Looking In

Way back in 2012, I became re-infatuated with the Chronicles of Narnia. I started wondering about the Pevensies’ mother’s experience. How would she cope with the noticeable changes in her children when they returned to England following their adventures in Narnia? Out of this, a short piece of fanfiction was born. Using the evacuation of the children from London as my starting point, I worked out the years in which each book is set, as well as the children's ages during each time period.

Each chapter takes place immediately following each book in the Pevensies’ adventures through Narnia. I posted the piece to a popular fan site, but I didn’t tell a soul about what I’d written. Even in total anonymity, the story has gathered nearly 25,000 views to date. Although my writing has since deepened and matured, please enjoy my story “Looking In." 


1940 (Mrs. Pevensie)
    When I sent them off, I sent children. I wanted them to stay safe. To stay children. I'd watched as they had grown apart. Peter took his role seriously. He was popular and charming, but sometimes smothering. He had stepped up and taken care of them all while I had managed the house. Susan helped me cook and clean.  She was bright and pretty, but obsessed with proper behavior. Edmund had changed at school. I didn't know quite what had happened, but he had become surly and difficult. Lucy was the baby, indulged by the rest, though lately Edmund seemed determined to make her cry. I suspected that it was because Lucy was Peter's favorite.
    Then Frederick left for the war and things became even harder. I pulled away as I became lost in worry. Susan and Peter stepped up, children playing at being adults. Susan cooked dinner by herself sometimes. At bedtime, they worked together to tuck the younger ones in, though both Edmund and Lucy fought it. Then Peter looked in as Susan went to bed. Finally, he put himself to bed. The routine was touching and slightly self-conscious.
    When I picked them up at the station, I thought nothing had significantly changed. They seemed older, but it had been a while and a country at war ages everyone. Edmund and Peter were close once more, but they had been in the country together with little to distract them. Only after time had passed and the joy of reuniting had faded did I notice the differences. They were now a self-contained unit who worked well together. They deferred to each other. When upset, they turned to Susan. When sad, they went to Lucy. When in dispute, they looked to Edmund. For guidance, they went to Peter. And although Peter's word was sometimes challenged, when he spoke with a certain tone, they obeyed without hesitation. In fact, even when they argued, if Peter stood firm, he was always obeyed. If they needed a parent, they did not come to me; they went to Susan or Peter. The two eldest still put the younger ones to bed, but the routine was comfortable now, rather than self-conscious. I felt unnecessary. But as time passed, they became more like children once more. Peter and Susan in particular. I was saddened that my children were fighting again, but it was reassurance that I had not lost them yet. They were still children.


1941 (Mrs. Pevensie)

    They left for school, and when they returned, they were once more adults with children's faces. I gave up trying to understand. Susan had withdrawn from the other three. Oh, by most standards she was close to her siblings, but I could see the distance. At times both Susan and Peter just looked miserable. Peter threw himself into his studies. After a year, we received word Frederick was coming home. I tried to explain our children in my letters to him, but I found that I simply couldn't capture what exactly was so different.


1942 (Mr. Pevensie)
    I came home weary and jaded, but oh so glad to see my family again. I didn't quite know what to expect. The children were 10, 12, 14, and 15. Peter, I knew, had stepped up to be the man of the household, but surely now that I was coming home, Peter would go back to being a child. Helen seemed a bit worried in her letters. To be sure, the war had changed everyone, but the children had been sent away during the Blitz.
    I arrived home a day earlier than expected, and so I was not met at the train station. All things considered, it was probably for the best. Crowds were difficult for me now. I felt trapped and vulnerable. It would be easier to meet the family again in our home. So I hailed a taxi and made my way to our house.
    I knocked on the door. There was a patter of footstep before it opened. Lucy. She looked so much older. For a moment she smiled brightly but politely. Then her eyes sharpened. “Dad?!”
    She leapt into his arms. He set her down after a moment to look at her. She called out, “Peter! Ed! Dad's home! Mum!”
    There was a beat of silence, then pounding footsteps down the stairs. I finally saw my boys. Peter made it down first. He was nearly as tall as I was. He looked like a man. Edmund was right on his heels. Edmund was now up to his brother's shoulder. After a quick, indecipherable glance at Peter, my youngest son flew at me. I held him close. I had been so worried about Edmund. Even since going off to that school, he had been horribly different. According to the letters I received, it had worsened until the children went to the country, when everything changed.
