~o~
Edmund's Epistle
A letter from his majesty, Edmund the Just, to his royal sister, Susan the Gentle;
Dearest sister Susan,
I write to you because I do not know what adventure is in store for us as we go to dig up Professor Kirke's old rings. Peter told you about the vision of the strange person, did he not? He also told you of our plans, I'm sure. Please, Susan, will you meet up with us at the train station? We miss you so much and we miss our times with you. We will try not to mention Narnia too much for it angers you.
Oh, Susan! How could you have forgotten? Don't you remember our coronation? I said to remember that day forever. I'm sure that you really do remember; it's in the back of your mind. It was the time we stood with our shaking hands and trembling smiles. The crowd was cheering as the crowns were placed on our heads and they called us the Kings and Queens. That night, you danced like you knew that our lives would never be the same. Peter held his head like a hero off a page of an Arthurian legend. It was the end of the Witch's rule but only the beginning of our age; the Golden Age.
Can't you picture it, Susan? Remember the walls we crashed through to get there and all the kingdom lights shining for our coronation. We were ready to take on the world. One day, we knew we would be remembered for it.
Susan, Lucy says to remember the feeling of all the years that we sat in those thrones. We are the Kings and the Queens. I traded my cap for a crown when Aslan gave us our kingdom. And we ruled it well. Our enemies were outraged and said it was absurd because we were only children. They thought that our kingdom would fall apart in weeks. But for a moment, four children from a small town ruled the world.
Long live the memories we made! Bring on all the foes; we're not afraid. Long live the mountains we moved. I had the time of my life ruling beside you. When they placed the crown on your head, I wanted the look on your face to be remembered forever. Susan, we four shall be remembered forever.
But Susan, will you take a moment to promise me this: that you'll stand by us forever? And if tragedy would step in and force us into a goodbye, remember your siblings and Narnia and the Lion. If you have children someday, when they point to the pictures please tell them our names. Tell them the story of redemption and how the crowds went wild. Tell them how I hope they will shine like we did.
Long live Aslan, dear sister mine! Hold on to the memories and remember those kingdom lights shining for you and me. Feel the fresh wind on your face as the ocean breeze blows through the throne room. Spin around under the great dome as the confetti falls to the ground. And I hope that the look on your face will still be there. Long live Queen Susan the Gentle! Long live Narnia! But most importantly, long live Aslan!
Should I never set eyes on you again, farewell, my dearest sister. Farewell, Susan the Gentle! Farewell.
Your brother, King Edmund the Just
~o~
My dearest, dear, sweet Edmund,
Oh, why couldn't I have received your letter sooner! I would have come, I swear! Why did you have to be so cruelly snatched away from me like that? Why you, Edmund? Why all of you? Couldn't just one of you stayed behind for me? I know that I deserve this. I'm sorry for ignoring you. I'm sorry for shouting – no – screaming at Lucy. I'm sorry that I slapped Peter in my anger. But why couldn't you just grow up? It was only a game and yet you had to die for it.
Maybe you are all right. Maybe it isn't just a game. But that's crazy. I'm sure the Professor started the story to comfort us in our time away from home. And then Peter began to enlarge it and called us kings and queens. Why do you believe his stories, Edmund? Why do you insist that it is the truth? Was it worth dying for?
Oh, Edmund, would you have stayed for me? I know that you can't, but I wish I could hear your footsteps outside my door. I'd throw open that fragile piece of wood and fling my arms around you, and I promise that I would never let go again.
Why can't you come back to me? I'm haunted by your anguished face. I can see your pleading eyes. Why do you torment me, brother? Can't you pester Eustace? But alas, he is gone as well.
Oh, this hideous evil that has befallen you! Why has it taken you and where has it borne you to? All these questions burn in my mind and I can't free myself from them. I want comfort but I can find none. I want to be a little girl again and run to Dad with my troubles. I want to tell him about this nightmare because I am sure that he can make the images flee.
Or perhaps, if I am older, I will be seeking out Peter. He would understand. Oh, Edmund, I'm so sorry for all the biting remarks I made to him. I'm sorry for the stinging comments and bitter quarrels. I am so, so sorry, but regret will never bring him back. I'll never hear your laughter echo down the hall as you two return home from a rugger. I'll never hear Lucy singing to herself as she sketches. I'll never smell Mum's snicker-doodle cookies baking or hears Dad's pen scratching away.
Can't you understand my anguish? Can't you see the tears pouring down my cheeks as I try to write this? But you're gone. You're cold. Dead. I feel so alone without you. I can't stand the silence. Alone. They say that you're in a better place. I don't know whether to believe them or scorn their sympathy. But how long must I wait until I can join you, wherever you are? I close my eyes and I can see your face. If home is where my heart is, then I certainly don't belong in Finchley.
