A/N: I've been plagued with the need to write a Narnia fic for a while now, although that last thing I would have expected was for it to be Peter/Susan. Yet, at the begging and pleading of a friend, here it is. Accidentally angsty. Sorry about that.
Still you're suffering, my love
O, who's to blame?
You might be tired, but I'm not through fighting the flame
In Two (The Lament)
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Did she do all of it on purpose?
Peter watched the flow of the tide from his balcony, one of the many in the castle of Cair Paravel. The moon and the sounds and smells of the ocean calmed him, but all the same he was restless.
Did she have any idea what affect she had on him?
Peter recalled the previous day's outing to a waterfall. It was secluded, the waterfall was in no way magnificent, but the small size was what made the area so comforting. There were no paths; the brothers and sisters had alternated wading through the stream and walking on mud to get to their destination.
Edmund and Lucy took to swimming almost immediately, tossing their useless outer garments and jumping into the freezing cold water where the shallow stream turned into a pool of water. In a few seconds they had gotten used to it and began their fun and exploration at the base of the waterfall.
Susan did what she usually did, took in the scenery. Sitting down at the side of the pool, she simply admired what lay before her: the trees, the shade from the sun and heat, the waterfall spray. Behind her Peter stood not too far away, his eyes on Susan.
He was waiting patiently, knowing from Susan's expressions that she was almost done taking in what was before her. It was here that she would talk to him, before she focused her motherly attention on the two younger siblings.
A moment passed and she turned to him, smiling and motioning with her hand. Peter matched the smile and obeyed as he sat down next to her at the edge. If he hadn't been so squarely focused on his sister, he might have noticed Edmund and Lucy on his right playing with mud. Before he understood the mischievous look on Susan's face, his right cheek was covered.
"Susan!" He exclaimed, laughing.
She smiled, and then moved closer, making his heart race.
"Hold still, silly, I want to see what the dear High King would look like with a beard." She began to cover his chin with the reddish brown substance, and then the other cheek.
Peter laughed, but it was empty. All his thoughts were on how she was touching his face; he could feel the warmth of her fingers through the cold mud. Her face was so close as she playfully did a thorough job. Peter wasn't sure how he managed to keep his breathing steady.
He began to paint her face in response, touching what he had always wanted to touch. At that moment the mud was his worst enemy, the thing that was separating himself and his sister. This was torture.
In what was an eternity Susan jumped up and then pulled her brother alongside. She pointed to the water where Peter's reflection left them both gasping for air.
"I think now you are finally worthy of your title, brother!"
Peter laughed. Yes, the mud surely made him look magnificent. In the midst of the play Peter began to consider what he would look like with a beard. Susan recognized Peter's silence and snuck up behind him.
"Don't get too attached!" She shouted, before pushing him right into his reflection.
Peter came up for air, clean-shaven. Before Susan could get another comment out, the High King had pulled her into the water with him. He had expected some sort of cry or complaint that she was still wearing all her outer clothing, but Susan resurfaced with a smile on her face.
The recollection did nothing for Peter's spirits. The previous day was like so many before it, every day he would just bask in her. She was so perfect.
And then every night the High King would return to his rooms, alone.
It was killing him inside, how he felt about her. Susan was his sister, yet he was feeling more than the protective or kind emotions that came with being her older brother. He loved her.
But did Susan know? Were her gentle touches and kind words because she was his sister, Queen Susan the Gentle, or was there something more? The idea that she could possibly feel the same way was too much for Peter, too unreasonable. And yet with every passing day his hopes increased, with every touch came a dream of her the following night.
The tide went out, returning with memories of Susan. Peter turned in pain; he couldn't bear this any longer. He left the balcony, went through his chambers, into the hallway, and walked from the North wing to the chambers of the Queen of the South.
He stood at her door, wanting more than anything to wake her up so that he could confess everything. He wanted to watch her as she slept. She slept perfectly, like with everything else.
