do you ever think susan walking aslan to his death felt familiar to her? to the time she held her father’s hand, squeezing it, trying to give him strength at the train station? because she’d seen how sorrowful his eyes were? how scared? even as he stood as tall as a tree and looked so handsome. but she’s already guessed this was goodbye? do you ever think she grew to resent queens for the wars they started? the wars men fought in their names? do you ever think she resented herself when she had to bid her brothers farewell as they rode on in some campaign to defend their kingdom leaving her to keep narnia strong in their absence—should anything happen to them? when her brothers had to defend her honour when princes from other kingdoms tried to claim her for their own? do you ever think she resented aslan for being just like her father? for leaving her behind—to the world of the living—where difficult decisions had to be made? do you ever think she hated being the one that survived queen?
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