The Prodigal Queen

[This piece is a fan-fiction based on the Chronicles of Narnia series by C. S. Lewis.

I always felt like Suzan’s arc was never finished. After all, “Once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen of Narnia.” She turned her gaze to the things of the world, pursuing her own flippant desires for a time, we know that from the original series. It’s possible that, after the events of The Last Battle, she would have fallen into deeper vises. But, I don’t think Aslan would have left her there. I think he would have let her follow her tangled heart for a while, but he would have finally stepped in, saying, “Enough’s enough, my child.”

So, this piece is the beginning of that. The start of the trials Aslan would have led Suzan through to show her how much she needs him, his strength, his love. I imagine what comes after this would be painful for her. But, like the prodigal son in the Bible, she would have come back, humbled and broken. And he would welcome her with open arms and much rejoicing.]

The store’s lights glinted through the cut glass bottles, throwing rainbow pinpricks across Suzan’s jade green uniform as she fluttered the feather duster between and over the rows of cosmetics lining the shelf, pursuing the most minuscule of dust particles with a keen eye. She always found her target. 

She stepped left to the perfume, a bottle teetering beneath the feathery onslaught, and she paused to steady it. 

Amber liquid danced inside, golden and majestic. Something tingled in the dark reaches of her mind; a memory. Or a hint of a memory. A tiny golden lion glinted on the label. She squeezed the bottle tighter. 

“Stop it, Suzan,” she hissed to herself, squeezing her eyes shut, pushing the memory back into the dark. “It was just a game. Just a game.” She opened them slowly. 

The perfume sat in the glass bottle, a dull brown, the silhouette of a cat on the label. A quiet sigh and she released the bottle, easing the feather duster back into motion. 

It was three years tomorrow since the train. No wonder her mind was playing tricks on her. She needed a drink. 

“Suzan!” Mimi squealed, heels clacking on the marble tiles as she hurried over, the jade uniform a much better color on her. “Please come out tonight! Please, please, please! Dunny Rose is playing and Alice said she’d only come if I can get a group.” 

“I said,” Alice followed, pushing her black curls behind her ear, “that I’m sick of ending up on the edge of the floor alone while you’re asked to dance by half the room. Not that I want to be a third wheel to Suzan and Hum-drum John.”

“Don’t call him that.” But Suzan couldn’t help the smirk. Why he was with a girl like her still baffled her most days. For years, she fell into the arms and eyes of any fella who promised her a good time. John was different. Sweet, patient, solid. It wasn’t exciting, but it was what she needed. Especially these last few days, as tomorrow grew closer, like the distant sound of a horn growing louder, calling her back…

Her heart skipped faster. No! Not a horn! 

“And she’s gone,” Mimi huffed, arms crossing. 

“See. Suzan doesn’t count anymore. Find someone else.” Alice pasted on her working smile, quickly straightening a row of tiny boxes as a pair of customers sauntered past. 

Mimi rolled her eyes dramatically, but her dimples showed as she began scrubbing at the glass counter. “Getting lost in thoughts of your fellow, right in the middle of a conversation. You really are smitten with this one, aren’t you?” 

Suzan pushed a smile onto her face, spinning the feather duster back into motion, letting the girls believe what they wanted. 

What was with her? It had been hard in the past, the grief washing over her in waves. She missed them so much; her sister, her brothers, her parents. Last year, it felt as if she was going to choke on the pain, suffocate from the hole they left in her life. She had buried herself in the bottle. Deep.

But this year she had John. Not that he was a replacement for her family. But maybe he was the start of a new family for her—if she could keep it together—someone she could make new memories with. 

That was it. Her joy with him was triggering old memories; thoughts of happy times with Peter, Edmond, and Lucy. That’s all it was. 

“Speak of the devil,” Alice muttered, tipping her head toward the man approaching. 

Suzan’s heart skipped. 

John strode toward her, that perfect crooked smile, dark hair tumbling across his forehead, his jeans and casual button up completely out of place in the fancy department store, a breeze rustling the sprig of daisies peeking out behind his back. 

A breeze? Indoors? Cold and sharp, hinting at an unnatural winter day, one she hadn’t felt in years.

Suzan stepped toward him, the marble tile crackling like thin ice. 

“No,” she whispered, her breath hanging in a cloud before her. 

John’s smile flickered.

The wind spun into a torrent, whipping her hair and skirt, her rib cage crushing inward with guilt, shame, anger. She didn’t want to go. She wouldn’t go. Another step forward and this time the marble cracked, spider webbing outward. 

“No!” she yelled. She couldn’t see him, but only he could be doing this. She’d pushed his voice away for years, his call, his light, his comfort. She couldn’t face him now, not as who she was now, the person she’d become. “No! I don’t want to go! Don’t take me back!” 

She fought to shove tears and hair out of her face, barely glimpsing John. The wind filled her ears, growing into a roar. A Lion’s roar. 

“No!” She choked out the word, reaching toward John. “Don’t make me go! It won’t be the same without them! I don’t want to be alone! Please, I don’t—” 

The floor shattered. 

Suzan screamed as she fell. She knew what was happening. And she screamed because she knew.