise.

Even the admission that I was wrong and they were right held no meaning. They were gone forever and I would never have the chance to apologize and admit my mistake and ask them to forgive me.

'How can you say such a thing?' she asks as you laugh away the memory from your childhood. 'Don't you remember?'

'There is nothing else to remember,' you reply, looking over your shoulder to the full-length mirror behind you. There is a fancy party tonight and you must make sure that your slip isn't showing in the back. 'They were just games we played to pass the time until we could come home again. Honestly, Lucy, aren't you a little old to still be pretending that they were real?'

She doesn't answer and you hardly notice when she leaves, your mind already forgetting the conversation as you check your makeup for the third time.

I was at home, getting ready for an evening on the town with friends, when I got the news. A messenger handed me the telegram and then left. There was no one there to catch me when I fell, no one to pick up the dropped sheet of paper, no one to wipe away my black tears.

For the first time in my life, I was completely and utterly alone.

'What do you mean, you don't remember?' he asks, clearly flabbergasted. 'A war was nearly started over you and you don't remember?'

'I remember our little game about Narnia, but I can't recall any specifics,' you answer distractedly, carefully brushing your hair, eyes focused on your reflection. 'And I can't believe that you're still bringing that up, after all these years, Edmund. You should know better; it confuses Lucy.'

'I'm not the one who's confusing Lucy,' he says, his frustration evident in his raised voice. 'It's you who's confusing her, by pretending that Narnia doesn't exist!'

You can see from his reflection that he is glaring at the back of your head, but you don't give it any thought. If you don't concentrate on your hair, it could end up ruined and you can't go out with ruined hair.

I thought that the funeral would be the worst part of the whole ordeal. Five coffins, all lined up in a neat row in front of five beautiful headstones, all of them containing what could be found of my family.

As terrible as that day was, I was wrong.

Going to my childhood home for the first time was devastating. Everything was just as Mum had left it. Ed's bedroom was a mess; he had promised Mum that he would clean it as soon as he got back from London. Lucy's room was tidy as always, her little stuffed lion in its place of honor atop her pillows. Peter's old room was just as he had left it when he went away to college: bed neatly made, clothes folded in the chest of drawers, a writing pad and pen on the desk.

My old room was empty. I had taken all of my possessions with me when I had moved out to start my own life.

'Why do you deny it?' he asks one evening after dinner while you are cleaning up as a favor to your mother.

'Deny what?' you ask in return, rinsing a plate and setting it in the draining rack, never once taking your eyes from your task.

'Narnia.' He is right beside you, his voice barely more than a whisper. 'Ed and Lu have told me that you've been claiming that it was only a silly little game we played. You and I both know that it was more than that. Even if you can no longer bear to remember Narnia, for whatever reason, you should still be able to feel that you are different from other girls. You are a Queen, Susan.'

'We pretended that we were kings and queens, Peter, but that didn't make us real royalty,' you reply, finally turning away from the sink to face your brother. 'I am no queen, just as you are no king, Peter.'

'Once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen,' he recites, his eyes boring into yours. After a moment, he turns and walks away leaving you, feeling unsettled, to finish your chore.

That was all so long ago now. I've lived a long and lonely life, my dreams plagued with memories of those I lost, some memories that may never have happened. Lately, I've seen my siblings in my slumber, not as they were, but as they never had the opportunity to be, grown and beautiful. More often than not, they are with others who I feel I should recognize but don't, in a land that I almost think I know.

After these dreams, I clutch Lucy's old stuffed lion to my chest, burying my face in its mane. I can't begin to understand why this gesture is so comforting, almost familiar. All I know is that afterwards, I am able to sleep peacefully.

'Daughter of Eve.'

The gentle voice startles you and you suddenly feel unreasonably afraid. You don't even know who it is who is standing behind you in this beautiful landscape, but you feel that he is the reason you are here. Trembling, you turn slowly.

You fall to your knees at the sight before you. Your entire family, all young and beautiful, are standing arrayed around the most beautiful, majestic lion you have ever laid eyes upon. You feel tears slide down your cheeks, not knowing why you are crying.

'I'm sorry, sir, I'm so sorry,' you sob, not feeling worthy to look at the lion, looking instead at the grass between his paws. Slowly, you begin to remember this land and your life here and your sobs grow stronger, your words stumbling over one another until finally you give up your apologies.

Suddenly, a warm breeze blows over your face, drying your tears, calming your troubled soul, strengthening your heart. You look up; the lion's face is so close that his whiskers tickle your cheeks. His eyes are warm and kind and welcoming, yet sad at the same time.

'Oh, Aslan, I'm so sorry,' you manage to choke out as you begin to cry anew. 'I was trying to be an adult so badly that I convinced myself that you were just a figment of my imagination. I never meant to hurt you or Peter or Edmund or Lucy. Please, is there anyway that you can forgive me?'

'All has been forgiven.' As Aslan speaks, his breath once more washes over you, drying your tears, giving you the strength to keep your head held high. 'Now rise, Queen Susan, and bid farewell to the Shadowlands.'

End