    After a long moment, I held Edmund out to look at him. There was a time when Ed would have been uncomfortable, but now he just stood quietly and waited. Eventually, I turned to my eldest. Peter stood patiently waiting with his hands on Lucy's shoulders. At my gaze, Peter stepped forward around his sister. I grabbed my son and held him tightly. Upon his release, Peter stepped back to stand with his siblings as my wife ran forward and into my arms. Now I was truly home.
    After a little while, I looked up. Keeping Helen under one arm, I studied my children. Lucy stood in front. Edmund was behind her and to the left. Peter stood beside him, directly behind Lucy. He had an arm around his brother's shoulders with his other hand on Lucy's shoulder. They made quite a pretty picture. Something was missing though. “Where's Susan?”
    Lucy and Edmund looked slightly worriedly at their older brother. When Peter spoke, his voice was clear and level, almost emotionless. His face was blank. Where had my son learned such control? Why? “Susan is out with friends. She should be home tonight.”
    That night was full of joy. I was nearly overwhelmed at times. I just watched my family. I couldn't understand quite what my wife had worried about. The children seemed fine, although old for their ages. However, that was understandable with the war. When Susan came home, Peter immediately went to greet her. After a short exclamation from Susan, the voices were muffled. Only a short while later, the two came into view. I rose, and Susan ran to me for a hug. She had always been a pretty girl, but was quickly becoming a beautiful woman. She stepped back and seemed to avoid Peter's eyes.
    All too soon, it was growing near bedtime for the younger ones. Before either Helen or I said anything, Peter spoke up, “Lu, bedtime.”
    She looked at him. For a moment, she seemed about to argue; however, something in Peter's gaze must have stopped her, for she simply stood up. She kissed Edmund and Susan before making her way to her parents – a hug and kiss to each of us. She turned to Peter who answered the unspoken question, “I'll be up in a few minutes.”
    She nodded and headed up the stairs, slightly dragging her feet. Halfway up, she stopped and turned. “Peter...”
    “Lu. Go on. Bed.”
    Her shoulders dropped as she went up the rest of the stairs. Peter smiled gently. A couple of minutes passed as they relaxed in the living room. Edmund and Peter played chess while Susan knitted nearby. Peter rose. “I'll go tuck her in. Ed, half hour to bed.”
    Edmund simply nodded. Peter left, and Susan took over his side of the chess game. Less than a minute later, Peter returned. “Lu's calling for bedtime stories. Come on!”
    He left once more, this time followed closely by his siblings. They all filed upstairs. Only a couple minutes later, I turned to my wife. “Shall we spy on them?”
    She smiled and nodded. We tiptoed up the stairs. The four children were all in the girls' room, crowded onto Lucy's bed. Peter sat leaning against the headboard with Lucy between his legs, curled up against his chest. Edmund and Susan sat opposite them. Peter had apparently just begun a story. “And this was in the fifth year of their reign. The giants of the North encroached upon the lands of their allies. And so it was that High King Peter the Magnificent and King Edmund the Just rode to battle...”
    We watched from the doorway, entranced, as our son spun a tale of battle against the giants in a land called Narnia. After he finished his story, he looked seriously at his siblings. “And the High King made an oath under Aslan that day that no matter what would come to pass, he would keep them safe, no matter how hard they tried to get into trouble.”
    The last was said with a wry smile. Edmund and Lucy both blushed and ducked their heads, while Susan laughed gently. I looked on from the doorway, lost. With a sigh, Peter disentangled himself from Lucy. “Now, it's past your bedtime, Lu. May Aslan guard your sleep.”
    He leaned over, tucked her in, and kissed her forehead. “C'mon, Su. Ed, you have fifteen minutes.”
    The three made to leave the room. Suddenly we realized we were still standing in the hallway. Before we had time to go anywhere, though, the door opened fully. Susan appeared surprised to see us. Peter, however, was completely composed. He even asked with a smile, “Enjoy the story?”
    I was caught off-guard. How had he known we were here? Luckily, my wife was a bit more composed. “It was very thrilling.”
    “Yes, not your typical bedtime story,” Peter agreed, “but that's Lu for you.”
    We all made their way back to the living room. The children settled back into their places. Susan took up her knitting, while Edmund and Peter resumed their game. Nearly ten minutes passed in silence until it was broken by Peter. “Oh, well done Ed. I didn't see that coming!”
