![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Fic - Those You've Known (2/6?)
Title: Those You’ve Known (2/6?)
Rating: T (For angst)
Pairing: Implied Susan/Caspian
Summary: Susan continues living life after the tragic events of The Last Battle, but begins seeing ghosts and memories of a former life. Spoilers for the movies and books.
Disclaimer: I am not the Mouse, whether you interpret that as Mickey or Reepicheep, so please don’t spear me. Title comes from the ‘Spring Awakening’ song of the same name.
A/N: Can be read as a sequel to The Handkerchief, but also as a stand-alone. Takes place around five years after The Last Battle.
Chapter 1: The Bitch of Living
Rating: T (For angst)
Pairing: Implied Susan/Caspian
Summary: Susan continues living life after the tragic events of The Last Battle, but begins seeing ghosts and memories of a former life. Spoilers for the movies and books.
Disclaimer: I am not the Mouse, whether you interpret that as Mickey or Reepicheep, so please don’t spear me. Title comes from the ‘Spring Awakening’ song of the same name.
A/N: Can be read as a sequel to The Handkerchief, but also as a stand-alone. Takes place around five years after The Last Battle.
Chapter 1: The Bitch of Living
Chapter 2: Left Behind
Barely an hour passed and Susan had already visited four restaurants in the vicinity and one consignment shop with a peculiar sign posted in the window that read “Young, spritely face needed to attract customers!” When she passed by the sign, a memory of a long lost sister leapt into her mind.
“Oh, Su, I’ll never be as pretty as you are!” The younger girl sits at her vanity brushing her hair. The party is supposed to start in mere moments and yet Susan barely moves, simply gazing at her own reflection. Her hair is delicately knotted and pinned up, her face painted to look respectable, her dress conservative, but with a hint of mystery behind the dark fabric.
She is the image of beauty yet she feels far from it.
“Su?”
She opened her eyes and found herself still on the London sidewalk. In the glass, Susan saw her reflection, her appearance nothing like the memory. Her hair still frizzed from the hurry morning, her makeup lost its touch in the rush, and her skirt was anything but that fancy dress.
But still, she took a deep breath and entered the shop.
And five minutes later she exited, another failed interview under her skirt waist.
“Honestly, how long after the turn of the century do you have to live to be considered young at that place?” Susan grumbled to herself as she continued on her trek. Someone had to be hiring in London…
And then she saw it. A sign in front of an alleyway asking for a caretaker at a local cemetery.
Sighing, she followed the sign’s direction and slowly began to realize that every step she took led her further out into the country. Soon, the paved streets turned into dirt roads and the grass grew taller and wilder. Houses became a more sporadic sight as the minutes wore on. The clouds grew darker and a slight breeze carried the threat of rain.
Susan began to question not taking a bus or a cab when she noticed some grey slabs sticking out of the earth not too far ahead of her. Sighing, she carried herself onward. Just a little farther in order to get a job, Susan, nothing too drastic. But before she spied the office building, she saw two newer tombstones and involuntarily stood in front of them.
“I still find it incredibly sad.” The cousin sits at the coffee table and rests his fingers on one of his pawn pieces, thinking where the best movement will be.
The youngest brother patiently waits, mostly because of his conversation with the cousin’s friend. “From what you’ve told us, it was the best possible outcome in that entire situation.” The cousin makes his move, one which surprises the brother. He really has found a good opponent.
The female friend sighs. “I suppose you’re right. His son was able to say goodbye, but…I agree. It was a terribly sad tale and adventure.”
The cousin looks over to the eldest girl, knitting in the chair. “For someone who’s been there before, you’re awfully quiet, Susan.”
She knits, never responding.
SCRUBB and POLE were the names displayed on the stones, as if capitalizing every letter would make their short lives that much more noticeable and worth being taken away. Susan suddenly felt angry, though she wasn’t sure who the target of her anger was supposed to be. So she clenched her fists and made to storm off.
