Discover Top Posts Tagged with #suspian fic

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, Chronicles of Narnia (Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Caspian/Susan Pevensie, Susan Pevensie/Original Male Character(s), Caspian/Ramandu’s Daughter | Liliandil Characters: Caspian (Narnia), Susan Pevensie, Edmund Pevensie, Lucy Pevensie, Peter Pevensie, Rilian (Narnia), Eustace Scrubb, Jill Pole Additional Tags: watch me join my childhood fandom ten years afterwards, this is just to heal my broken heart after The Last Battle, this book left me in tears, Also blame the movies for making suspian more interesting than caspian x his unamed wife, but this is still canon compliant ish, since it happens after the events of The Last Battle, Canonical Character Death, also english is not my native language i just am THAT salty about this book’s ending, The Problem of Susan, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, but mainly fluff, they are disgunstingly in love, soulmate material and all that jazz, Lucy ships it, edmund is a scheming little shit but we love him, peter is constantly two seconds away from vomiting, or gouging his eyes out, or taking caspian out, your pick, Aslan is an asshole but he’s got a divine™ pass, Susan has a daughter, Healing, Grief/Mourning, but like in a good way, let Susan have some peace, and closure, and just overall HAPINESS, since the train thing was incredibly VIOLENT you know, I am severly sleep deprived, it’s very self-indulgent, sorry for the occasional errors, I am not a native English speaker, and also wrote that in the span of an evening Series: Part 1 of Susan’s happy ending Summary:

And what if all that Susan ever dreamed of in this bleak Londonian life was just a wish away ?

In the winter of 1953, leaning over her newborn daughter’s crib, Susan Mason, formerly Pevensie, tries to hold back her tears. She thinks of happier times, when there was laugh in the air and a crown on her head, and with all that she is, all the soul that 1949 has left her with, she wishes that she could give even a fraction of that bliss to the tiny babe sleeping right here. Maybe it’s the nostalgia, or the date, or the fact that she hears the door of their tiny apartment open, but for the first time in twelve years she says it. She says it with hope, hope for a better life. She says it like it can actually resolve everything, a mantra.

A prayer.

“Aslan”