Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia. Damnit.
Peter's thoughts on his love for Susan. Because some people do fit together and others don't. Outtake Back of the Wardrobe.
I remember how Susan and I used to play in the garden when we were little. How I would pick her flowers and we would pretend to get married. And how mother wondered why her flowers were gone and we'd just snicker. Mother once caught us picking them, and got mad at us. But we didn't care, because we had eachother. I oftenly think back of the times Susan and I would lie in the grass for hours and just fantasize about out wedding. Susan always wanted a big, glittery, white dress and a tiara, and then we would have a honeymoon to the stars. I smile.
Oh, life is beautiful.
We were small, only seven and eight, unaware of the fact that marrying a sibling isn't exactly of the acceptable norm.
But then I found my adoptionpapers. I was nineteen I think? No, eightteen, the war had just started. It was a rainy afternoon and I had been told to get mother a book from the study. But as I was searching, my eye fell on an open drawer. And before I could stop myself, God damn my curiosity, I was all over it. What I found came like a gunshot. I was unable to understand. Unable to place the feeling that crept into my body. I felt angry, disappointed, but also ... relieved, and that confused me even more than the word 'adopted'. It was easily cleared up when I walked into Susan. It was like the papers had blown up a wall in front of my eyes. A wall that I had been building ever since Susan got her first boyfriend at the age of eleven, and I had suddenly realized that I was jealous. I suddenly saw that I wasn't supposed to feel the things I felt for Susan. That it was wrong to look at her the way I did, and that it was wrong to feel the urge to kill the poor boy, only for existing. Not that boyfriends at eleven are such a big deal, but then being jealous about it makes it even worse, I think. I unconsciously started to build a wall between Susan and me. It started like frail screen, easily put aside by a glance or a smile or a touch. From there it became a big, solid wall, like the walls we have here at Cair Paravel, which made me blind for her. For all of her needs, feelings and not to forget her beauty. By the time I was fifteen it was fully built, I think, because I remember us being close the way we were 'supposed' to be; like brother and sister. Part of one family. But as I bumped into her that afternoon, she blew it up like she walked around with cannons. I remember my first thought, repeating over and over again.
She's an angel with a face.
"Mom told us to pack our stuff. We're leaving to the country tomorrow," she had said, but I had found myself unable to reply. I was just staring and smiling, and to be honest I think I rather freaked her out. But I couldn't help it! It was like she was surrounded by light and for a full minute I couldn't believe that this was Susan, because 'Susan' had become a synonym for 'sister' to me. After she left to her room, I decided to tell her as soon as possible about the adoption and, maybe, who knew, more than that. It turned out a lot tougher than I had expected, with finding the right moment and all that, but I managed to tell her one day later, when we were waiting for the professor to pick us up at the station. Edmund and Lucy were beating eachother up at the other side of the road, and Susan had asked me if something was wrong. Apparently I looked rather down. I said mother had told me that I was adopted. I don't know why I just told her I found out myself. Maybe it just made it a bit easier to accept. She said she was sorry, but there was a change in her eyes. A mischievous spark that I couldn't place. From that moment on it went as natural as possible between us, and at last we were as close as we used to be again. With the only difference that we weren't seven and eight, but seven- and eightteen. Oh, how delighted I was. I was so sure this was meant to be; that Susan and I belonged together. That she would fill up the hole that 'mother' made by lying to me that way. Only to discover Susan was the same.
Lucy had told us of Narnia, which at that time we didn't know existed. We had all laughed, and made fun of it. Four days or something later, she came with the same claim again, only now that Susan had been there too. I had raised an eyebrow when Susan with a perfectly straight face told me she had just been playing along with Lucy's silly games. She humiliated Lucy, made the whole situation even worse, so I was mad at her. Yes, I was mad, but I did believe her. How was I supposed to know Lucy was right, and Susan was lying? What would you have done anyway? Both of them were honest, neither of them ever lied about something important. Only Susan was grown-up and Lucy has a lot of fantasy that sometimes runs away with her. I did what I thought logical.
I've never been so wrong before. Narnia did exist. Then Susan betrayed me again by running off to the White Witch (afterwards it turned out that she for some reason thought she could save mr Tumnus on her own, but again; how was I supposed to know?). I felt naieve, and I promised myself never to fall in love with a girl again.