    Edmund ducked his head at the praise and blushed brightly before replying, “Well of course not. I'm the tricky one.”
    Peter laughed. I spoke up from where I was reading the newspaper. “You won, Edmund? Well done. I used to love chess.”
    Edmund was pleased, but did not flush again. “You two should play sometime,” Susan interjected.
    “Grand idea, Susan. How about it, Ed? Fancy a game?”
    Peter glanced up. Edmund looked at him, then, “Definitely. Another night, though. I'm about to get ready for bed.”
    Peter smiled, and Edmund rose. I watched, astonished, as my youngest turned down a game of chess because his brother had declared it was his bedtime. Peter spoke up, “I'll be up in five minutes with a glass of water.”
    After Edmund left the room, Peter packed up the chess pieces and tucked them away with the board. He then went to the kitchen and drew a glass of water before heading upstairs. He returned in only a few minutes. When he came back into the living room, he approached me. “Dad, have you finished the paper?”
    I nodded, and Peter came over and fetched it from me, then made his way over to Susan. We settled in to a comfortable silence. There was quiet punctuated only by the crackle of the fire, the soft sounds of my wife's sewing and Susan's knitting, and the occasional rustle of the newspaper. I stared at the flames, just thinking, but my gaze was continually drawn to my children. I was beginning to understand Helen's comments. Still, I held out hope for things to return to as they used to be.
    Startling me out of my daze, Susan rose. She came and kissed us both, before turning to Peter. He smiled at her. “I'll come up with you. I want to read a bit in my room anyway. Shall we, my lady?”
    With a courtly bow, he offered his arm. She smiled and accepted. Together they walked upstairs, leaving us behind.


1942 (cont'd, Mr. Pevensie)
    Peter chose to go to University rather than fight. He had announced his decision to the family one night. Susan had merely smiled – the distance between her and her siblings had continued to grow. Lucy had cheered and flown into Peter's arms. Edmund had collapsed and buried his face in his hands. After a moment, I had realized Edmund was crying. Peter had reached him first. “Ed, look at me. Oh Ed. I wouldn't do that to you.”
    “I just – I know you hate having to hear about the soldiers dying and...”
    To me the words had become indecipherable, but apparently Peter had understood. “Ed, I wouldn't go into any fight without you at my back. I learned that lesson.”
    With a strangled laugh, Edmund had thrown himself at his older brother, knocking him to the floor. Lucy had piled on, while Susan had smiled at them all before giving in and joining the hugs.
    That summer, we all separated. Peter went to study for University at Professor Kirke's, Edmund and Lucy stayed with their aunt, uncle, and cousin, and Susan traveled with us to America.
    In some way, Susan had become both of our unspoken favorite. She was the only one we understood, really. She had become a little materialistic, but then again, nearly all young ladies were. Our other children no longer needed us. They hadn't for years. I had resigned myself to the fact that Peter had become their primary authority figure.
    At the end of the summer, we all re-united. Edmund and Lucy were even more composed than before, though they often had somewhat sad smiles. Susan immersed herself in her social circle. Then Peter came home. We all went to the train station to meet him, except Susan who was out with friends. Peter exited the train, and Edmund and Lucy flew at him. Peter had grown even more, now besting me by a fair amount. His shoulders had filled out. He looked like a man.
    When his siblings reached him, he smiled and swung Lucy around, uncaring of the glances he received. Indeed, many young ladies had their eyes on him, but he only had eyes for his siblings. Finally releasing Lucy, he pulled Edmund into a hug as well.
    The three made their way over to us, Lucy chattering the entire time with Edmund interjecting occasional comments. Upon reaching us, Peter hugged us both in turn. The entire way to the car, Lucy never stopped talking. Peter just smiled making occasional comments and laughing in all the right places.
    That evening when Susan arrived home, she greeted Peter with a bright smile and an airy kiss. He looked her over carefully, a small frown on his face. “Makeup?” he asked at last. “You don't need makeup, Su. It just makes you look like everyone else. You're more beautiful than that.”
    I watched in amazement as Susan seemingly deflated at Peter's words. She nodded and headed upstairs. No more was said about it, but from then on, although she wore makeup, it was much more discrete.