“You alright, miss?” Susan turned around and saw an older man, obviously from the country and maybe a farmer, even. He limped toward her, his cane doing little to aid him.
Susan smiled as truthfully as she could make herself. “Yes, I’m fine,” she called out.
Huffing and puffing, the man made it behind the tablets. “You seem mighty young to be visitin’ graves, miss.” Susan looked down, still keeping a smile on her face for the man, though she only wanted to get away, run away, be as far from this place of death as she could.
Looking back up at the man, she said, “Well, not everyone is as they seem.”
The man laughed. “You can say that again!” He took off his cap and shook it, for what reason Susan was unsure of, and replaced it on his balding head. “Oh, you can say that again.” Sobering up, he nodded to the graves around them. “I often wonder what these people did while alive, and what caused ‘em to meet their maker. I’m sure most of them weren’t what they seemed.” He pointed to a particularly old grave marker. “Like this gentleman, a Mister...” he squinted his eyes, “Rich. If he truly were rich, why would his tombstone be such a simple design and with no little designs etched into the face? Heh.”
Susan couldn’t quite figure out why, but this man reminded her of someone.
“But enough about them, miss, what about you? What brings a lovely lass like you out to these outskirts on a less than spectacular day?” He seemed genuinely interested, so Susan decided to be honest with him.
“I saw an ad looking for a cemetery caretaker around here and thought I’d poke my head around a bit, see if I was interested.”
“Well, here’s the place!” He spread his arms wide, gesturing to the entire cemetery, then made to shake her hand. “Name’s Frank Peterson and I can answer all your questions, miss.”
Susan shook his hand with a smile. Peterson. That was it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Peterson.”
“Pleasure’s all mine, miss…?”
“Oh!” Susan silently scolded herself for being so forgetful. “My apologies. Susan Pevensie.”
The man continued to smile. “Well, Miss Suzie, if you’d like to look around, you’re more than welcome.”
As kind as this man was, Susan didn’t feel comfortable being around the two specific graves. “I’m sorry, Mr. Peterson, but it seems this is just a little bit farther than what I’d be comfortable traveling to every day. I don’t have a car, you see.”
“Ah, I see. Then don’t worry about it, miss, I’m sure someone will come along.” Susan smiled at Mr. Peterson and made, once again, to walk back to London proper. Suddenly, the roar of a car’s engines made its way along the dirt road, stopping alongside Susan, who waved the dust out of her face.
The window rolled down and Susan saw Mrs. Peterson behind the wheel. “Well, hello again, Susan! What are you doing out this far from the city?”
“Job hunting. Which I think I shall resume back in London.”
The elder woman stuck her head out of the window and looked to the office building in the cemetery. “Have you met Frank yet?”
Susan chuckled. “Yes, and I must say he reminded me of you very much. You never told me you were married.”
That caused Mrs. Peterson to laugh loudly. “Oh, sweetheart, my husband passed away years ago. Frank is my brother-in-law, as well as an audience for my philosophical babblings.”
Susan blushed in embarrassment. And right at that moment, the clouds decided to open up and shed the rain they had held for a good while. Susan sighed angrily. “Really? Could it get any worse today?”
“Don’t say that, dear,” Mrs. Peterson warned. “With your supposed bad luck today, I wouldn’t put it past the ruling deity to make everyone’s day worse. Now, I’d get in the car if I were you.”
“Oh, Lydia, I couldn’t ask that of you.” The rain began to fall harder.
“Susan, you’re not asking, I’m telling you. Get in.” And the older woman rolled up her window. Susan did as she was told.
Inside the car, both women were quiet, but comfortably so. They sat there, half-consciously listening to the rain droplets pattering against the roof and hood of the car. Susan’s head fell back against the headrest of the passenger seat and she found herself slipping into a comfortable rest. Which would not be proper at all. “You don’t have to do this for me, Lydia.”
