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they used to shout my name, now they whisper it.

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You’re right Tirian. There are two sisters. Lucy and Susan. Susan is not done. She is alive and breathing. She is living. She is a young woman who is still growing.

Can the same be said for you Peter? How about you, Lucy and Edmund? How old are you now? How old will you be tomorrow? Or the day after? How old will you be when she is two years, ten years, fifty years older? Here’s the bitter truth: you won’t change. You’re dead. You don’t age. You don’t grow or live or breathe. Your time is done like it will be tomorrow and the day after. How it will be when she is two years, ten years, fifty years older. She grows, but you? You’re dead.

Lucy, you’re a child gone before you should be. Edmund a young boy only a bit older. Peter you’re a young man who had a whole future ahead. How will you be tomorrow? You’ll be the same. A child gone, a young boy only a bit older, a young man with a whole future ahead behind. You won’t change. You’re done.

Eustace do you remember when she smiled? Do you remember when she laughed? Narnia was not everything she was. It’s not everything you should have been either. You were a child who only knew Narnia. You did not grow or live. You’re dead too. Do you ever think about what you could have done? You’re potential is all that’s left now. The potential that died with you.

Jill, oh Jill. Yes, Susan was to keen on being grown up but…did you grow? Did you age and wither as life went on? Did you dream and become? Do you breathe and live? No. You’re dead. A young girl on the cusp of becoming a woman, gone. Do you regret it? Do you cry? Do you wonder where your parents are? Oh Jill, are you sad?

Professor, professor! Digory, do you remember her? Do you remember the child that came to your house? Do you remember the one who cried when she returned from out of a wardrobe? Do you remember the Queen who would gaze back with old eyes? Do you remember the Queen the woman the girl who looked at the world and decided ‘Yes, this will do.’ upon her final return?

Polly dear. You’re a woman with a life fully lived. You’ve grown and changed and breathed. Is it fair? There are two young girls who listen as you speak, three young boys who follow. Is it fair? Tell me my dear, is it fair? They are dead. They will not grow. They will not age or live or change the world…but you did. Is that fair?

When do we talk about it, Peter? When do we talk about the Queen left behind?

When will you say her name? Do you fear it? When do we talk about the woman alive and breaking and mending and aging? Are you jealous? When do we talk about how you all left her on her own? Are you angry at yourself? Angry at the others? Angry at the Lion?

When will you speak of her? When will the Narnians hear her stories?

When will they hear about how she and Lucy sat by the dead Lion’s side throughout the whole night? When will they hear about how she saved Edmund with an arrow notched and loosened before you even arrived? Will you tell them about how she cried when you all thought you’d lost him? When will they hear about her crowning? Will you ever tell them how she laughed and danced with everyone who asked? Will you tell them about how she always was the last to sleep and first to wake? When will you speak about how she’d fight blood-covered and clothes shredded to keep peace? When will they hear about the hands she’d stain each time without question in their names? When will they hear about the days where her fingers refused to unbend from her bow with how long she held it loosening arrows left and right? Will you tell them about Rabadash and how she was almost taken from all of you and them? Will you tell them how she cried each night for the soldiers lost in her name? When will they hear about the Gentle Queen who did not want to follow when you chased the stag? When will you tell them that she did not want to leave, but that she had become a mother to your younger siblings in the absence of your mother, had the urge to protect and thus followed?

When will they hear about the young girl who’d speak to you in a quiet and understanding voice when you all returned through the wardrobe? When will you speak about the girl who’d stay awake through each night until she could not stay awake anymore only to fall asleep on the couch before the fireplace, realizing all of you wouldn’t be returning? When will you speak about how you did return and she laughed the brightest laugh you’d heard in so long? How she looked at Lucy and Lucy looked at her before they bolted unashamedly to the clear blue water that lay before you? How she dressed in her old gown and slung her bow over a shoulder and donned her armour without question because Narnia needed her again?

Will you tell them how Aslan told you you wouldn’t return and she nodded her head and moved on? How she listened to the Lion’s words to the latter?

Will you tell them how she will change your world for the better? Even in the absence of you and Lucy and Edmund and Mum and Dad?

When will you say her name?