1949 (Mr. Pevensie)
    The war ended and everyone could breathe again. Peter had finished University but still lived close to home. Susan hadn't attended University. She had a steady beau, whom her siblings tolerated with different levels of grace. Edmund planned on pursuing a law degree, which surprised my wife and I, though not Peter and Lucy. Although Susan had drifted continuously further away, the other three remained as close as ever. As the children grew up, I expected them to grow apart, or at the very least rebel under his benevolent rule, but neither happened. Peter's word was still obeyed. Even their cousin Eustace began to follow him after Lucy and Edmund stayed with his family for a short while.
    We took a weekend in Bristol while Edmund and Lucy stayed with Peter. We were on the train home, pulling into the station, when there was a loud screech. The train lurched sideways and then there was only black.
    After a couple of moments I blinked and opened my eyes to the countryside. Dazed, I sat up and turned to Helen who was just opening her eyes. I stood and helped her to her feet. Weren't we just on a train? There was that lurch, and... “Are we dead?”
    “You are, son of Adam,” came a voice from behind us.
    We both spun around, and my mouth gaped open in astonishment, for before us stood a lion. For a long moment nothing was said. Then Helen dropped into a curtsy. “My lord -”
    “Aslan” the lion cut in.
    “Aslan,” she continued, “where are we? What happened?”
    I did not hear the answer. All I could hear was the name Aslan ringing through my head. I felt loyalty and pride and humility. When I was able to concentrate once more, I heard “...you need but move higher up and farther in,” and with that, Aslan turned and bounded away.
    I turned to my wife, “What just happened?”
    “Did you hear any of that?”
    “No, I just...” I trailed off, unable to explain.
    Luckily, she seemed to understand. “We're dead, darling. This is the Real England, as far as I understand it. We're to move higher up and farther in. And look!”
    She pointed, and I focused in that direction. My view seemed to telescope forward until I could see Peter, Edmund, and Lucy looking more real than I had ever seen them. I turned to Helen, and my vision snapped back to normal. “But how?”
    She laughed, and for the first time I realized that she was not as she had been on the train. This was my wife as she was on the day I married her. I found myself laughing as well, and the two of us began speeding forward. At last we reached a set of golden gates, and we stopped. As we looked hesitantly ahead, the gates suddenly swung open, and we walked forward hand-in-hand. At length, we regained our confidence and sped onward until we reached a clearing filled with people, animals, and creatures of fantasy all watching a grand ceremony.
    We felt drawn forward, and so we walked through the crowd until we stood at the very edge of the raised platform. A procession of royalty was presenting themselves to a seated couple and then to a man who stood beside Aslan. The next figure approached the seated couple. “King Frank, Queen Helen, I am Caspian X, son of Caspian IX.”
    “Caspian X, son of Caspian IX, we bid thee welcome,” said King Frank.
    Caspian then kneeled before the man. Aslan spoke, “Do you, Caspian X, swear to take up your crown once more? Will you rule under Us and under the High King?”
    He answered, “I so swear.”
    The man spoke for the first time, “Rise, King Caspian X of Narnia.”
    Caspian rose and looked solemnly ahead for a moment, before the man extended his arm. They clasped forearms. Caspian then moved to take his place in line. The ceremony continued as we watched, slightly confused but respectful nonetheless. Finally a young woman stepped up, smiling. My wife clutched my hand, and a moment later I understood as the woman introduced herself as Lucy the Valiant. This was our little girl? But there could be no mistake. This was Lucy as she was meant to be. She knelt before the man with an impish smile. She swore her oath. As before, the man bid her to rise, Queen of Narnia once more. However, this time, he pulled her near and kissed her forehead before sending her to his place.
    The next figure caused both of us to gasp. He stood tall and proud. Edmund. We watched with confused pride as he was announced as King Edmund the Just. The man once again pulled him in for a kiss on the forehead. Could it be Peter? He was the only one to whom Edmund would allow that gesture. We realized it at the same time. Peter was the High King? I felt that I should be more surprised, but it somehow fit. This was Peter after all. The next figure was a man. Where was Susan?
    Gradually, the line of waiting kings and queens dwindled until Frank and Helen swore their oaths. Only Peter was left standing. He knelt before Aslan. “Do you, Peter the Magnificent, swear to take up your crown once more? Will you rule under us?”
    “I so swear.”
    “Then rise, High King Peter, king of kings of Narnia.”
    He rose and simply looked at Aslan. For a moment, the entire world was still. Then Aslan butted his head against Peter's chest. The entire valley erupted into applause. A line formed to greet their kings and queens.