“No, but I want to. You’re a fresh perspective on the human race, Susan, and being around you brightens my day.” Mrs. Peterson scowled at the rain. “Metaphorically, anyway.”
“I don’t exactly feel fresh,” Susan sighed. “I guess I just feel like I’m stuck in a rut. Nothing really changes for me anymore. Nothing exciting happens.”
“Excitement isn’t always something you want to wish for.” Mrs. Peterson put her hands on the wheel again. “Alright, do you want to go back to the city and continue your search or what?”
Susan buckled her seatbelt. “I think I should go home. I’m tired.”
The older woman smiled gently and, turning the car around, drove back to the city. The occupants of the car didn’t speak, mostly because Susan could only think of one name.
“Susan, you’re being ridiculous!” The eldest brother paces around her room. “Do you realize how much she’s been crying at night? Because of you?”
She sits stock-still at her desk, not looking him in the eye, not looking at him at all.
“I’ve had to hold her until she falls asleep four times this week. Four times!” He continues to pace, his anger slowly diminishing, turning into weariness.
“She misses you, Su,” he says, much quieter. “We all miss you.”
She blinks and feels the tiniest droplet of moisture balance on an eyelash.
“Well, here we are, dear.” Mrs. Peterson’s voice woke her from her memory. She looked around and found the car parked in front of the flat complex.
“Thank you, Lydia,” Susan mumbled as she got out of the car. “Maybe we can have that cuppa tomorrow? My schedule isn’t exactly filled up.”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” The woman smiled warmly at Susan. “I still feel young in my bones, so there’s no rush to appease me.”
Susan smiled back. “Thanks again. For everything.” She waved goodbye as the car drove away. Strangely, now that Susan was in the rain again, she didn’t want to immediately return home. Instead, she strolled along the sidewalk and tried to dodge the rain as much as possible, but didn’t mind a few droplets hitting her.
But everything changed as she set foot in a crosswalk.
Everything changed when she heard a woman exclaim a name.
Everything changed when she saw an embrace.
“Caspian!”
“Susana!”
The couple hugged and kissed, and Susan stood in the middle of the street, watching the scene with wide eyes.
He even had a Mediterranean accent.
Susan didn’t hear the car horns honk in alarm and warning, she only stood, frozen by the images before her.
His dark eyes are drenched with tears he will not shed in front of his people. But she sees a miniscule bead fall from his eye, unsure of where it lands.
And then he hugs her, holding her to him with everything he has. He whispers into her soft, exposed neck, “Please.”
But she knows it cannot be. She knows she must leave forever.
He will not cry in front of his people, but he will gaze longingly, with no shame.
And then-
And then-
Barely an hour passed and Susan had already visited four restaurants in the vicinity and one consignment shop with a peculiar sign posted in the window that read “Young, spritely face needed to attract customers!” When she passed by the sign, a memory of a long lost sister leapt into her mind.
“Oh, Su, I’ll never be as pretty as you are!” The younger girl sits at her vanity brushing her hair. The party is supposed to start in mere moments and yet Susan barely moves, simply gazing at her own reflection. Her hair is delicately knotted and pinned up, her face painted to look respectable, her dress conservative, but with a hint of mystery behind the dark fabric.
She is the image of beauty yet she feels far from it.
“Su?”
She opened her eyes and found herself still on the London sidewalk. In the glass, Susan saw her reflection, her appearance nothing like the memory. Her hair still frizzed from the hurry morning, her makeup lost its touch in the rush, and her skirt was anything but that fancy dress.
But still, she took a deep breath and entered the shop.
And five minutes later she exited, another failed interview under her skirt waist.
“Honestly, how long after the turn of the century do you have to live to be considered young at that place?” Susan grumbled to herself as she continued on her trek. Someone had to be hiring in London…
And then she saw it. A sign in front of an alleyway asking for a caretaker at a local cemetery.
