Susan Pevensie Snippets

In celebration of a rather exciting milestone in its writing, I wanted to share some snippets of my Susan Pevensie story.  If snippets aren't your thing, don't give it a second thought, but if they are . . . read on, Lizzie. ;)

(Pictures from my Pinterest inspiration board.)

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          Susan dropped her head again, recalled to the present.

         Surely they deserve better, Aslan. Why can I not be as faithful as my siblings?

          “Child.”

          Susan looked up, and her spirit caught. He was there. Large and gentle and golden and radiant, standing a few yards away with eyes only for her. And those eyes. Oh, those eyes.

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          Round and round the carousel of her thoughts whirled ⎼ a foggy mixture of anxiety, confusion, grief, and fatigue ⎼ until exhaustion prevailed.

          Yet even in slumber she was not free of her childhood, though in sleep this was a blessing and not a curse. Dreams wove a dance throughout her unguarded mind: memories of crystalline streams and vibrant forests; of an earthy wardrobe with wood that seemed almost to hum with otherworldly secrets; of music that seemed to sound like silver itself; of her three siblings; of happiness; of a time when fear seemed very far away; and, pulsing and leaping and making Himself known through it all, of a great and glorious Lion.

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          “It is my opinion, then, that if there is one thing the last two decades have taught us, it is that our traditional religious beliefs are gradually being exposed as philosophically and rationally unreliable.”

          The speaker’s voice, resonant with intellectual inquiry yet tempered with sincere sympathy, billowed out across the auditorium on the old microphone’s crackly, rheumatic projection.

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          Susan chuckled softly and cradled the phone against her cheek. “I should let you go. I’ll talk to you soon, alright?”

          “And . . . ?”

          She rolled her eyes, but smiled a little. “And I’ll let you know if I ever need anything.”

         “Honour bright?”

         “Honour bright.”

          “All right. I love you.”

          “I know. I love you, too.”

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          May.

          It ought to have been a month of beauty and peace, and instead it only meant the ever-present ache in Susan’s heart throbbed a little more intensely. And one day out of the year ⎼ the only time she could bear to do it ⎼ she dressed in a soft gray suit, steeled herself, and drove two hours out of the city, back through her hometown, to a small chapel graveyard clouded in apple blossoms and ringed by a low stonework wall.

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          Somehow, Susan felt deep inside herself that if she disregarded this opportunity, something important inside her might close up forever. Perhaps, just perhaps, something lay amongst the wreckage of her past--something that she needed to find and dust off and hold and look at squarely and honestly. Something with which she needed to come to grips; something, perhaps, that could give her a measure of soul-deep peace.
          Peace. What a concept that was.

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I've said it before and I'll say it again: fan art.  Y'all are amazing. 

✾ ✾ ✾ ✾ ✾

Hope you all enjoyed those snippets! I also found a new song that I think of in connection with this story: Ben Platt's "In Case You Don't Live Forever." So I've left it below in case you'd care to give it a listen. :-P