Don't own it, not mine blah blah blah lol. Pairing is PETER/SUSAN...this means incest, so if you don't like it, don't read. Simple as really :)

So please, read, enjoy...and review :)...if I get enough positive feedback, I'll post the next chapter on christmas day...if not, well what's one more incomplete story? lol

xoxox

Becca

Chapter one: The Return.

Her hand draped softly across her lower stomach as she flipped onto her back beside the dying fire, Lucy's shocked question ringing loudly in her ears in the otherwise silent clearing.

"But you're happy to be here aren't you?" a question with only one answer in Lucy's mind. The answer Susan couldn't bring herself to give. Glancing quickly over at Peter and sighing softly, she returned her focus to her now ill-fitting wedding ring and felt the weight of it as it slid slowly over her flat stomach. She sighed again, fighting a sob and pressed her palm gently into the taut muscles hidden beneath the corset of her gown.

"While it lasts." she whispered brokenly to her incredulous sister, as she rolled fully over onto her other side and clamped her eyes closed- forcing the tears building beneath them to remain glued beneath the lids. Nothing in Narnia lasted forever; she knew that better than most.

Peter had slipped his hand into hers earlier that day, as they were leaving the gorge where Lucy claimed to have seen Aslan. It was the first time he had voluntarily touched her in months, and it stung that he should have done so now. Where had he been all those months in London when she needed him the most, where was he when she was screaming, and crying at her mother to have mercy. Where was he when she needed his comfort, the safety of his arms around her and the warmth of his embrace? Why only now did he choose to offer her his touch. She knew it was partly her fault, she had pushed him away after... pushed them all away from her and surrounded herself only in memories and past dreams, and nightmares. But still, he should have fought for her, should have fought her nails and her screaming protests, fought her shrieking profanities and her wailing sobs. Why only now did he offer his comfort again- now when they were back in the place it had all started. Where it had all ended and where her heart had shattered?

She woke in the morning with her fingers clutching the bodice of her gown, a nightmare still lingering in her mind and tears leaving darkened streaks along her cheekbones as they dripped silently into the grass below her. Peter was dousing the remains of the fire and she could tell from his own sober, glassy-eyed glance that he knew what she had been dreaming of. She could only pray Lucy and Edmund hadn't heard her sleeping cries. Having Peter give her such a tired, pitying look was bad enough; she couldn't stand it from them as well.

They finished packing up camp silently, letting Edmund and Lucy sleep as they did so; Trumpkin was nowhere to be found but they weren't worried, he would show up when they were ready to leave. Susan refused to look at Peter as they separated the supplies out, moving the heavier items into their own packs and leaving their younger siblings with the lighter ones. They both reached towards the slowly shrinking pile, fingers brushing and tangling as they attempted to grasp the same lamp. Their eyes met and Susan gasped painfully as she tried to wrench her hand away, but just as her hand slipped free, Peter tugged it back; forcefully pulling her towards him and refusing to break eye-contact even as she tried to wriggle away. A single sob tore from her throat at the feeling of his hands once more touching her after so long without him. It was unbearable. His movements gentled at the sound of her pain and his face softened as he continued to stare at her. Unable to hide her tears anymore, Susan let them pour freely down her cheeks- her sobs echoed through the small forest clearing, leaving only ringing silence behind as they slowly faded.

Unable to fight anymore and with no strength left to pull away, Susan let herself collapse into Peter's arms. With her face buried deep in his neck and his achingly familiar scent surrounding her, Susan finally gave into the pain and let loose the raging agony that had been burning inside of her for the past five months. With one hand gripping his tunic like a lifeline and the other clutching her deceitfully flat stomach, Susan let her husband hold her like she hadn't in almost a year- letting the tears and the rage, and the pain and betrayal all flow from her soul- until finally, all that was left was a feeling of emptiness and a vague sense of comforted numbness.

Slowly pulling away from the safety of Peter's embrace- despite his protests, Susan prayed that her brother and sister were at least feigning sleep; she didn't think she could handle their questions and sympathy just then. Tiredly, she brushed the lingering tears from her cheeks and gave Peter a non-committal stare as she stood up and tried to ignore the tears dripping slowly from his eyes as well. Instead, she focussed on smoothing out her gown carefully. It was with precise, even movements that she finished preparing her bag and gathered her bow. Slinging the quiver carefully onto her back she walked calmly over to her younger siblings and gently shook them awake. If they had heard her breakdown only moments before, they didn't show it, didn't comment on it. Only sat up silently and gathered their things together- not seeming to notice, nor question the lightness of their packs as they gathered them from the rough ground at the fireside.

Just as they finished packing up camp, the DLF made an appearance- accompanied by a tiny talking rat and a wildly majestic looking centaur.