Sighing, she followed the sign’s direction and slowly began to realize that every step she took led her further out into the country. Soon, the paved streets turned into dirt roads and the grass grew taller and wilder. Houses became a more sporadic sight as the minutes wore on. The clouds grew darker and a slight breeze carried the threat of rain.
Susan began to question not taking a bus or a cab when she noticed some grey slabs sticking out of the earth not too far ahead of her. Sighing, she carried herself onward. Just a little farther in order to get a job, Susan, nothing too drastic. But before she spied the office building, she saw two newer tombstones and involuntarily stood in front of them.
“I still find it incredibly sad.” The cousin sits at the coffee table and rests his fingers on one of his pawn pieces, thinking where the best movement will be.
The youngest brother patiently waits, mostly because of his conversation with the cousin’s friend. “From what you’ve told us, it was the best possible outcome in that entire situation.” The cousin makes his move, one which surprises the brother. He really has found a good opponent.
The female friend sighs. “I suppose you’re right. His son was able to say goodbye, but…I agree. It was a terribly sad tale and adventure.”
The cousin looks over to the eldest girl, knitting in the chair. “For someone who’s been there before, you’re awfully quiet, Susan.”
She knits, never responding.
SCRUBB and POLE were the names displayed on the stones, as if capitalizing every letter would make their short lives that much more noticeable and worth being taken away. Susan suddenly felt angry, though she wasn’t sure who the target of her anger was supposed to be. So she clenched her fists and made to storm off.
“You alright, miss?” Susan turned around and saw an older man, obviously from the country and maybe a farmer, even. He limped toward her, his cane doing little to aid him.
Susan smiled as truthfully as she could make herself. “Yes, I’m fine,” she called out.
Huffing and puffing, the man made it behind the tablets. “You seem mighty young to be visitin’ graves, miss.” Susan looked down, still keeping a smile on her face for the man, though she only wanted to get away, run away, be as far from this place of death as she could.
Looking back up at the man, she said, “Well, not everyone is as they seem.”
The man laughed. “You can say that again!” He took off his cap and shook it, for what reason Susan was unsure of, and replaced it on his balding head. “Oh, you can say that again.” Sobering up, he nodded to the graves around them. “I often wonder what these people did while alive, and what caused ‘em to meet their maker. I’m sure most of them weren’t what they seemed.” He pointed to a particularly old grave marker. “Like this gentleman, a Mister...” he squinted his eyes, “Rich. If he truly were rich, why would his tombstone be such a simple design and with no little designs etched into the face? Heh.”
Susan couldn’t quite figure out why, but this man reminded her of someone.
“But enough about them, miss, what about you? What brings a lovely lass like you out to these outskirts on a less than spectacular day?” He seemed genuinely interested, so Susan decided to be honest with him.
“I saw an ad looking for a cemetery caretaker around here and thought I’d poke my head around a bit, see if I was interested.”
“Well, here’s the place!” He spread his arms wide, gesturing to the entire cemetery, then made to shake her hand. “Name’s Frank Peterson and I can answer all your questions, miss.”
Susan shook his hand with a smile. Peterson. That was it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Peterson.”
“Pleasure’s all mine, miss…?”
“Oh!” Susan silently scolded herself for being so forgetful. “My apologies. Susan Pevensie.”
The man continued to smile. “Well, Miss Suzie, if you’d like to look around, you’re more than welcome.”
As kind as this man was, Susan didn’t feel comfortable being around the two specific graves. “I’m sorry, Mr. Peterson, but it seems this is just a little bit farther than what I’d be comfortable traveling to every day. I don’t have a car, you see.”
“Ah, I see. Then don’t worry about it, miss, I’m sure someone will come along.” Susan smiled at Mr. Peterson and made, once again, to walk back to London proper. Suddenly, the roar of a car’s engines made its way along the dirt road, stopping alongside Susan, who waved the dust out of her face.
The window rolled down and Susan saw Mrs. Peterson behind the wheel. “Well, hello again, Susan! What are you doing out this far from the city?”