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Susan couldn't sleep. She rarely could anymore, as he was always there in her dreams. The Queen would wake up with more pain in her heart than if she had dreamt the worst of nightmares. In the dreams he would tell her he loved her, more than just a brother should. He would hold her, caress her, and protect her.
Susan knew she shouldn't be having these feelings.
Does he know what he does to her?
Just being around Peter made Susan feel better. He made her feel perfect, if that makes any sense. She felt older and younger at the same time, all because there he would be, standing four feet behind her.
And why did he do that? Was he just being protective, as mum had asked of him? Did he watch her with those eyes because she was his younger sister, or was there something more?
The thought did what Susan knew it would; there was no way she could fall asleep now. Frustrated the gentle Queen got up out of her bed. Maybe she'd go to Lucy's room, Lucy always made her feel better, although Susan never told her sister what was bothering her.
The thought of her younger sister made her smile. Lucy used to run to Susan's room with her problems. Lucy would climb into her bed and cry, or simply want to talk. Now, a few years later, Lucy was still only a girl but Susan would go to her. With Peter on her mind and the terrible emptiness in her heart.
She threw on her robe and headed towards the door into the grand hallway that connected the four siblings' rooms. Susan turned back for a moment. For whatever reason, she felt intuitively that something was waiting for her on the other side of the door. Shaking the thought out her mind, she opened it to find…
"Peter!"
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Peter recoiled slightly in shock. How was he going to get himself out of this one?
"Su..susan, uh, I was just…I was just…"
Susan, always so gentle, put a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay Peter, I have restless nights as well." She motioned to her robe, which implied she wasn't doing much sleeping either. "Do you want to talk?"
Peter swallowed. His sister assumed he was just having bad dreams or something, and now she was offering her company. Once again her gentleness and caring nature amazed him.
Peter nodded; going along with the excuse Susan had created for him. He followed her to the little kitchen that existed in all of their individual chambers. Its purpose wasn't for anything spectacular but mostly for what Susan was doing now, preparing tea.
The High King watched her do the small task, admiring everything about her. Her dark hair and blue eyes always made his heart race. He turned away before she could catch him staring.
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Susan knew he was staring at her. She blushed slightly, glad that he had turned away so that he wouldn't notice. Why did his looks have this affect on her?
Finished, Susan placed all the materials on a small table between two chairs, which she and Peter soon occupied. "Now," she said while pouring the tea, "what's wrong Peter?"
Her brother graciously accepted the drink, and didn't reply.
Susan looked up to see him staring at her intently, looking as if he was going to cry. Her breath caught under the sheer intensity of his stare.
A few seconds passed in what felt like an hour, and then Peter turned away.
"Su…" he whispered, barely audible, "I can't sleep anymore."
Susan nodded, knowing what that felt like. "Is it your dreams?" she asked, thinking more of her own fight against the dream world than Peter's.
He nodded, and Susan could see tears forming in his eyes. Susan hated seeing her brother like this. He wouldn't explain what was wrong, and Susan knew that is because he didn't want to burden her. She took her brother's hand, "Is there anything I can do?"
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Her hand was warm and soft, taunting Peter with what he couldn't have.
It could have been that it was so late, it could have been the sounds of the tide that made it's way into the chambers, and it might have been all the thinking he had been doing in the past hour.
But it was probably the proximity of his sister to his face that made him finally crack. Her eyes were filled with loving and he was so desperate for her.
So he kissed her.
Knowing that she was going to push him away at any time, Peter poured his soul into her with the intensity of his feelings but with the gentleness of his nature. It was, in fact, a magnificent kiss.
Gasping for air, he realized that she didn't push him away. Peter kept his eyes closed, terrified of what her response would be. She didn't kiss him back, and his heart was torn in two.
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Susan was breathless, for good reason. Peter looked as frightened as when he killed the wolf to save her life. His eyes refused to open, and so Susan did what she had wanted to for the longest time.
He flinched as she put her hand on his face, opening his eyes in time to meet her kiss.