Chapter Text
Lucy Pevensie was just that, Lucy. Then she was Queen. Queen Lucy the Valiant. Then, again, she was Lucy, just Lucy.
But there was a voice, Aslan, always Aslan. Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a king or queen of Narnia.
They tried to re-enter Narnia, but the door would not open. Why would it? No matter if they had saved it from a false Queen. Or ruled the land in peace for nearly two decades. They had not belonged, not truly. No matter if they had seen it as their home. They had chosen it to be their home. They were aberrations. Born at the wrong time, perhaps even born in the wrong dimension.
They existed in England for nearly half a decade. When they couldn’t bare the overwhelming wave of grief.
Lucy closed her eyes, her siblings stiff in their beds beside her. When she felt a familiar buzz enveloping her. She smiled contentedly.
—
Helga Hufflepuff ran through a forest. She noticed three figures approaching a clearing up ahead. They were running at the same pace as her, Helga couldn’t help but to note. She slowed to a light jog, reaching the clearings edge the same time as the others. Her heart raced . This was it.
Helga clutched at her hip. The familiar weight of her dagger, soothing. She noted the others, hands wrapped carefully around weapons of their own. The two men, boys really, clutched onto the hilt of swords. The other lady, for the blue silk gown she wore marked her with wealth, she held tighter to her bow.
As if in silent agreement with the three strangers, Helga continued forward. They had converged at a stone table. One that Helga had swore had not been there a moment before.
She paused. Glancing at the tallest of them. A blond with a strangely familiar stubble. Slowly, he drew his sword. Holding its tip carelessly, but elegantly towards the table's center. The other boy followed suit, touching his tip to the other. The other lady held her bow out next. And Helga, followed last.
As her knife met Sword and Bow, and sword again. she felt walls come down. She was Lucy Pevensie. Or was it Helga of Huffings Pass?
—
Susan was 10. she would soon get her letter, and go to Hogwarts.
Susan Bones was 11, then she was 16. 50? 108? She was 108, and now she was 11? Why was she imagining a wardrobe? And what in blazes was “spar’oom?”
Susan was 11. Then a week later, a letter in hand, she was Lucy Pevensie. Queen of Narnia. She was Helga Hufflepuff, founder of a school she would soon be attending. She needed to find her siblings.
Walking down the grand staircase of their ancestral home, Susan met a familiar pair of eyes. Her family also. Her determination flattened as she remembered an important detail. Her aunt Amelia. Her guardian and only family for the past 7 years.
She straighter once more at her aunt's suddenly worried expression. Right, Aunt Amelia. She might be able to help.
“Aunt Amelia”. She held her letter in front of her.
“You got your letter,” “I was starting to get worried”. That last bit, she knew she wasn’t meant to hear, so she kept her expression the same bright smile.
“Yeah! I was actually hoping to speak to you about something…”
“Sure thing”
“Somewhere private? With secrecy wards?”
They entered Amelia’s office.
“What do you know of the Kings and Queens of old?”
Amelia scrunched her nose in thought, “That old bedtime tale?”
“Well yes, but it started many centuries later and earlier in 1940-“
Susan spoke of a time long past, of a life not as or yet remarkable. She told the tale of Lucy in her childhood home. She spoke of the Wardrobe and spar’oom. Of Mr. Tumnus, the faun, of the Beavers, and of Aslan and Narnia. And of course, the Kings and Queens of Old. Of her and her Siblings.
Letting the news sink in, Susan took a sip of her tea. Still warm, but she sent a pulse of her magic for assurance. Much better.
She spoke of being an adult in a child’s form. Of learning to live in an oddly strange land, of a place and time no-longer home. She spoke of adjusting. But falling ill nearly a decade later.
Susan spoke of being Lucy. Then she spoke of being Helga. Reuniting with her siblings, and remembering her past. Future? She spoke of dreams. Of a home. She spoke of magic and a School. She described Hogwarts and how it was made. Of teaching, and growing old.
Susan wove the tale from start to finish. Her affection for her siblings. Her love for her husband. No longer a queen, she ruled Hogwarts with a gentle smile. The same gentle smile she wore when her family was whole, if not a bit strained. She spoke of peacefully falling asleep, then waking with a familiar seal in hand.