Oh, Edmund, I miss you all so much. I never had the chance to tell you how much I appreciate that you stood by me until the end. You didn't give up on me. Thank you. Thank you, my dearest brother, and now, farewell. Farewell, King Edmund the Just, whether you are real or imaginary. Farewell.
Your sister, Susan Pevensie
~o~o~o~
Lucy's Letter
Susan, my sister,
I miss you so much! When will you return to us? I have filled up the sketchbook you gave me for Christmas. You would love the pictures! I made one of you at your birthday ball in Narnia. Do you remember it? Can you picture the fancy dresses and the bright lights? I can still hear Peter's laughter ringing out across the room. Edmund is leaning against the refreshment table. You are dancing with dear Corin. I can hear you giggling as Corin discovers that he is too short to spin you around. It made me smile. As for me, sister, I was content to watch the three of you enjoy yourselves. You worked so hard to run our kingdom. It was good to see you laugh.
Oh, Susan! Please laugh like that again. I only hear your distant and careless merriment now. I know it's not real. Why are you so good at hiding your emotions and wearing a mask that none can see through, save Aslan? Edmund is like you, you know. He can hide his emotions away. But Peter knows how to drag it out. I wish he could show me how to understand you. You and I are nearly as alike as sun and moon. But we used to be more than just sisters. We were friends. I miss it, Susan. Won't you please write back? I just want to be your sister again. Is that so much to ask?
Where are you, Susan? Where do you go on your night long escapades? Sometimes I think I hear Edmund waiting up for you to come home. Don't you know how much this troubles him? Can't you see how much we care about you?
Peter has chosen to no longer speak of you. You have hurt him, Susan, and it pains me to see him in such grief. He blames himself for your disbelief in Narnia. But Susan, how can you pretend it was just a story? Don't you remember how bitter Edmund was before Aslan redeemed him? Don't you remember how Peter changed into a man?
And you changed too, Susan. You became gracious and gentle. You easily forgave us and were always there when we needed support. You may have felt like you were never important, but you kept us all going. You helped us to continue on when things fell apart. What a strange twist of fate that you became the first to depart from Narnia. You slipped back into your old ways of scolding and being independent. You tried to do everything for yourself just because you knew you couldn't do it alone. And you failed. Look where it has brought you! I haven't seen your face in over a week. But I wish I could look into your dark eyes and whisper thoughts of light and hope.
Oh, Susan, my sister! I miss you with such ferocity that I scare myself. There is an empty place in my heart that only you can fill. The ache will not leave until you have returned. I don't care if you yell at me. I don't care if you forbid me from speaking of Narnia when you are present. Just please come home. We will wait for you with open arms.
With love as always, Lucy
~o~
My sweetest Lucy,
I found your letter only yesterday. How could I have not seen it? You sent it nigh two months ago yet I never even opened in the envelope. I was so wrong, Lucy. You didn't believe that you understood me, but I think you did realize more than you thought. You said that you would be waiting for me with open arms. But now those arms are mangled by metal. Oh, Lucy, the scrapes across your face condemned me for all the scrapes across your heart that I had made. I'm sorry for all our quarrels. We should have been true sisters.
I found your sketchbook. It was the only item that wasn't completely scorched. But the irony of it was that where my face should have been in your portrait of Corin and I was burned out. I was gone. It almost looks like it was burned out on purpose. I know I shouldn't think like that but sometimes I can't help it. I ruined our family. It was my doubt that tore us apart.
Lucy, I don't know whether to believe in Narnia or continue to scorn the stories. After all, it killed you, but what else do I have to live for? It can't hurt for me to explore both sides. But I can't truly believe in all the stories you made up about Narnia. It's just too unbelievable. Everyone will think that I am crazy. Unless… No, that's ridiculous.
Aunt Alberta is afraid that this is affecting me too greatly. I keep finding these letters. First it was Edmund's letter that arrived two days too late. Then it was your letter stuffed in the back of my purse. Tucked inside what remained of Peter's coat pocket was another letter addressed to me as well as a curious little bag with four rings inside. What does it all mean? Is there more adventure in store for me?
Last time I spoke to Peter, he told me of your peculiar vision and the quest to retrieve the rings. I thought it was only an activity the Professor had invented to keep you entertained. I see that the rings actually do exist. I am trying my best to recall what the Professor said about the rings, but it has all become so blurred. I have put the rings in my dresser drawer and I refuse to take them out again.