It was after Susan's return and after I told Edmund and Lucy of my adoption, that Fae came in. I don't think I ever met anyone more intriguing than her. She was a dryade, a treespirit, or woodnymph, however you want to call it. She was young, beautiful, skilled in battle, perfect to me. She also turned out to be the General of the nymphs army, which helped a great deal at the battle against the Witch. But that's beside the point now. We fell in love through a whirlwind of excitement and passion and need, but beside all the fun and love it hurt, because I knew, saw and felt that I hurt Susan. But Susan had hurt me too, so I guess the sadistic Peter in me convinced me she deserved it. And that I should just ignore the fact that I was hurting myself just as much. It also made me feel uneasy that Edmund didn't seem to improve it. Afterwards it turned out that Edmund 'liked' Fae even more than I did, but at that moment I didn't know that, and was all I could think of why nobody could just be happy for me. The battle against the White Witch came, and I was almost killed. It's not as bad as it sounds. It opened my eyes again. I found my life going by in front of my eyes, and what became clear to me, was that above all I was so scared I'd never see Susan again. So when the battle was over and I saw Susan in the hospitaltent... I don't know what came over me. I kissed her. In public. And ofcourse Fae had to catch us. But to my surprise she didn't look too sad. I'd never ever admit it to anyone but myself, but it made me rather... mad, one way or another, that she didn't cry hysterically and that she didn't throw herself to my feet, begging to take her back. But I'm a guy, I'm allowed to think those things, right? But she said she had known all along that there was aomething about Susan and me, and that she'd run me through with her sword if I'd ever let her go. I told her that I, in a different way though, still loved her. She seemed to have a hard time handling that remark. She's just like Edmund, I remember thinking, can't handle too much emotions. Then she left to check on Edmund, again, which had made me a little jealous. But I just smiled, for I knew where it would turn out on. Fae had 'the Spark', as Susan and I like to call it. Every girl that has hopelessly fallen for Edmund has it. Which is actually very funny, because you can always recognize the ones that come for Edmund.
At the coronation I had asked Susan to marry me and she accepted. I always thought that people who call such a day 'the happiest day of their life' were exaggerating, but it really does feel that way. At the 'afterparty' I talked to her about Fae, and I was glad to find the same old understanding and comfort I knew so well of Susan. She pointed out some stuff and I started to see the details among the great lines. Just the tiniest little things. The way Edmund's fingers trembled as his hand rested on Fae's hip, or how her eyelids fluttered everytime he looked her directly in the eyes. Those almost invisible things that made them radiate so much... almost like perfection, and fun and excitement, drawing everyone's attention to them. I can't do anything than smile when I think of the dance they shared. It was wild and fast and exciting and fun and it represented everything they both are. It also became clear to me why it would work between them while it didn't between me and Fae. Fae had been ab-so-lute-ly perfect to me. But not just the wy she was. I found her perfect in the way I thought she was. No, more like the way I wanted her to be. I discovered that I had wanted her to be Susan. And that was where it went wrong. That was, to me, Fae's big failure. She was Fae, not Susan. Nor would she ever become Susan. Fae was closed, not open like Susan. She was funny, but not Susan's way. She needed me, but not the way Susan did. And, if I'm very very very honest, the truth is that she was just too wild, too fast, too exciting and too much fun for me to handle.
Not for Edmund, oh no. Edmund can handle anything in that matter. Better; I dare to say that Edmund's the best a girl like Fae can get. He understands her. Which you can consider a gift, because Fae rarely lets anyone get close enough. Fae was perfect to Edmund. And with every weakness she became more perfect. But that's just Edmund, I think. He has a gift of turning everything imperfect into something beautiful. At the end of the conversation between Susan and me, we noticed the two of them had sneaked out. I think Edmund declafred love to Fae (in every way but through words, because at that time he was absolute shit with words), because when I saw her again she was blooming like an appletree.
Now it's five years later. I am twenty-three, happily married to my dear Queen Susan the Gentle. I smile as I look through the windown down upon the gardens. What I see makes me smile. Edmund sits in the grass, dressed for the summer, watching how a bare footed Fae dances with flowers in her hair.
"What are you thinking about?" Susan appears behind me and wraps her arms around me. I sigh lightly.
"Nothing," I then reply smiling. We watch in silence how Fae pulls Edmund to his feet and they start dancing together, laughter ringing from their throats and floating into our room together with the smell of the sea. For a moment I'm back at the coronation again.
"I love to see them like that," Susan sighs, "Dancing like they're still sixteen."
"Yes. This scenery comes from the time of Fae, mistress of Chaos and Prince Edmund the Diplomatic Nightmare," I snicker. Susan chuckled.
"Oh yeah, those good old days," she says, "Oh Peter, aren't they marvellous together?"
And ofcourse I can't do anything but agree.
"They are, m'love. They definately are,"