“Job hunting. Which I think I shall resume back in London.”
The elder woman stuck her head out of the window and looked to the office building in the cemetery. “Have you met Frank yet?”
Susan chuckled. “Yes, and I must say he reminded me of you very much. You never told me you were married.”
That caused Mrs. Peterson to laugh loudly. “Oh, sweetheart, my husband passed away years ago. Frank is my brother-in-law, as well as an audience for my philosophical babblings.”
Susan blushed in embarrassment. And right at that moment, the clouds decided to open up and shed the rain they had held for a good while. Susan sighed angrily. “Really? Could it get any worse today?”
“Don’t say that, dear,” Mrs. Peterson warned. “With your supposed bad luck today, I wouldn’t put it past the ruling deity to make everyone’s day worse. Now, I’d get in the car if I were you.”
“Oh, Lydia, I couldn’t ask that of you.” The rain began to fall harder.
“Susan, you’re not asking, I’m telling you. Get in.” And the older woman rolled up her window. Susan did as she was told.
Inside the car, both women were quiet, but comfortably so. They sat there, half-consciously listening to the rain droplets pattering against the roof and hood of the car. Susan’s head fell back against the headrest of the passenger seat and she found herself slipping into a comfortable rest. Which would not be proper at all. “You don’t have to do this for me, Lydia.”
“No, but I want to. You’re a fresh perspective on the human race, Susan, and being around you brightens my day.” Mrs. Peterson scowled at the rain. “Metaphorically, anyway.”
“I don’t exactly feel fresh,” Susan sighed. “I guess I just feel like I’m stuck in a rut. Nothing really changes for me anymore. Nothing exciting happens.”
“Excitement isn’t always something you want to wish for.” Mrs. Peterson put her hands on the wheel again. “Alright, do you want to go back to the city and continue your search or what?”
Susan buckled her seatbelt. “I think I should go home. I’m tired.”
The older woman smiled gently and, turning the car around, drove back to the city. The occupants of the car didn’t speak, mostly because Susan could only think of one name.
“Susan, you’re being ridiculous!” The eldest brother paces around her room. “Do you realize how much she’s been crying at night? Because of you?”
She sits stock-still at her desk, not looking him in the eye, not looking at him at all.
“I’ve had to hold her until she falls asleep four times this week. Four times!” He continues to pace, his anger slowly diminishing, turning into weariness.
“She misses you, Su,” he says, much quieter. “We all miss you.”
She blinks and feels the tiniest droplet of moisture balance on an eyelash.
“Well, here we are, dear.” Mrs. Peterson’s voice woke her from her memory. She looked around and found the car parked in front of the flat complex.
“Thank you, Lydia,” Susan mumbled as she got out of the car. “Maybe we can have that cuppa tomorrow? My schedule isn’t exactly filled up.”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” The woman smiled warmly at Susan. “I still feel young in my bones, so there’s no rush to appease me.”
Susan smiled back. “Thanks again. For everything.” She waved goodbye as the car drove away. Strangely, now that Susan was in the rain again, she didn’t want to immediately return home. Instead, she strolled along the sidewalk and tried to dodge the rain as much as possible, but didn’t mind a few droplets hitting her.
But everything changed as she set foot in a crosswalk.
Everything changed when she heard a woman exclaim a name.
Everything changed when she saw an embrace.
“Caspian!”
“Susana!”
The couple hugged and kissed, and Susan stood in the middle of the street, watching the scene with wide eyes.
He even had a Mediterranean accent.
Susan didn’t hear the car horns honk in alarm and warning, she only stood, frozen by the images before her.
His dark eyes are drenched with tears he will not shed in front of his people. But she sees a miniscule bead fall from his eye, unsure of where it lands.
And then he hugs her, holding her to him with everything he has. He whispers into her soft, exposed neck, “Please.”
But she knows it cannot be. She knows she must leave forever.
He will not cry in front of his people, but he will gaze longingly, with no shame.
And then-
And then-