(no subject)
Susan wakes from her sleep to find herself in a dark, unfamiliar room. She is startled for a moment, but then she feels Lucy beside her and remembers where she is. If she's awake from sleep, then she can't be in a dream. This is real.
Her sister and her brothers are dead and yet they live. Susan believed in such miracles once.
She believed in many things, once. Tonight she let herself begin to believe once again.
Tonight she let herself be closer to her family than she'd been in years.
They still don't know, though, about the secrets she holds close to her. The secrets that nearly ruined her life at age eighteen.
She'd moved out of their family home then, sharing a flat with two other girls. Her looks and taste soon led her into a fast, decadent world in which a girl could be paid well just for dressing up and looking pretty for fashion presentations and private showings of designer collections. She was soon swept into London society and she was treated, she thought, as the queen she'd once been.
Henry, Lord Winthrop, had been one of the first to notice her beauty and grace. He was young and dashing, and Susan was too naive to know he was also a hunter, and she his quarry. She'd always loved being pursued by handsome men. In Narnia she'd had suitor upon suitor, and she entertained each one. She wasn't false, and she never acted in an inappropriate way, aside from sweet, stolen kisses and caresses from her favorites.
She ought to have remembered Prince Rabadash. Being estranged from her family, there was no one there to protect her honor when Henry seduced her.
He promised her marriage to get her into his bed. Susan discovered to her great horror that his promises were lies. He grew tired of her soon after, discarding her to run after the next pretty young thing to come along.
When she told him she was with child - his child - he laughed. He gave her money "to take care of it". Susan threw the money to the floor and walked away, knowing she was disgraced and her new life over before it had a chance to begin.
Susan had always hated killing. Abortion, though she knew in theory that such a thing existed, had never crossed her mind.
A few days later, as she tried to figure out what she would do when she started showing - there was no way she could return home to the shame and disappoint that would surely be waiting for her - she miscarried.
As she lies in this strange bed, the tears flowing freely and silently from her eyes, she still grieves for her lost child. She grieves for all that has been lost and might still be so.
She'd told Alain, the quiet, kind man she'd met before she'd seen Lucy and the others, that she hadn't called upon the Lord Christ in years.
Now, as she allows herself to remember Narnia and Aslan - dear Aslan, his soft fur under her fingers, the peace he brought - her heart opens and she speaks to God as she once did so freely.
"Please..."
She doesn't quite know what she's pleading for. She doesn't know if she's even got the right to plead. She prays just the same, her eyes staring up at the dark ceiling.
"Please?"
Her sister and her brothers are dead and yet they live. Susan believed in such miracles once.
She believed in many things, once. Tonight she let herself begin to believe once again.
Tonight she let herself be closer to her family than she'd been in years.
They still don't know, though, about the secrets she holds close to her. The secrets that nearly ruined her life at age eighteen.
She'd moved out of their family home then, sharing a flat with two other girls. Her looks and taste soon led her into a fast, decadent world in which a girl could be paid well just for dressing up and looking pretty for fashion presentations and private showings of designer collections. She was soon swept into London society and she was treated, she thought, as the queen she'd once been.
Henry, Lord Winthrop, had been one of the first to notice her beauty and grace. He was young and dashing, and Susan was too naive to know he was also a hunter, and she his quarry. She'd always loved being pursued by handsome men. In Narnia she'd had suitor upon suitor, and she entertained each one. She wasn't false, and she never acted in an inappropriate way, aside from sweet, stolen kisses and caresses from her favorites.
She ought to have remembered Prince Rabadash. Being estranged from her family, there was no one there to protect her honor when Henry seduced her.
He promised her marriage to get her into his bed. Susan discovered to her great horror that his promises were lies. He grew tired of her soon after, discarding her to run after the next pretty young thing to come along.
When she told him she was with child - his child - he laughed. He gave her money "to take care of it". Susan threw the money to the floor and walked away, knowing she was disgraced and her new life over before it had a chance to begin.
Susan had always hated killing. Abortion, though she knew in theory that such a thing existed, had never crossed her mind.
A few days later, as she tried to figure out what she would do when she started showing - there was no way she could return home to the shame and disappoint that would surely be waiting for her - she miscarried.
As she lies in this strange bed, the tears flowing freely and silently from her eyes, she still grieves for her lost child. She grieves for all that has been lost and might still be so.
She'd told Alain, the quiet, kind man she'd met before she'd seen Lucy and the others, that she hadn't called upon the Lord Christ in years.
Now, as she allows herself to remember Narnia and Aslan - dear Aslan, his soft fur under her fingers, the peace he brought - her heart opens and she speaks to God as she once did so freely.
"Please..."
She doesn't quite know what she's pleading for. She doesn't know if she's even got the right to plead. She prays just the same, her eyes staring up at the dark ceiling.
"Please?"