Oh, Lucy, is Peter alright? We really didn't speak civilly to each other. He blatantly told me of what you planned to do. We disagreed, but it wasn't the first time. You said that he wasn't speaking of me, which is true. We broke off all communications. We wouldn't speak to each other unless situation required it.
So that's why I'm afraid to open Peter's letter, Lucy. Why would he write to me if we aren't even on speaking terms? What does it say? Is it bad news or is it a letter regarding his disappointment in me? I wish he didn't blame himself for everything that goes wrong. But I was not wrong. I had simply chosen a different path than what he would have liked me to take. He ever was too protective of me. It was time for me to explore for myself.
And Lucy, I liked the world that I found. It seemed so appealing. I chose to ignore the warning signs I saw until it was too late for me to leave. I'm sorry, Lucy. I should have listened to you and Peter and Ed. You only wanted what was best for me. But I just thought that I would be able to handle myself. And I did. I'm torn between repentance and scorn. I no longer have control of my mind it seems.
Everything seems to be pointing to your game of Narnia, but all that I believe pulls against it. To which side to I give in to? For now I have retired myself from society and church. I want nothing to do with parties or religion. I just need time to think for myself.
I don't know where you are, Lucy, but are you still waiting for me with open arms? Are those brutal scars gone? Is your heart healed? I hope so.
Your lonely sister, Susan
~o~o~o~
Peter's Plea
Susan,
I'm sorry that I haven't written in a while but things have been busy. You haven't written either so I suppose you must not miss me too terribly. Edmund says he asked you to meet us at the train station. Are you really going to come? Do you know how much that would brighten Ed's spirits?
Lucy and Edmund miss you so much. And I, well, I miss you too. Why do we have to quarrel? I just want to protect Lucy and Edmund. I see how much you're hurting them. They love you, Susan. Can't you try to put things right and be gentle again? I'm sorry that I said gentle. I know you don't like me to remind you of – of our 'game', but the fact is that it is so hard to not mention it
Please, Susan, can't we be friends again? You used to love me. Why do you scorn me now? Why do you act like you can't stand the sight of me? It's almost like you hate me. I try hard not to believe it, but you seem to despise me so much.
Susan the Gentle, you are no more. It's like I never knew you. I do not know where my sister has gone, but she has been replaced with a shadow wearing nylons and caring only for lipstick and beaus. Whatever dark tower you may be locked away in, I will to my duty to free you. I suppose you will think these thoughts are only childish musings of a schoolboy caught between realities. See it your way. I have to go. I'll write more when I am no longer preoccupied.
Peter
~o~
Dearest Peter,
You mocked me when you called Narnia a 'game'. I know your tone. Don't you think that I can't read between the lines and sense your bitterness? Oh, all the pain I caused! Peter, how could you ever believe that I didn't miss you? I hurt you, Peter, and I'm sorry for it. You don't know what I would give to take back all those angry words. But it's all over now. Can you ever forgive me?
It seems so foreign to think of you...dead, and yet I can't help but write to you in hopes that perhaps you will answer, or you will at least know my thoughts. I never wanted to intentionally hurt you. I just wanted to protect myself. The memories hurt too much. I suppose I was a perfectly selfish beast. I never thought what it must have been like for you.
You were always so brave, Peter, and I hope you know that. I was there at the train crash when they dragged you out of the wreckage. For a moment, for a heartbeat, I thought you weren't dead. But I was wrong.
I know you did your best to protect Edmund from the train. You two were so twisted together that no one knew where you ended and Edmund began. And Lucy, dearest sweet Lucy! You would have been proud of cousin Eustace. He threw himself down on top of Lucy and Jill and took the impact himself. I have asked why this happened so many times but no one has the answer.
Oh, Peter, I'm so alone now. I thought I was alone before, but I didn't realize how much I still had in you. Now I am truly alone. Where are you? Save a place for me, wherever you are, because I will be there as soon as I can.
Peter, I'm trying to remember Narnia. I'm trying to hang on to all those memories. I can barely remember sending you and Edmund off to war dozens of times. I was so afraid that you would never return to me. And the last time you left, I didn't even bother to bid you farewell. Now you are gone. They tell me to be thankful for the time I had you here. I wish I could have just one more glimpse of your smiling face.
But I will never see you smile again. There will be no teasing, no laughter, no joy. I feel so numb inside. How could I have ignored you so much? Why did I distance myself from you? And now, no regrets will ever bring you galloping back. Oh, I'm sure you would fly across the galaxy to comfort me if you could. But reality is you can't. And each day that I wake up reminds me anew of all that I have lost. My heart is slowly dying within me, my dearest brother.
Your sister always, Susan
~o~o~o~
I have no idea what inspired me to write such sad letters, but I did. I'll have to post one of my silly stories to make up for the sadness.