    We reached the front and were suddenly nervous. These were not the children we had raised. These were kings and a queen. I bowed as Helen dropped into a curtsy. Lucy laughed gently. We had so many questions, but the first that tumbled out was, “Where's Susan?”
    The siblings faces grew troubled. Peter spoke, “She forgot and lost faith. She is no longer a friend of Narnia.”
    “But is there hope for her?” my wife asked fearfully.
    Peter and Lucy glanced at Edmund who replied fiercely, “There is always hope for redemption.”
    “Now,” Lucy spoke into the hesitant silence, “I am certain you have questions. We shall endeavor to answer them.”
    We moved off the platform and wandered towards a private area of the valley. As we walked through the crowd, we watched as the Narnians parted in obvious deference. The siblings merely smiled gracefully.
    We reached our destination and settled down. Although both boy took up positions so as to be able to see any approach, the children had never looked so relaxed. I was about to ask my first question when Peter raised his hand. I immediately fell silent. “I beg thee, before any questions, allow me to tell a story. The discovery of Narnia in a cupboard.”
    Lucy and Edmund smiled and settled down even further. Peter began, “It was 1940 in England. Four children were sent to the countryside for their safety.”
    And so he told us of their first journey into Narnia, the defeat of Jadis, and their fifteen years of rule. Their accidental way out, and the long-awaited trip back to Narnia when they helped Caspian. At the conclusion of their first adventure with Caspian, Peter fell silent. Without hesitation, Edmund took up the story of his and Lucy's voyage on the Dawn Treader. Finally, he too fell silent.
    Throughout the entire narrative, we made no noise, save for the occasional gasp of surprise or worry. At the conclusion of the story, we sat in silence, trying to absorb all we had been told. Peter smiled broadly. “We shall leave you. I understand this has been a lengthy tale. If you have questions or simply wish to find us once more, ask any Narnian.”
    With that, he rose, Edmund and Lucy silently following suit, and wandered away – Lucy between the two men. For a long while, we sat quietly. Eventually, I shook myself and rose, offering a hand to my wife. “Shall we find them again?”
    She agreed, and we set off. We must have appeared lost or confused, because we were soon addressed by a voice, “May I help you in any way?”
    They looked down, and a mouse stood gazing up at them. I was speechless, but luckily Helen kept her wits about her. “We're searching for Peter – excuse me, High King Peter, King Edmund, and Queen Lucy.”
    “Follow me, my lady.”
    He turned and ran through the grass, Helen and I close behind him. We stopped in a large clearing holding a gathering of people and creatures. Our children seemed to be holding court. They sat on a platform in three thrones, while a fourth throne sat beside them – unoccupied. Susan's. We stopped to take in the scene for a moment. I suddenly felt unworthy to approach them. The blinders before my eyes had slowly been falling away, but now they crashed down. Any lingering jealousy I held that Peter was their true parent dissolved as I watched him gracefully comfort and greet his people. He was their king. Who was I to compare?
    As if she read my thoughts, Helen gripped my hand tightly. “Excuse me sir...”
    “Reepicheep,” the mouse supplied.
    “Sir Reepicheep, may we approach them?” she asked shyly.
    “Of course, my lady. All may approach the Kings and Queens. If you have no evil in your hearts, you have nothing to fear.”
    With trepidation, our small party approached the seated royalty. However, my fears soon melted into thin air, for Lucy's face broke into a sweet smile as soon as she noticed our approached. “Mother! Father! And dear Reep.”
    Reepicheep swept a respectful bow before he turned to us. “You are the parents of our Kings and Queens?”
    To my astonishment, he swept us a bow as well. “No- I mean, thank you of course, but- That is-” I did not know how to explain.
    Edmund smiled. “Reep, they are our parents, but not a king and queen. Still, I would hope them to be Friends of Narnia.”
    “Your highness,” said the mouse in return and bowed himself out.
    Peter, Edmund, and Lucy gazed at us, as we stared in amazement. After a long moment, my wife dropped into a curtsy, and I into a bow a half-second later. Peter chuckled. “Rise. We have much to discuss and many stories to tell – not all of them pleasant. We must greet Our subjects, but then We may sit and pass the time in closer company.”
    After gaping a moment at hearing my son use such courtly language, I escorted my wife to the side. I had only discovered Narnia that day, but it was already my country. And so I watched as my daughter, my Queen, greeted everyone with joy and laughter. As my son, my King, listened fairly and treated everyone equally. As my eldest, my High King, ruled his people with dignity and with compassion.